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There’s a kind of burnout that’s hard to put into words — the kind that creeps in slowly, between therapy appointments and IEP meetings, between advocating and explaining and loving with your whole heart. It’s not dramatic or loud. It’s the quiet exhaustion that settles into your bones when you’ve been carrying too much for too long. It’s when you sit down at the end of the day and realize you’ve been running on empty for weeks — maybe months — but you’ve kept going anyway. A

Ah, summer. The season of late bedtimes, popsicles for breakfast (oops), and days that blur together in a haze of sunscreen, splash pads,...

The first day of school always feels like a Big Deal. Some parents are posting perfectly staged photos of their kids in crisp outfits...

I am a solo parent to a wild, hilarious, strong-willed 9-year-old son who happens to have autism. I have thought for several years about...