Autism

  • We’re Going to London! (And You’re Getting an Exclusive First Look)

    • by

    Can I let you in on a secret?

    Luis and I have been working on something that started as a dream, became a conversation over dinner one night, and somehow turned into a book. Actually, our most exciting book yet.

    Adrián, Guillermo and us are going to London. 🇬🇧

    And before you ask: yes, this is based on a real trip. Because if you know us by now, you know that every single thing we write comes from our actual lived experience.

    I’m so excited to share this sneak peek with you today, including a first look at one of our hand-drawn illustrations, because this book feels different. It feels like an adventure.

    How This Book Was Born

    When Luis and I started talking about travel. We talked about how desperately we wanted to take Adrián and Guillermo somewhere big, somewhere meaningful, somewhere with trains of course, somewhere that pushed all of us outside our comfort zones.

    But here’s the thing about travel with autistic kids: it’s not just packing a suitcase and booking flights. It’s research and preparation and social stories and sensory kits and backup plans for your backup plans. It’s having conversations weeks in advance about what airports feel like, what hotel rooms smell like, what happens if the food is different, what to do when everything is overwhelming and you’re thousands of miles from home.

    It’s a whole thing.

    And we couldn’t find a single children’s book that honestly, authentically, helpfully addressed what travel looks like for autistic families. So once again, we decided to write it ourselves.

    What This Book Is About

    Join Adrián and the Family on a Trip to London follows our family on a real adventure, from the anticipation and preparation at home all the way through the streets of London.

    But this isn’t a tourist book. It’s not a “here are all the famous landmarks” book. It’s an autism family travel book.

    It’s about:

    ✨ The preparation that makes travel possible – How we prepare Adrián and Guillermo weeks before departure. The visual schedules, the social stories, the conversations about what to expect.

    ✨ The airport experience – Let’s be honest: airports are sensory overload central. Crowds, noise, bright lights, security lines, delayed announcements, waiting. We show how Adrián navigates it and what helps.

    ✨ The unexpected moments – Because no matter how much you prepare, things happen. Flights get delayed. Plans change. Sensory overwhelm hits at the worst times. This book shows the real, messy middle of those moments, and how we get through them together.

    ✨ The joy of discovery – Because travel IS magical, even when it’s hard. Adrián’s passion for history and trains? London was made for him. Seeing his face at the Tower of London, at Buckingham Palace, the Postal Museum, at the London Transport Museum – that’s in this book too.

    ✨ Practical strategies woven through the story – Just like our other books, this isn’t just a story. It’s a tool. Parents will find strategies and tips throughout that they can actually use on their own family adventures.

    Why London?

    Okay, so why London specifically? Several reasons.

    First: Adrián is obsessed with history – Roman history, medieval history, Tudor history. London is basically a living museum of everything he loves. It felt like the perfect destination for a boy who can tell you exactly which Tower of London prisoner was beheaded in which year.

    Second: Adrián is a map whiz, and before even visiting the places in person, he had explored all the streets of London through Google Maps and knew the Underground by heart.

    Third: We actually WENT to London as a family. So everything in this book – every detail, every challenge, every beautiful moment – is real.

    And honestly? There were tears. There were hard moments. There were times I questioned whether we should have stayed home. But there were also moments of pure, absolute joy that I will carry in my heart forever.

    Like the moment Adrián stood in front of the London eye and went completely still – not overwhelmed, but awestruck. That moment is in the book.

    The Part That Makes This Book Different: Our Illustrations

    Before I show you the sneak peek image, I want to talk about something that matters deeply to us.

    Every single illustration in our books is hand-drawn by our illustrator, Edgar. Not AI. Not stock images. Not digitally generated. Hand. Drawn.

    In a world where AI-generated images are everywhere, and where it can be genuinely hard to tell the difference, we want to be completely transparent: our illustrations are created the old-fashioned way, with real artistic skill, real time, and real human creativity.

    Why does this matter? Because the illustrations in our books aren’t just pretty pictures. They’re emotional storytelling. They capture the nuanced expressions of an overwhelmed child, the specific body language of a child who’s masking, the sensory details of a crowded airport, the wonder on a child’s face seeing something breathtaking for the first time.

    You can’t replicate that authenticity with AI. You can generate technically accurate images, but you can’t generate the love and understanding that goes into every line our illustrator draws. And when autistic children see themselves in these illustrations, when they recognize their own expressions, their own postures, their own experiences, that recognition comes from art created by a human who deeply understands what we’re trying to convey.

    Every page is drawn with intention. Every expression is considered. Every detail is meaningful. And we wouldn’t have it any other way.

    Isn’t it beautiful? This is the kind of art that tells a story before you even read a word.

    What to Expect From This Book (Different From Our Others)

    This book expands our series in a new direction, and we’re so excited about it.

    Our previous books focused on:

    • Meltdowns and emotional regulation (Autism: Calming the Chaos)
    • Self-esteem and confidence (Autism: Confidence Starts Here)
    • School transitions (Autism: A New School Year)
    • Masking and emotional overload (Autism: My Invisible Backpack)
    • Social events (Autism: This is How I Party)

    This book focuses on: Travel, adventure, and experiencing the world as an autistic family.

    Because autistic kids deserve adventures too. They deserve to see themselves in travel stories. They deserve books that say: “Yes, travel is hard for you AND it’s absolutely possible AND it’s worth it.”

    And their families deserve practical support for making it happen.

    The Strategies We’ll Cover (A Sneak Peek)

    Without giving everything away, here are some of the strategies and themes woven through the story:

    📋 Pre-trip preparation – How far in advance to start talking about travel, how to use social stories for airports and hotels, what to include in a travel sensory kit

    ✈️ Airport strategies – From check-in to boarding, how to make airports more manageable for sensory-sensitive kids

    🏨 Hotel survival – New environments, new smells, new sounds, new beds. How we help our kids adjust to unfamiliar spaces

    🗺️ Planning with flexibility – How to structure days so there’s predictability AND room for the unexpected

    🎧 Non-negotiable tools – The sensory items we NEVER travel without (headphones, comfort items, familiar snacks)

    💙 When things go wrong – Because they will. And that’s okay. This book shows HOW you get through the hard moments and come out the other side

    🌟 Finding the joy – The magical moments that make it all worth it

    When Is It Coming?

    We’re still in the creation process, and I want to be honest with you about that. Writing a book is a labor of love that takes time. We want to get it RIGHT. We want the illustrations to be beautiful and authentic. We want the strategies to actually help. We want Adrián’s voice to shine through every page.

    What I can tell you: We’re working hard on it right now. The illustrations are in progress (as you can see from today’s sneak peek). And when it’s ready, you’ll be the first to know.

    If you want to be notified the moment it launches, make sure you’re subscribed to our newsletter. We’ll be sharing more behind-the-scenes peeks, exclusive previews, and all the details before anyone else.

    While You Wait: Our Current Series

    If you haven’t explored our existing books yet, these are the perfect companions while you wait for the London adventure:

    📚 Autism: This is How I Party – The perfect introduction to navigating social events with autistic kids. Great prep for any outing, including travel.

    📚 Autism: Calming the Chaos – Essential for understanding and supporting meltdowns, which let’s be honest, can happen during travel.

    📚 Autism: A New School Year – The transition and preparation strategies in this book apply beautifully to travel preparation too.

    📚 Autism: My Invisible Backpack – Understanding masking and emotional overload is crucial for travel. Highly recommend reading this before any big trip.

    And don’t forget our FREE travel guide: Traveling with Autistic Kids: A Practical Guide, already available for download right now.

    A Note to This Community

    When Luis and I started Loving Pieces Books, we had no idea it would become what it is. We just knew our boys deserved to see themselves in stories. And then we realized: YOUR kids deserve that too.

    With every book we write, we try to go somewhere new – a new challenge, a new experience, a new aspect of autistic life that isn’t represented enough.

    Travel is that space. Autistic families travel. Autistic kids want adventures. The world is worth seeing, and our children deserve books that tell them so.

    We can’t wait to share this journey with you. The London book is coming. And we think it’s going to be something really special.

    Stay tuned.

    With excitement and love,
    Dalisse & Luis (and Adrián & Guillermo, our co-adventurers)
    Loving Pieces Books

    📧 Stay Connected:

    Are you planning any trips with your autistic child? What’s your biggest travel challenge? Share below – your questions might end up informing this book! We want it to be as helpful as possible for families like yours.

  • A New Chapter of Celebration: Announcing Our Second Edition & a Free Gift!

