BUHDDA (age 11) lives in Idyllwild, CA with his mother Kaarin Elizabeth, his service dog Mouse and his two older siblings Wolfgang and Elizabeth who are also on the spectrum.

Buhdda is non verbal and uses two word sign language and an Ipad to communicate. He attends a program through Barista Creek Elementary in Hemet, CA.

They call me Superwoman even when I choke on chips
By Kaarin Elizabeth, 2015

Today was hard.
There is this nerve,
That starts under my shoulder,
And, goes to the top of my neck.
It is on fire!
A pain I can not ignore,
It’s there,
Because today,  
My son,
Needed to be held tightly,
At my discomfort,
For three hours.
He was scared,
Because, he knew, if I let go,
He would not be able to stop himself.
His brain, that is also on fire,
Will drive him,
To throw books, to hit things, to hurt people.
It is a disability,
No one can see,
But me,
Not even the doctors and their precious machines.
But I see it, I know it, I live with it, I have made it my own.

I am the one, who held this precious baby,
And counted the minutes, as he turned blue, and
Convulsed uncontrollably, sometimes violently.

I am the one,  
Who begged,
Who pleaded,
And sat through sleepless nights,
In cold hospital rooms.

I am the one,
Who watched his hair thin out,
When they glued electrodes,
To his newborn head,
Just so they could send us home, telling me,
It was my imagination.

Because I am the one,
Who finally proved to them,
They needed to help him,
Before the seizures,
Left him for dead.

I am the one,
Who watched them roll in a crash cart,
Before they gave my fragile baby,
His first medicine
I am the one, Who rocked him for hours,
When the medicine made him sick, and,
Still didn’t quiet the lightning storm in his head.
And I am the one,
Who jumped for joy when he eat sand,
Because it meant he was finally exploring.
And, I am the one,
Who cleaned his poo from the walls,
Making sure I complimented him on such unique and imaginative art.
And I am the one,
Who sees his struggle,
When he can’t stop,  
Trying to hurt everyone,
Trying to tell them, with no accessible words, that he hurts too. 
And I am the one,
Who finally found the word Autism.
And although these educated people who continued to ignore me were all around,
I brought that word to everyone, so they could understand, they might be able to help him,
That I refuse to give up on him.
And, Because I am the one, Who knows he is in pain, that his brain is on fire,
And that he can’t tell anyone, because that is what nonverbal means.
I am the one,  
Whom, no matter how angry, how sick, how tired,
Will always dream the possibility,
That one day the fire will stop, and he will say
“I love you too mom”