All I Can Handle: I'm No Mother Teresa: A Life Raising Three by Kim Stagliano

By Kim Stagliano

How one girl increases 3 daughters with autism, loses one at Disney international, remains married, has intercourse, bakes gluten-free, is going broke, and retains her feel of humor.

"Dr. Spock? money. Penelope Ann Leach (remember her?)? fee. what to anticipate while You’re anticipating? money. I had a seven-hundred greenback Bellini crib for God’s sake! i used to be excellent. And so was once Mia whilst she was once born . . ."

...and so starts Kim Stagliano’s electrifying and hilarious memoir of her family’s trip elevating 3 daughters with autism. In those tales, Stagliano has joined the ranks of David Sedaris and Augusten Burroughs together with her striking skill to put every thing at the table—from kin, acquaintances, and enemies to basement floods to birthdays to (possible) heroin addictions—eviscerating and celebrating the absurd. From her love of Howard Stern to her expanding activism within the autism group and exhaustive look for remedies that would support her daughters, she covers all of it. regularly outspoken, frequently touching, and infrequently heartbreaking, Kim Stagliano is a strong new voice in comedic writing—her “Kimoir” (as she calls it) can be a must-read in the autism group and the literary global at huge. 24 colour images

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Extra resources for All I Can Handle: I'm No Mother Teresa: A Life Raising Three Daughters with Autism

Sample text

If only life were that simple. When all of your children have autism, that’s life altering, as if the laws of the universe simply don’t apply to you. My girlhood dreams were of the garden-variety sort: I’d go to college, graduate, marry, have three children (boy, girl, girl), and live a charmed life. My dashing husband and I would have plenty of money (that was a given) and we’d take our kids skiing at Killington in Vermont in the winter and swimming in Falmouth on Cape Cod in the summer. They’d grow up to have straight white teeth and brag-worthy careers.

Back when we had money, he could walk into Nordstrom and, an hour later, emerge with several matching outfits, enough skin care products to care for half of Hollywood, and the newest men’s fragrance. Me? If you handed me a thousand dollars and turned me loose in a mall, I’d buy a gallon of coffee and a candy bar and then wander around the bookstore, assuming the mall hadn’t replaced the bookstore with another nail salon. 45 change and hope never to return. Mark has a hair stylist he sees every four to six weeks like clockwork.

I had natural childbirth. I had a Peg Perego Roma stroller. I nursed. I bought organic baby food. I vaccinated Mia without question. I read all the baby books and followed them to the letter: Dr. T. Berry Brazelton? Check. Dr. Spock? Check. Penelope Ann Leach (remember her)? Check. What to Expect When You’re Expecting? Check. I drove my poor mother insane instructing her on the “right” way to take care of an infant. ” I had a $700 Bellini crib, for God’s sake! I was perfect. And so was Mia when she was born.

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