    • by

    I have to tell you about a happy moment in our lives. It usually starts with a brightly colored invitation, held a little nervously by Adrián. “There’s a party,” he’ll say, his voice a mix of excitement and that familiar flutter of anxiety.

    I know that flutter so well. The questions swirling in his brilliant mind: What will it be like? Who will be there? How loud will it get? What if I need a break?

    For years, we navigated these questions together, building our own family “party plan” out of trial, error, and deep love. We poured everything we learned into our first book, Party Time for Adrián. It was our heart, printed on pages.

    And then, something beautiful happened. You read it. You used it. You wrote to us. You shared your own stories, your victories, your struggles, and your brilliant ideas for making it even better.

    That feedback was a gift. It showed us where our story could grow, where another illustration could ease a worry, where a clearer strategy could build more confidence. You showed us that this wasn’t just our story anymore; it was becoming a tool for a whole community.

    That’s why today, my heart is so full as I introduce you to the nurtured, expanded, second edition of that book, now titled:

    Autism: This is How I Party

    We kept the warm, empowering core of Adrián’s journey, the character the birthday girl Amelia, the story that has helped so many kids visualize what a birthday party could look and even feel like. But we nurtured it, like tending a garden, to make it even more supportive.

    Here’s what’s new in this second edition:

    • Richer, new Illustrations: We’ve added more visual cues and scenes to help kids see each step of the party process, from getting ready to finding a quiet corner, making the social landscape easier to navigate.
    • An Even Clearer, Step-by-Step Framework: We refined the party plan, making the “Where, Who, What, and When” even more intuitive for kids to follow and for parents to implement.
    • A Direct Response to Your Voice: Every piece of thoughtful feedback from families, teachers, and therapists was listened to. This edition is shaped by real-life use, making it a more practical and powerful tool.

    But we didn’t stop there.

    Your Free Gift: The Ultimate Autism-Friendly Party Plan

    The book gives kids their roadmap. Now, we want to give you, the amazing adult supporting them, a complete blueprint.

    As our heartfelt “thank you” for being part of this community, we’ve created a brand-new, FREE downloadable guide: “The Ultimate Autism-Friendly Party Plan.”

    This isn’t just a few tips. It’s a comprehensive, step-by-step checklist and strategy guide to:

    • Prepare: How to “preview” the party with your child days in advance.
    • Pack: What to put in your essential “Calm Down Kit” bag.
    • Partner: How to communicate with the host family to create a more inclusive environment for everyone.
    • Pivot: Clear strategies for recognizing overwhelm and executing a graceful break -or exit without shame.
    • Process: Helpful ways to decompress and celebrate the wins afterward.
    • Hosting: How you can be the host of your own party and how to communicate with guest about your child´s needs

    This guide takes the philosophy of the book and turns it into your actionable playbook for real life.

    Why This Book Exists: For Adrián, Guille, and Your Child

    Autism: This is How I Party was born from our lived reality. It’s not about forcing social compliance. It’s about empowering joyful participation. It’s about giving our kids:

    • Self-Awareness: To recognize their own mix of excitement and nerves.
    • Self-Management: With tools like the “Birthday Candle Breath” to find their calm.
    • Confidence: To know that needing a break is a smart strategy, not a social failure.

    This book is for the child who feels the flutter. It’s for the parent who wants to replace anxiety with anticipation. It’s for the teacher or therapist building social-emotional skills. It’s for the host family who wants their celebration to be welcoming for everyone.

    We are so grateful for the journey that led us to this new edition. This is more than a book update; it’s a testament to the power of community feedback and our shared commitment to seeing our children thrive.

    Ready to turn party anxiety into confident anticipation?

    Here’s to celebrating every child, exactly as they are, and giving them the tools to join the fun in their own wonderful way.

    With so much gratitude,

    Dalisse

  • Seeing Myself in Barbie: Healing, Hope, and the Complicated Gift of Representation

    • by

    I have a confession. I was scrolling through Instagram last week, mindlessly passing by vacation photos and recipes, when my feed stopped me cold. There she was. The new Autism Barbie. I read the caption, zoomed in on the photos, and right there on my kitchen floor, I was so happy.

    A yeiii scream came out instantly out of my mouth. The kind that come from a place so deep inside you didn’t even know it was waiting to be vocalized.

    Let me back up. I grew up in the 90s, a dedicated Barbie girl. I spent hours playing with my sister and our dolls, orchestrating elaborate play scenarios, silent stories in my head. But in all those stories, I never saw an autistic barbie, I remember the astonaut, the teacher, the fashion barbie. Even growing up with the AI I even saw a couple memes of reiki barbie (which I loved). I am a late-diagnosed autistic woman, and for most of my life, that part of me felt invisible, even to myself. I guess when I was young playing with Barbie was an escape, but it was also a quiet reminder that I didn’t fit the mold of the shiny, smiling, chatty world she represented.

    Now, I’m a mom to two incredible autistic boys, Adrián and Guille. My life is about advocating for their right to be seen. But sitting there with my phone in my hand, something shifted. This wasn’t just about them. This was about me. The little girl I was, who stimmed (masked a lot!) and daydreamed and felt different, finally had a reflection.

    Why This Feels Like a Hug for My Inner Child

    The details are what undid me. This isn’t just a blonde, blue-eyed doll with a puzzle piece printed on her shirt (thank goodness). She’s a woman of color with a gentle, averted gaze. She’s wearing soft, comfortable clothes you could actually relax in. And she comes with tools that are lifelines in our home: noise-canceling headphones, a fidget ring, and an AAC tablet.

    Seeing these items packaged not as medical equipment, but as part of a beautiful, stylish doll’s world… it legitimizes them. It tells the little girl I was, and it tells my sons now, that these tools aren’t markers of being “less than.” They are smart, helpful accessories for navigating a loud world. They are part of the story.

    I’ve read so many comments from other autistic adults who feel the same way.

    There’s a shared sense of being seen, often for the first time, in a mainstream toy aisle. Many of us are saying the same thing: I wish I had this when I was a kid.

    The Grateful Heart and The Nuanced Mind

    Now, let me put my mom-and-advocate hat on for a second. My heart is full, but my mind is realistic. I am deeply grateful to see that Mattel consulted with the Autistic Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) and based the doll on a real, autistic girl. That matters. It moves this from inspiration to collaboration.

    But I also hear the valid concerns echoing in our community. And I feel them too.

    The Spectrum is So Much Wider Than One Doll
    The biggest, most important conversation is this: autism is a spectrum of billions of unique people. One doll, with one skin tone, one hair texture, and one set of accessories, cannot possibly represent everyone. There’s a real risk that for a non-autistic person, this could slip into a new stereotype: “This is what autism looks like.” We need more. We need different body types, different genders, different sensory tools, and different expressions of being autistic.

    I’ve seen a brilliant suggestion: what about an accessory pack? A set of headphones, AAC devices, and fidgets that could snap onto any Barbie or Ken? That would let a child customize a doll to look like them, or their sibling, or their friend. That feels powerfully inclusive.

    What This Means for Our Kids (And Their Classmates)

    Beyond my own healing, I keep thinking about what this means in practical terms for my boys and their peers.

    For Guille, who is largely nonverbal and has used an AAC device, seeing that tablet in a Barbie’s hand isn’t just a toy. It’s a mirror that says, “Your voice is valid.” For Adrián, who needs his headphones to survive loud noises, it normalizes his need for quiet as just another way to be.

    And for their neurotypical classmates? This is a gentle, powerful teaching tool. It introduces accommodations not as something strange, but as normal, helpful parts of life. It can spark questions and conversations that build empathy, not pity. When disability representation sits on the shelf next to the veterinarian Barbie and the president Barbie, it sends a message: this is part of our world. This belongs.

    Holding Space for Complicated Feelings

    The online discourse around this doll has been… intense. And as a community, we’re exhausted by storms. I’ve seen people dismiss the excitement with, “It’s just a kids’ toy.” But it’s never just a toy. Toys are the blueprints of our imaginations. They tell us who gets to be the hero, who gets to be beautiful, who gets to be seen.

    I also understand the distrust. It’s a corporation. It’s about profit. Can real representation and capitalism coexist? It’s a fair and painful question. We can be grateful for the step forward and still demand more steps, more variety, and more authentic inclusion in the future.

    A Step Forward on a Long Path

    So, here’s my take, as a late-diagnosed autistic woman and a mom.

    This Autism Barbie is not the entire answer. She is not a perfect representation of a wildly diverse spectrum. But she is a meaningful, heartfelt step. She is proof that advocacy is working. She is a signal to companies that authentic representation matters to consumers.

    This is why I write the books I do. At Loving Pieces Books, I create stories where autistic kids are the main character. I know that no single book, just like no single doll, can represent all autistic children. My Adrián and my Guille are proof of how different two experiences can be, even in the same family. But a story can be a starting point. It can be that first, vital mirror for one child, and a window of understanding for another. It can be the spark for a conversation between a parent and a teacher, or the reason a child feels a little less alone. That’s the power of representation; it’s not about capturing everything, but about honestly capturing something that opens a door.

    For me, this doll is a chance to heal a childhood wound I didn’t even know I had. To tell that little girl inside me: You were always here. And you were always beautiful.

    And for my sons, she is one more brick in the world I’m trying to build for them, a world where they see themselves reflected back, not as an afterthought, but as a main character. Worthy of being on the shelf, exactly as they are.

    What do you think? Does this doll feel like representation to you? Let’s have a kind, nuanced conversation about it.

    With Love,

    Dalisse

    Just in case you need it here is the link to Buy the Autistic Barbie: https://amzn.to/3NF5dyQ

  • Creating Inclusive Classrooms: Tools and Stories for Every Child

    • by

    I will be honest with you.

    I am not a teacher. I am a mom. I have navigated the overwhelm of therapies, the silence after a hard day at school, and the fierce hope that someone, somewhere in that classroom, truly sees my children for the brilliant, unique people they are.

    This comes from that place. The messy, loving, and sometimes lonely place of wanting your child to belong. It is built from my own desperate searches, heartbreaking setbacks, and the small, glorious victories that showed me what’s possible. So, from one parent to another, let us talk about real tools and stories that can help bridge that gap between hope and reality. You can read more about my heart behind this Blog.

    Tools That Actually Work in Real Life

    Creating a space where your child is understood means finding tools that speak their language and sharing them with the people in their world. This is not about fancy programs. It is about practical, tangible things that make daily life feel safer and more joyful.

    What You Can Share with Their Educators

    I remember walking into meetings feeling small, armed with a folder full of worries. What helped me find my voice was shifting from just explaining diagnoses to sharing what works for my kids at home, I have to say my kids teachers have really helped us.

    For Adrián, visual aids are everything. His anxiety melts when he knows what is coming next. I started making simple visual schedules for our home routines. I printed one out for his teacher, it was not a demand. It was an offering. “This helps him at home. Maybe it could help here, too?” That simple sheet of pictures became his anchor in the classroom chaos. And to my surprise they have been using them at school too! This is why it is so important to have an open communication with School.

    Then there are sensory tools. For Guille, it is a specific textured fidget. I bought an extra one, just for school. I told his aide, “This is not a toy. This is his steering wheel. It helps him navigate the day.” Framing it that way changed everything. It became a tool for success, not a distraction.

    My biggest piece of advice? Offer these not as criticism, but as collaboration. You are the expert on your child. You hold the missing pieces to the puzzle. You can be a super team with School Teachers and support staff.

    Resources for Your Own Toolkit (and Sanity)

    Parenting is relentless. You need resources that support you, not exhaust you.

    Start with story. I looked everywhere for books where my boys could see themselves. Not as a lesson, but as a hero. That search, and that gap, is why I eventually created Loving Pieces Books I needed stories that showed the world through their eyes, to give them that mirror and to give their peers and teachers a window.

    But you cannot pour from an empty cup. My most vital resource has been community. Finding other parents who get it, who do not need the backstory, who just say, “Yep, me too.” It is a lifeline. For tracking progress and making sense of it all, a simple app or even a dedicated notebook can help you see patterns and celebrate wins you might otherwise miss.

    Stories That Build Understanding, Not Just Awareness

    Concepts do not change hearts. Stories do. Here are a few from our own life that made a difference.

    A Small Victory That Changed Everything

    In first grade, Adrián was struggling during group reading time. The noise, the closeness, it was all too much. His wonderful teacher, Ms. Carmen, called me. Instead of listing problems, she asked, “What does he love? What makes him light up?” I told her about his obsession with space facts.

    The next week, she gave him a special job: to be the “Train Fact Captain.” During transitions, he could share one cool fact. It gave him a structured, celebrated way to participate. His peers did not see a kid struggling to cope. They saw an expert. They started asking him questions. It was a tiny shift that changed his entire social standing. It showed me that inclusion is not about forcing a square peg into a round hole. It is about reshaping the hole.

    What My Sons Have Taught Me

    Guille, my five year old, is largely nonverbal. For a long time, I equated his silence with not understanding. One day, he was upset, and I ran through my usual list of questions. “Hurt? Hungry? Tired?” Nothing. In my frustration, I just sat down on the floor next to him and sighed, “I just wish I knew what you needed, my love.”

    He stopped crying, crawled into my lap, and put his hand over my heart. Then he took my hand and put it over his own. He was not just telling me he loved me. He was telling me he felt my love, and he was giving his back. He taught me that communication is so much bigger than words. My job is not to make him talk. My job is to listen in every way he knows how to speak.

    Weaving Connection Into Everyday Life

    Social emotional learning is not a class. It is the fabric of how we connect. Here is how I try to weave it into our world.

    Fostering Empathy with Peers and Siblings

    This starts at home. With Adrián and Guille, we practice “feeling faces” in the mirror. We name emotions in movies. I explain Adrián’s need for quiet to his brother in simple terms: “Guille, Adrián’s ears are feeling too full right now. Let’s use our quiet voices.”

    For peers, stories are my number one tool. When I volunteer in class, I might read a book that features a character with sensory sensitivities. After, I simply ask, “Has anything ever felt too loud or too bright for you?” Kids always say yes. That shared moment of understanding builds a bridge. It makes my son’s experience relatable, not strange.

    Why I Wrote Books for This Very Moment

    This is the heart behind Loving Pieces Books I wrote the stories I needed but could not find. Stories where the autistic character is not a puzzle to be solved, but a friend to be made, a hero on a journey. I use them with my own boys, and I share them with their schools.

    They are conversation starters. They are peace offerings. They are a way to say to a teacher or a classmate, “This is his world. Let me show you how beautiful it can be.” The goal is to build a culture where differences are not just accepted, but embraced as part of the rich tapestry of the classroom.

    Remember, you are not just advocating for a seat at the table. You are showing them how your child makes the table better. Some days you will be a fierce warrior. Other days, you will be a tired human who just gets through. I have been both.

    If you are looking for a place to start, I invite you to explore our FREE Resources. It is a collection of simple tools and guides I made from our own journey, for the moments when you need a little backup. You are the best thing your child has. And you are not alone.

  • The Power of Storytelling: Building Confidence Through Real Autistic Experiences

    • by

    You have probably noticed it, too. How the shelves of children’s books are filled with stories that feel… distant. I remember sitting on the floor of the library with a young Adrián, my heart sinking as I flipped through book after book. There were stories about “being kind to everyone,” which is beautiful, but none where he could truly “see” himself. None where the character got overwhelmed by the hum of the lights, or communicated joy with their whole body, or saw the world in patterns as breathtaking and complex as he does.

    That relentless search, that ache for a story that felt like a reflection and not a lesson, is where this all began. Storytelling, the right kind of storytelling, isn’t just a bedtime routine in our house. It’s a lifeline. It’s how we build confidence from the inside out, by showing my boys that their experiences are valid, real, and worthy of being the center of a great adventure. You can read more about our mission behind this in our post.

    The Quiet Magic of Seeing Yourself in a Story

    Let’s be real. For our kids, the world can feel like a place that constantly asks them to adjust, to mask, to explain. A story that mirrors their inner world does the opposite. It *comes to them*. It speaks their silent language.

    The Gift of Validation

    Imagine Guille, my five-year-old, pointing to a picture in a book of a boy covering his ears at a birthday party. His eyes get wide, and he looks at me, then back at the book, and pats his own chest. “Yes, mi amor,” I say. “He hears it too. It’s loud.” In that moment, he isn’t “too sensitive.” He is understood. By a character, by a story, and by me.

    That is the first, most profound power of authentic storytelling: validation. It tells my children, “You are not alone in this feeling. Your experience is real, and it is part of a story.” For Adrián, reading about a character who infodumps about dinosaurs and then feels awkward about it didn’t make him feel awkward. It made him feel seen. It gave his own passionate way of loving things a name and a home in a narrative. That is a building block of confidence you cannot create with just praise. It has to be felt.

    Finding a Roadmap in the Pages

    Confidence isn’t just about feeling good. It’s about believing you can handle things. This is where relatable characters become gentle guides.

    I remember when Adrián was dreading a school field trip to a crowded museum. We read a story about a character who used a “secret mission” checklist (first floor, find the blue whale, then find the quiet corner for five minutes) to navigate a busy place. It was a story, just a fun tale. But the next week, he asked if he could make a checklist for the museum. The story didn’t lecture him about coping strategies. It showed him a hero using one. It gave him a roadmap, disguised as an adventure. He felt in control, not because I told him he would be okay, but because a character he trusted had shown him how.

    More Than a Book: A Tool for Connection

    In our house, the right book is less about literature and more about a toolkit for understanding, for my boys, for me, and for their world.

    Building the Language for Feelings

    Before stories, frustration was a tornado in our house. Guille would cry, Adrián would shut down, and I would be left guessing. Stories gave us a common language. We read about a character who felt like a “soda bottle shaken up.” Now, when Adrián feels that bubbling overwhelm, he can sometimes say, “I’m a soda bottle, Mom.” That is huge. That is self-awareness, born from a metaphor in a picture book. It turns a confusing internal storm into something we can name and, therefore, something we can begin to manage together. Even Social stories hand-drawn work!

    Creating Bridges to Their World

    This is perhaps the most hopeful part. These stories aren’t just for my kids. They are for their peers, their teachers, their extended family. When I share our Loving Pieces Books with Adrián’s class, I’m not asking the kids to be nice. I’m inviting them into a fascinating, different perspective. I’m showing them why Guille might need to jump to feel calm, or how Adrián’s detailed memory works like a super skill.

    It transforms “that weird thing he does” into “oh, that’s how he works.” It builds empathy not from obligation, but from understanding. It helps create a supportive community around them, one curious reader at a time.

    This Is Why I Do What I Do

    I am not a children’s author by trade. I am a mom and along with my husband got tired of not finding the stories our sons deserved. We wrote the books needed in those lonely library aisles. I personally wrote them for the moms and dads who are searching for that mirror. I wrote them for the teachers who want to connect but need a doorway in. Most of all, I wrote them for the Adrian’s and Guille’s, to whisper through the pages: You are the main character of this story. Your way of being is not a side plot. It is the magic itself.

    If this resonates with you, if you are also searching for that authentic reflection for your child, I invite you to explore our book series, It’s a collection of stories and guides born from our real, messy, beautiful life a place to start when you’re ready to see your child’s story celebrated.

    Remember, the most powerful story you will ever help write is the one your child believes about themselves. Let’s make it a good one.

  • Quick Calming Strategies for Sensory Overload: A Lifeline for Autistic Children

    • by

    Let me paint you a real picture, one I know you’ve probably lived. It’s the middle of a busy grocery store, and everything is fine until it’s not. The flickering fluorescent lights, the screech of a cart, the perfume sample from two aisles over, it all crashes in at once. And there is my son, Guille, his hands clamped over his ears, his body rigid, eyes wide with a panic that tells me he’s drowning in a sensory storm I can’t fully see. Oh how I dreaded running to the store with him, I was always in alert!

    In that moment, your heart splits in two. One half feels the stares (real or imagined), the pressure to “calm him down.” The other half is screaming inside, wanting to wrap him in a bubble of quiet and just make it stop. I’ve been there on that hard floor, literally and metaphorically, more times than I can count.

    This isn’t about perfect, clinical solutions. It’s about the lifelines, the quick, desperate, often messy strategies we pull from our pockets when the world becomes too much. These are the ones that have worked in the trenches for Adrián, now 11, and Guille, 5. Let’s talk about real tools for real moments. You can find more on this in our post.

    First, Just Breathe (Yes, You, Too)

    Before we help them, we have to ground ourselves. I know the guilt, the fear. Take a breath with me. Your calm is their anchor, even if it feels like you’re faking it.

    Learning Their Secret Language of Overload

    For a long time, I missed the signs until it was too late. I thought a meltdown was just “bad behavior.” Then I learned to read their unique dialects of distress.

    For Adrián, it starts with a whisper. He goes quiet, his jokes stop. He might start rubbing the same spot on his arm. That’s his early warning system. Guille’s is different, a building hum, a restless pace, his hands starting to flap with more urgency, and then comes the full blow meltdown, hitting (himself and us), crying, trying to run…. Your child has had at least one meltdown too. It might look different than ours, could be just be covering their ears, seeking a tight corner, zoning out, or their skin becoming sensitive to touch. The first, most crucial strategy is becoming a detective of their calm. What does the “weather change” look like in their body before the storm hits? Catching it then is our golden window.

    Knowing the Triggers (So You Can Sometimes Dodge Them)

    We can’t avoid all triggers, life happens. But knowing them is half the battle. The usual suspects are there: loud, unpredictable noise (school cafeterias, I’m looking at you), harsh lighting, overwhelming smells, and too much tactile input, and for us was changes in routines.

    But then there are the secret ones. For Adrián, it’s the mix of smells in a bakery. For Guille, it’s the feeling of a seam in his sock. Keeping a simple mental (or actual) note of what leads to a hard moment helps us prepare. It’s not about building a bubble, but about giving them, and us, a heads-up.

    The In-The-Moment Toolkit: What Actually Works

    These are not grand interventions. They are small, portable acts of rescue. We mostly talk about them in our book Autism: Calming the Chaos

    The Power of a Co-Regulated Breath

    Telling a child in meltdown to “just breathe” is like telling someone on fire to relax. It has to be modeled, and it has to be physical. I get down on Guille’s level. I put my hand on my own chest and take a loud, exaggerated, slow breath in through my nose and out through my mouth. “Breathe with Mama,” I’ll say, my voice low and slow. Sometimes he ignores me. Sometimes, his little chest starts to mirror mine. We call it “dragon breaths” (exhaling hard) or “flower breaths” (smelling a flower, then blowing out a candle). We practiced this during calm times, so in crisis, his body sometimes remembers.

    The Instant Safe Space: Creating a Haven Anywhere

    We can’t always get to a quiet room. But we can create a micro-haven.

    • The Hoodie Hideout: Pulling up the hood of a soft hoodie can instantly dim the visual and auditory world.

    • The Lap Cave: If they allow touch, sitting on the floor and inviting them into your lap, with their back to your chest, can create deep pressure and block out visual chaos.

    • The Go-Bag Essentials: My purse always has noise-canceling headphones (the kid-sized ones are a game-changer), a favorite fidget (for us, it’s stretchy ropes), and a small, strong-smelling item like a vial of vanilla or a mint. A potent, familiar smell can anchor a brain that’s lost in sensory chaos.

    For more specific, curated tools that have been lifesavers for us, I’ve put together a list of our Sensory Recommended Curated Amazon Finds. These are the exact items that have earned a permanent place in our calming toolkit.

    Building Their Own Inner Regulation, One Brick at a Time

    The goal isn’t for us to always be the firefighter. It’s to hand them the hose, bit by bit.

    The Security of Predictability

    Routine is the scaffold that holds up my boys’ days. A visual schedule (pictures for Guille, words for Adrián) isn’t about rigidity; it’s about safety. Knowing what comes next lowers the background anxiety that makes sensory overload more likely. We even include “quiet time” and “sensory break” as non-negotiable blocks on the schedule. It legitimizes their need to recharge.

    Giving Feelings a Name and a Home

    After the storm passes, when we’re both soft and tired, we talk. We use the language from our Loving Pieces Books. “Remember when the character felt like a shaken soda bottle? Was it like that?” I give them the words: “Your senses were too full.” I validate: “That is so hard. Your brain was taking in too much information.” This does two things: it tells them their experience is real and understandable, and it begins to build a narrative around it. Over time, Adrián has started to say, “I’m getting too much input. I need my headphones.” That is empowerment. That is the goal.

    This journey is a series of small rescues and tiny victories. Some days, the strategy works. Some days, nothing does, and you just ride the wave with them, your presence the only anchor. That is enough. You are enough.

    For more tools and a deeper dive into creating a supportive world for your child, I invite you to explore our FREE Resources. It’s a collection born from our lived experience, for when you need a little hope and a practical idea.

    You are not managing a behavior. You are protecting a sensitive, brilliant nervous system. And you’re doing an incredible job.

  • Creating Inclusive Classrooms: Moving Beyond Stereotypes to Support Autistic Students

    • by

    I need to start with a confession of gratitude. My family has been incredibly fortunate. Adrián and Guille attend a school where the teachers and staff don’t just see a diagnosis. They see Adrián, with his encyclopedic knowledge of marine life and his sudden, brilliant jokes. They see Guille, with his deep, observant eyes and his joyful, whole-body communication. They see their potential first, and they work with us as partners. It’s a gift I don’t take for a single day.

    But over the years, in online groups and late-night conversations, I’ve heard a different story. So many stories, in fact. Stories from parents whose hearts break a little each morning, sending their child into a classroom where they are seen as a problem to be managed, a stereotype to be fit into, or a mystery that’s too complex to solve. I’ve heard these stories from parents everywhere, and I know that a child’s experience can depend so much on their location, their district, or even the single teacher they get that year.

    That disparity, that gap between what is possible and what is happening for so many, is why this conversation matters. This isn’t about theory. It’s about the real, daily life of our kids. Let’s talk about moving beyond the stereotypes to see and support the whole, amazing child. You can read more in our post.

    Peeling Off the Labels to See the Child

    We’ve all heard the stereotypes. The math whiz with no social skills. The nonverbal child in their own world. The “low-functioning” versus “high-functioning” binary that tells us nothing about who a person actually is.

    The Harm in a Single Story

    Stereotypes aren’t just inaccurate; they’re limiting. They tell our kids what they can’t do, and they tell educators where to set the bar. Moving beyond them means getting curious. It means asking: What are this child’s unique strengths? What does their communication look like? What brings them joy? It means trading the label for a learner’s profile.

    Celebrating the Neurodiverse Garden

    I love the metaphor of a neurodiverse garden. In our dream garden, you wouldn’t get mad at an orchid for not being a sunflower. You’d learn what the orchid needs, more humidity, indirect light, a specific kind of care, and you’d be rewarded with a breathtaking, unique bloom.

    Guille is my orchid. He communicates without many words, but his language of touch, gesture, and expression is profound. A classroom that embraces neurodiversity doesn’t try to force him to be a sunflower. It appreciates his unique beauty and structures the soil so he can thrive. It understands that the goal isn’t to make him “normal,” but to help him grow into his fullest, most magnificent self. This shift in perspective, from “fixing” to “nurturing”, changes everything.

    From Understanding to Action: Real Strategies That Work

    So how do we turn this philosophy into a Monday morning practice? Here are some things I’ve seen work, both in my kids’ blessed classrooms and in stories shared by parents fighting for change.

    Designing the Space for All Brains

    Inclusion starts with the physical space. Think about a “quiet corner” not as a time-out spot, but as a recharge station, with noise-canceling headphones, a weighted lap pad, and soft lighting. It’s a proactive tool, not a punishment. Adrián Teacher, Mr. Nuria has the best calm corner in school and she made it thinking about all her students needs which gives it more meaning. And Guillermo has his teacher create a calm classroom the entire classroom is adapted to have sensory needs covered! It has flexible seating and visual schedules (pictures for Guille, written lists for Adrián) aren’t accommodations for “special” kids; they’re tools that reduce anxiety and increase independence for many kids. When Adrián’s class started using a visual timer for transitions, the whole room got calmer.

    Teaching Empathy, Not Just Tolerance

    Empathy isn’t something you lecture about. It’s something you model and create experiences for. One of the most powerful tools I’ve seen is using story to build connection. When a teacher reads a book from our Loving Pieces Books collection that features an autistic character, it’s not a “lesson about autism.” It’s an invitation into a different perspective. Kids start asking questions. They might say, “Oh, that’s why Guille wears headphones!” It builds understanding from a place of narrative curiosity, not from a list of rules. This is how you build a classroom community that protects and includes everyone.

    Partnering, Not Just Reporting

    This is the most critical shift. For parents who aren’t seen as partners, school can feel like a fortress. True inclusion means teachers and parents are on the same team. It looks like a teacher asking me, “What works for Guille when he’s overwhelmed at home?” and actually using that information. It looks like co-creating simple, one-page profiles that list a child’s strengths, triggers, and calming strategies, not just their deficits. This partnership tells a child, “The important adults in my life are talking, and they both get me.”

    Building a Wider Circle of Support

    Change in one classroom is wonderful. Systemic change is the goal. I love how in Adri’s and Guille School all the classrooms whether they have a neurodivergent student or not has a calm corner!

    For the Educators Asking for More

    If you’re an educator reading this and wanting to learn, thank you. Your willingness to learn is the first and biggest step. Seek out resources written by actually autistic adults and parents in the trenches. They offer the real-world insight that manuals often miss. Our FREE Resources page is one place to start, built from our lived experience.

    For the Parents Fighting for a Seat at the Table

    To every parent who has had to be a relentless advocate, I see you. I hear your stories. It should not be this hard. My heart is with you. Sometimes, the most powerful tool you can bring is a story a story about your child’s brilliance, their struggles, their humanity. Sometimes, it’s finding that one ally in the building and starting there.

    We have been fortunate. But our story shouldn’t be rare. It should be the standard. Every child deserves to walk into a school that is ready to see them, support them, and be delighted by who they are. Let’s keep sharing our stories, the hard and the hopeful, until that becomes every child’s reality.

  • Explaining Autism to Your Child’s Siblings: A Heartfelt Guide

    • by

    The Question That Broke My Heart (And Opened a Door)

    “Why does Adrián get to stay home from Grandma’s party, but I have to go?”

    My neurotypical 3-year-old niece asked me this during a family gathering. And honestly? I didn’t have a good answer ready.

    Because how do you explain to a child that their autistic cousin isn’t “getting away with” something, he’s protecting his nervous system from complete overwhelm?

    How do you help cousins or even siblings understand autism in a way that builds empathy instead of resentment?

    Both my son’s are autistic, but it makes me wonder. How do you make sure neurotypical siblings don’t feel invisible while you’re managing meltdowns, therapies, and endless accommodations?.

    These questions kept me up at night when Adrián was first diagnosed. And now, watching Guillermo (5) and Adrián (11) navigate their relationship as two autistic brothers with different needs, I’m still figuring it out.

    But I’ve learned some things along the way. And I want to share them with you, not as an expert, but as someone in the messy middle of this journey.

    Why This Conversation Matters So Much

    Here’s something I didn’t expect: how I talked about autism with Adrián’s cousins, friends, and eventually with Guillermo, shaped how Adrián felt about himself.

    When I used euphemisms or avoided the topic, Adrián heard: “There’s something wrong with you that we don’t talk about.”.

    When I spoke about autism matter-of-factly, with honesty and respect, he heard: “This is part of who you are, and it’s nothing to hide.”.

    The way we explain autism sets the tone for the entire family dynamic.

    What I Got Wrong at First

    Let me be honest about my early mistakes…

    Mistake #1: Using the “Superpower” Language

    “Autism is Adrián’s superpower!”……

    I said this with the best intentions. I wanted his cousins to see autism as positive.

    But here’s the problem: autism isn’t a superpower. It’s a neurotype.

    It comes with genuine strengths: Adrián’s incredible memory, his ability to focus intensely on topics he loves, his pattern recognition.

    But it also comes with genuine challenges: sensory overwhelm, social communication differences, anxiety about changes.

    Calling it a superpower set up unrealistic expectations. When Adrián had a meltdown or needed accommodations, his cousins were confused. “I thought autism was a superpower? Why does he need special help?”.

    Mistake #2: Only Talking About the “Special Needs”

    For a while, the only time I mentioned autism was when explaining why Adrián needed something different.

    “He needs headphones because of his autism.”…… “We’re leaving early because of his autism.”…… “He can’t handle that because of his autism.”……

    All my family heard this: Autism = limitations, problems, things that make family events harder.

    Mistake #3: Making It Too Clinical

    “Adrián’s brain is wired differently. His neurons fire in unique patterns that affect how he processes sensory input and social communication.”.

    I said this to a 6-year-old……

    His eyes glazed over. He had no idea what I was talking about.

    Kids need simple, honest, relatable explanations, not clinical jargon.

    Encouraging Conversations About Autism

    Encourage your kids to ask questions. It’s okay not to have all the answers. In fact, admitting “I’m not sure, let’s find out together” can be powerful. It shows your children that learning is a shared journey. Open dialogue helps them feel more comfortable expressing their thoughts and concerns.

    When his friends asked, “Why does Adrián flap his hands?” I used it as a teaching moment. I explained it’s one way he shows excitement or calms himself. “Just like when you sing your favorite song to feel happy,” I added. By relating it to their own experiences, it became less mysterious and more relatable to his friends.

    What Actually Works: The Conversations That Build Understanding

    After years of trial and error, here’s what I’ve learned about explaining autism to friends, cousins and even applied to siblings and other children in a way that actually helps.

    Start With “Different, Not Less”

    What I say now: “You know how everyone’s brain works a little differently? Some people are really good at math, some at art, some at sports. Adrián’s brain works differently too. It’s called autism. It means some things that are easy for you might be harder for him, and some things that are hard for you might be easier for him.”.

    Why this works: It normalizes differences without making autism sound like a tragedy OR a superpower. It’s just… a different way of being.

    Use Specific, Relatable Examples

    Instead of: “Adrián has sensory sensitivities.”.

    I say: “You know how when you eat a food you really hate, it makes you want to gag? For Adrián, certain sounds or lights feel that bad to him. So he uses headphones to make it more comfortable, just like you might close your eyes if a light is too bright.”.

    Why this works: Kids can relate to sensory experiences they don’t like. It helps them understand that Adrián isn’t being difficult, he’s managing something genuinely uncomfortable.

    Acknowledge the Hard Parts (For Everyone)

    What I say to my niece: “I know sometimes it’s frustrating when we have to leave places early because Adrián is overwhelmed. That’s hard for you, you want to stay and have fun. It’s hard for Adrián too, he wishes he could handle it but his body just can’t. And it’s hard for me because I want everyone to be happy. It’s okay that it’s hard.”.

    Why this works: Validating neurotypical feelings doesn’t mean you’re criticizing the autistic child. Both things can be true: This is hard AND we’re still going to do what’s needed.

    Celebrate the Unique Perspectives

    What I say: “Did you notice how Adrián remembered every single Roman emperor in order? His autism brain is really good at remembering details and patterns. That’s pretty cool, right?”.

    Or: “I love how Adrián tells you EXACTLY what he thinks. He doesn’t do fake compliments or say things just to be polite. When he says he likes your drawing, you know he really means it.”.

    Why this works: It helps see autism traits as neutral or positive, not just as problems to manage.

    The Book That Helped Us Have This Conversation

    When Adrián started asking questions about why he and Guillermo are “different kinds of different” (his words!), I realized I needed better tools.

    That’s why Luis and I wrote Autism: My Invisible Backpack.

    This book uses the metaphor of an invisible backpack that everyone carries, filled with emotions, experiences, and the weight of masking or managing challenges.

    Why it works for other kids like close friends, cousins or siblings:

    • It explains autism concepts (masking, sensory overload, literal thinking) in kid-friendly language

    • It shows that EVERYONE carries emotional weight, not just autistic people

    • It validates both the autistic experience AND the sibling experience

    • It opens conversations without feeling like a lecture.

    We’ve read it with both boys, and it’s helped Adri understand why Guille and himself sometimes needs breaks, why they get exhausted after school, why they do things differently.

    The Ongoing Conversations (Not Just One Talk)

    Here’s what I wish I’d known: you don’t have one conversation about autism and then you’re done.

    It’s an ongoing dialogue that evolves as children grow and their understanding deepens.

    Ages 3-5: Very Simple, Concrete

    “Adrián’s ears are more sensitive than yours. Loud sounds hurt him, so he wears special headphones.”.

    That’s it. Don’t overcomplicate.

    Ages 6-8: More Detail, Still Simple

    “Adrián has autism, which means his brain works differently. Some things are easier for him, like remembering facts. Some things are harder, like knowing when someone is joking. That’s why he sometimes takes things literally.”.

    Ages 9-12: Deeper Understanding

    “Autism means Adrián experiences the world differently. Sensory things like sounds and lights can be overwhelming. Social situations take more energy because he has to think about things that come naturally to you. That’s why he needs breaks and accommodations sometimes.”.

    Teens: Nuanced Conversations

    At this age, you can discuss masking, identity, the social model of disability, neurodiversity as part of human diversity.

    The conversations grow with the child. Start simple, add complexity as they can handle it.

    What About When close cousins or siblings Feel Jealous or Resentful?

    Let’s be real: sometimes neurotypical siblings DO feel jealous or resentful. My boys don’t have siblings but they do have very close cousins.

    “Adrián gets to stay home. I want to stay home too!”…… “Why does everything have to be about HIS needs?”…… “I never get this much attention.”……

    These feelings are valid. And they need to be acknowledged. Even sometimes Adrián even gets resentful for Guille there is a big age gap between them.

    What NOT to Say:

    ❌ “Don’t be selfish. Your brother has autism.”…… ❌ “You should be grateful you don’t have his challenges.”…… ❌ “Stop complaining.”……

    These responses shut down communication and breed resentment.

    What TO Say:

    ✓ “I hear you. It IS frustrating when we have to leave early. Your feelings matter too.”.

    ✓ “You’re right that Adrián gets a lot of my attention, especially when he’s struggling. That doesn’t mean I love you less. Let’s find some special time just for us.”.

    ✓ “Sometimes it feels unfair that Adrián gets different rules. The truth is, everyone in our family gets what they need, and those needs are different. You need different things than he does, and that’s okay too.”.

    Validation doesn’t mean you change the accommodations. It just means you acknowledge that this is hard for everyone.

    Building Empathy Without Parentifying Siblings

    Here’s a trap I almost fell into: making my neurotypical nephew feel responsible for understanding, helping, and accommodating Adrián.

    “You need to be patient with your cousin.”…… “Can you help Adrián with this?”…… “You’re such a good helper!”……

    While building empathy is important, siblings shouldn’t become mini-therapists or mini-parents.

    The Balance:

    YES to: “It’s kind when you’re patient with Adrián.”. NO to: “You HAVE to be patient with Adrián. He can’t help it.”.

    YES to: “Thanks for thinking of Adrián’s needs.”. NO to: “You’re responsible for making sure Adrián is okay.”.

    Empathy is a gift, not an obligation. Siblings can choose to be understanding, but it shouldn’t be forced or expected at the expense of their own needs.

    Creating Family Rituals That Include Everyone

    One thing that’s really helped our family: creating traditions and rituals that honor both boys’ needs.

    Our “Everyone Picks” System

    Every Friday, each family member picks one thing we do together. It rotates.

    • Adrián might pick: Watch a documentary about trains

    • Guille might pick: Dance party in the living room

    • I might pick: Family walk

    • Luis might pick: Game night.

    Everyone’s interests are valued equally. No one’s needs dominate.

    Celebrating Different Wins

    When Adrián reaches a milestone (like getting through a school assembly without leaving), we celebrate.

    But we ALSO celebrate when Guillermo reaches HIS milestones (like trying a new food).

    Every child deserves to have their growth acknowledged.

    With love and understanding,
    Dalisse (& Luis)
    Loving Pieces Books

    💙 How have you explained autism to siblings in your family? What’s worked? What’s been hard? Share with our community—we’re all learning together. Find us on Instagram @lovingpiecesbooks or explore more resources at lovingpiecesbooks.com.

  • Creating Mask-Free Zones: A Loving Approach to Authenticity at Home and School

    • by

    The Day They Told Me Adrián Was “Acting Normal” at School

    A good friend of Adrián told me at pick-up “Adrián, Is SO tired, but he was acting normal all day.”

    “What do you mean, ‘acting normal’?” I asked..

    “You know… making eye contact. Not stimming. Sitting still. Acting like other kids.”

    My heart broke. Because I realized: my son was masking. And he was exhausted from it.

    That conversation changed everything for our family. It’s why Luis and I became obsessed with creating mask-free zones, spaces where Adrián (and now Guille) never have to pretend to be anything other than exactly who they are.

    If your autistic child is exhausted, withdrawn, or having meltdowns after seemingly “good” days, masking might be why. And creating mask-free zones might be the answer.

    What IS Masking? (And Why It’s So Exhausting)

    Masking is when autistic people hide or suppress their natural autistic traits to fit in with neurotypical expectations.

    It looks like:

    • Forcing eye contact when it’s uncomfortable

    • Suppressing stims (no hand-flapping, no rocking, no vocal sounds)

    • Scripting conversations instead of speaking naturally

    • Pretending to understand social cues they actually don’t get

    • Hiding sensory sensitivities

    • Mirroring others’ body language and expressions

    • Acting interested in things they find boring.

    And here’s the cost: It’s exhausting!

    Imagine spending every moment of your day monitoring your body language, your facial expressions, your tone of voice. Imagine suppressing your natural movements and responses. Imagine translating every social interaction like you’re speaking a foreign language.

    That’s what masking feels like. And that’s what Adrián was doing all day, every day, at school.

    Why Kids Mask

    Adrián didn’t consciously decide one day to start masking. It happened gradually.

    He learned that:

    • Adults praised him when he made eye contact

    • Kids stopped staring when he stopped stimming

    • Adults thought he was “doing better” when he sat still

    • People were nicer to him when he “acted normal”

    So he learned to hide who he really was to make others more comfortable.

    And the heartbreaking part? He thought this was what he was supposed to do…

    The Signs Your Child Might Be Masking

    I didn’t recognize Adrián’s masking for years because at school, he seemed “fine.” His teachers said he was doing well. He wasn’t having meltdowns there…

    But at home? Different story.

    The After-School Collapse

    Within 20 minutes of getting home, specially in the early years Adrián would have a meltdown. Over tiny things, wrong snack, homework, his brother existing……

    I thought, “Why does he save all this for me?”

    Now I know: He was holding it together all day, and home was the only place safe enough to fall apart.

    The Weekend Shutdown

    Fridays through Sundays, Adrián would barely speak. He’d retreat to his room, avoid family activities, resist any plans.

    I worried he was depressed…

    But he was recovering from a week of masking. He needed that quiet, that solitude, that lack of demands.

    The Loss of Authentic Interests

    Adrián stopped talking about trains at school, his biggest passion, because other kids didn’t share that interest……

    He’d come home and talk about popular shows he didn’t even like, repeating things he’d heard other kids say……

    He was losing himself trying to fit in.……

    Physical Symptoms

    Headaches. Stomach aches. Trouble sleeping. These all increased during the school year and eased during breaks.

    Masking isn’t just emotionally exhausting, it’s physically draining.

    Creating Mask-Free Zones at Home

    Once I understood what was happening, Luis and I committed to making our home a place where masking was never necessary.

    Rule #1: Stimming Is Always Welcome

    Before: “Adrián, hands still.” “Stop making that sound.” “Sit properly.”……

    Now: Our home is a stim-friendly zone. Hand-flapping? Great. Vocal sounds? Go for it. Pacing while thinking? Perfect.

    We don’t just allow stimming, we celebrate it as part of who he is.

    Guille watches his brother stim freely and is learning that his own stims (spinning, jumping, echolalia) are perfectly okay too.

    Rule #2: No Forced Eye Contact

    In our home, you never have to look at someone to show you’re listening. ( I do this all the time as an Autistic Adult)

    Luis and I have learned to trust that Adrián is paying attention even when he’s looking away, building LEGO, or lying on the floor.

    Sometimes his best conversations happen while he’s doing something else with his hands.

    Rule #3: Honest Answers Are Valued

    “How was your day?”……

    Before, Adrián would say: “Fine.”…

    Now, he might say: “Loud and overwhelming. I’m glad to be home.”

    We don’t pressure him to be positive or polite. We want honesty. Even if that honesty is “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

    Rule #4: Special Interests Are Treasured

    Adrián can talk about Roman history for an hour, and we listen. Not politely waiting for him to finish, but actually interested because his passion is beautiful.

    When he brings home a new fact about steam engines, we don’t redirect. We engage.

    His special interests aren’t annoying quirks to manage. They’re windows into what makes him amazing.

    Rule #5: “No” Is a Complete Sentence

    Family gathering? “Can I stay home?”…… Trying a new food? “No thanks.”…… Hug from a relative? “I’d rather not.”……

    In our home, Adrián doesn’t have to justify his boundaries. We trust that he knows what he needs.

    The Physical Space Matters Too

    Adrián’s room is his ultimate mask-free zone:

    • Dim lighting (he controls it)

    • His collections displayed proudly (trains, historical figures, maps)

    • Comfortable clothing only (tags cut out, soft fabrics)

    • Sensory tools within reach

    • No expectations for organization (his “mess” makes sense to him).

    This is HIS space. We don’t impose our neurotypical preferences on it.

    What About School? (Can We Create Mask-Free Zones There?)

    Here’s the harder truth: school is where masking happens most intensely.

    But Luis and I have worked with Adrián’s teachers to create moments of mask-free time, even in that environment, they are experienced and have given us peace of mind and working along with the therapists and us parents has been a life-saver:

    What We’ve Agreed together (Teacher-Therapist-Parents):

    ✓ Fidget tools during class – Adrián can use a fidget while listening. It helps him focus, not distract him……

    ✓ Movement breaks – Built into the schedule, not earned through “good behavior”……

    ✓ Alternative seating – Specially younger, Adrián uses a wobble cushion instead of sitting rigidly still……

    ✓ Reduced eye contact expectations – His teacher understands he’s listening even when not looking……

    ✓ A quiet lunch option – Instead of the overwhelming cafeteria, he can eat in the library with a small group……

    ✓ Special interest integration – When possible, assignments connect to his interests (he did a history project on trains and thrived)……

    ✓ Acceptance of stims – As long as he’s not disrupting others’ learning, his stims are welcomed……

    The Conversation With Teachers

    Luckily we never tiptoe around asking for accommodations, worried about being “that parent.”……

    We believe a honest and truthful conversation with teachers is the best way to go.

    “Adrián masks heavily at school to meet neurotypical expectations. It’s exhausting for him and leads to meltdowns at home. Can we work together to reduce the need for masking during the school day?”

    You might find that some teachers get it immediately. Others need ideas and tips. But starting the conversation has made a huge difference……

    For Educators: How to Create Mask-Free Moments

    If you’re a teacher reading this, here’s what would help autistic students in your classroom:……

    Start With Awareness

    Recognize that the “well-behaved” autistic student who never causes problems might be masking intensely, and paying a huge price for it.

    Build In Regulation Time

    Don’t make breaks something kids have to earn. Build them into the day for everyone.

    Adrián’s best teacher had a “sensory break” built into the schedule every 90 minutes. ALL students benefited, not just the autistic ones.

    Challenge Your Own Expectations

    Does a student really need to make eye contact to show respect? Do they really need to sit completely still to be learning?

    Often, we’re requiring masking without realizing it.

    Create Quiet Options

    Not every child thrives in group activities or loud environments. Having a quiet alternative isn’t “special treatment”, it’s meeting different needs.

    Celebrate Neurodiversity

    When you openly value different ways of thinking, moving, and being in your classroom, you send the message that masking isn’t required.

    Display neurodiversity-affirming posters. Read books with autistic characters. Talk about different learning styles as equally valid.

    This benefits all students, not just autistic ones.

    The Cost of Masking (Why This Matters So Much)

    I want to be clear about something: masking isn’t harmless.Research shows that prolonged masking is linked to:

    • Burnout and exhaustion

    • Anxiety and depression

    • Loss of identity and sense of self

    • Delayed recognition of one’s own needs

    • Increased risk of suicide in autistic adults..

    When Adrián tells me he is “tired of acting normal,” that was a warning sign……

    Creating mask-free zones isn’t just about comfort. It’s about mental health. It’s about allowing our kids to know and be themselves.

    What You Can Do Today: 5 Steps to Honor Your Child’s True Self

    These are the shifts I wish I had made sooner. They’re not about fixing your child, but about changing the environment to let their true self shine.

    1. Recognize the Masking
    Notice the pattern of “good days at school / meltdowns at home.” It’s not defiance, it’s often the exhausting cost of masking all day. That meltdown is the backpack of anxiety finally being unpacked.

    2. Declare Home a Mask-Free Zone
    Tell them, explicitly and often: “You never have to hide who you are in this house.” This verbal permission can be a profound relief.

    3. Model Your Own Authenticity
    After my own diagnosis, I stopped masking my own autistic traits at home. When he saw me stim, or need quiet, or be blunt about my feelings, it gave him silent, powerful permission to do the same.

    4. Advocate Boldly, Not Apologetically
    I was too worried about being a “difficult parent.” I wish I’d pushed harder, sooner, for the supports he needed. You are not being difficult; you are being necessary.

    5. Celebrate, Don’t Just Tolerate
    Move beyond allowing his traits to actively celebrating them. That intense focus? It’s passion. That need for routine? It’s brilliant foresight. Name the strength behind the behavior.

    Resources That Have Helped Us

    If you’re realizing your child has been masking and you want to create safer spaces for them, here’s what has genuinely helped our family:

    📚 Autism: My Invisible Backpack – This book explores masking from Adrián’s perspective and includes strategies for creating mask-free zones.

    And we’ve created FREE downloadable resources including:

    • Creating Mask-Free Zones guide

    • Accommodations request template for schools

    • Recognizing masking checklist

    • Building authentic confidence activities……

    Your child shouldn’t have to earn the right to be themselves. They should know it’s a given, at least in the spaces you control.

    With love and authenticity,
    Dalisse (& Luis)
    Loving Pieces Books

    💙 Does your child mask? How do you create safe spaces for authenticity? Share with our community, we’re all learning together. Find us on Instagram @lovingpiecesbooks or explore more resources at lovingpiecesbooks.com.

  • Unpacking Your Child’s Invisible Backpack: A Journey Toward Emotional Understanding

    • by

    When Your Child’s Invisible Backpack Gets Too Heavy to Carry

    Five o’clock pickup. Every day.

    I watch Adrián walk out of school, and I can see it, the weight he’s been carrying all day finally starting to show.

    His shoulders are tense. His face is tight. His usual animated energy? Gone!

    By the time we get to the car, he’s barely speaking. And by the time we get home? Full meltdown!

    For years, I thought I was doing something wrong. Why does he hold it together at school but fall apart at home? Why is he so exhausted after a “normal” day?

    We came up with a concept that changed everything: the invisible backpack…

    Every autistic child carries one. And most of us… parents, teachers, even the kids themselves, don’t realize how heavy it gets.

    What IS the Invisible Backpack?

    Imagine starting your day with an empty backpack.

    But every sensory input… every fluorescent light buzz, every unexpected loud noise, every texture that feels wrong, every social interaction that requires masking+adds a stone to that backpack.

    By lunchtime, it’s getting heavy!

    By afternoon, it’s almost unbearable.

    By the time your child gets home, their safe place, that backpack is so full, so heavy, that it all comes tumbling out…

    That’s what I was seeing with Adrián.

    He wasn’t “fine all day and then acting out at home.” He was holding it together where he had to, then finally releasing the weight where he felt safe enough to let go.

    Understanding this changed how I saw those after-school meltdowns. They weren’t behavior problems. They were evidence of how hard he’d been working all day just to keep it together.

    The Signs I Wish I’d Recognized Sooner

    Looking back, Adrián was showing me his backpack was getting heavy. I just didn’t know what I was looking at.

    The Quiet Withdrawal

    SOme days when Adrián comes home from school, he used to immediately go to his room. No hello. No “how was your day?” Just… retreat……

    I thought he was being rude or antisocial. But he was seeking the quiet, the solitude, the sensory reduction he desperately needed after hours of holding it together.

    Now I understand: That withdrawal isn’t rejection. It’s self-preservation.

    The Delayed Meltdowns

    Adrián would have a great day at school, his teacher would tell me so. Then he’d come home and have a massive meltdown over something tiny, or something that happened ages ago.

    I couldn’t understand the disconnect. If school was good, why the meltdown?

    Because the backpack doesn’t empty instantly. Just because he made it through the day doesn’t mean the emotional and sensory load disappears. It needs to be unpacked, and sometimes that unpacking is messy.

    The Exhaustion

    On weekends, Adrián would sleep late, move slowly, resist any plans or outings.

    I worried he was depressed or lazy. But he was exhausted. Carrying that invisible backpack all week is genuinely, physically draining…

    Now I know: He needs that recovery time. It’s not optional…

    For Guillermo (My 5-Year-Old)

    Guille’s backpack signs look different:

    • Increased stimming – More hand-flapping, more spinning, more vocal sounds

    • Regression in skills – Losing words he had earlier, needing more help with things he usually does independently

    • Physical symptoms – Headaches, tummy aches, difficulty sleeping

    • Clinginess – Not wanting to separate from me or Luis, even for short periods…

    The backpack fills differently for every child. But it always fills.……

    What Goes IN the Invisible Backpack?

    Let me walk you through a typical school day for a child, and show you how the backpack could get filled up:

    7:00 AM – Morning routine
    Stones added: Rushing, loud noises from breakfast, bright bathroom lights, uncomfortable school clothes with tags. Nervousness of getting late to school because unexpected traffic or something else.

    8:30 AM – Arrival at school
    Stones added: Crowded hallway, multiple conversations at once, fluorescent lights, unexpected schedule change announced.

    9:00 AM – Classroom
    Stones added: Sitting still for long periods, maintaining “appropriate” body language, suppressing stims, making eye contact when called on…

    12:00 PM – Lunch
    Stones added: Loud cafeteria, overwhelming smells, navigating social interactions, someone sitting too close, unexpected fire drill…

    3:00 PM – End of day
    Stones added: Transition to dismissal, crowded hallway again, loud buses, holding everything in “just a little longer”…

    By the time he gets home? That backpack is FULL!!!!!

    And as parents we tend to add MORE by immediately asking questions, making demands, expecting him to transition right into homework or chores…

    No wonder this can escalate to a meltdown……This is why it´s so important to unpack with Care

    How We Help Adrián and Guillermo Unpack their Backpacks

    Once I understood what was heavy, Luis and I completely changed our after-school routine.

    Step 1: Quiet Arrival

    Before: “Hi! How was your day? What did you learn? Did you have fun? What’s for snack? When’s homework?”……

    Now: “Hi, love. We missed you all day.” Then… silence. Space. No demands……

    Car ride home in silence. Adrián goes straight to his room for 20-30 minutes. No questions asked… And Guillermo audits the house to make sure we did not change his toys.

    Step 2: Sensory Reset

    In his room, Adrián has:

    • Dim lighting (a Salt Lamp does the trick for him and Guillermo)

    • His favorite comfort items (currently TV with his favorite Youtube train channels)

    • Permission to stim freely, no one’s watching, no one’s judging…

    This isn’t avoidance. This is regulation...

    Step 3: Gradual Reentry

    After his alone time, Adrián emerges when he’s ready. Sometimes it’s 20 minutes. Sometimes it’s an hour. We follow his lead…

    When he does come out, we offer:

    • A preferred snack (he chooses)

    • Quiet activity options (Playing with his books, or train sets or just any game at the playroom)

    • Casual presence (we’re available if he wants to talk, but we don’t push), he usually leads the talks specially with his ecolalias and infodumping.

    Step 4: Delayed Conversations

    We used to have “the talk” about his day immediately. Now? We wait…

    After dinner, when he’s regulated and comfortable, we might ask gentle questions:

    • “Want to tell me about your day?”

    • “Anything you’re proud of from today?”

    • “Anything that was hard?”……

    He can say “not right now” and that’s okay. Sometimes we don’t process the day until the next morning…

    For Guillermo

    At 5, Guille can’t articulate his backpack yet. So we read his body:

    • If he’s clingy: Extra physical closeness, weighted lap pad while he watches his show

    • If he’s overstimulated: Dim lights, quiet environment, maybe a bath with gentle music

    • If he’s about to have a meltdown: Safe space to let it out, minimal talking, just presence…

    We’re teaching him language for his feelings, but right now, our job is mainly to recognize the signs and provide the support…

    Building Emotional Vocabulary (Without Adding Pressure)

    Here’s something that helped Adrián understand his own backpack: giving him language for what he was experiencing…

    We use a “backpack check-in” now. It’s simple:

    “How full is your backpack right now?”

    • Empty

    • A little full

    • Medium full

    • Pretty full

    • Overflowing…

    Adrián can point to a visual chart or just say the words. This gives him a way to communicate his internal state without having to explain everything.

    We also practice naming emotions when he’s calm:

    • “Remember yesterday when you felt overwhelmed? Your backpack was pretty full.”

    • “Today you seemed more relaxed. Your backpack wasn’t as heavy.”

    This isn’t therapy homework. It’s just giving him tools to understand himself.

    What About School? (Creating Mask-Free Zones There Too)

    I’ve had honest conversations with Adrián’s teachers about the invisible backpack… our school has a lot of experience with special needs students so this has giving us more peace of mind.

    Some things that have helped Adrián and Guillermo that they practice at school:

    ✓ Sensory breaks built into the day – Not as a reward or punishment, just regular breaks where Adrián and Guillermo can regulate

    ✓ A quiet space option – A corner of the library or resource room where he can go if his backpack is getting too full. They have one in the classroom, all the kids use it.

    ✓ Reduced expectations for eye contact and “looking interested” – Letting him stim, letting him look away while listening, trusting that he’s still engaged

    ✓ Heads up about changes – Advance notice when possible about schedule changes, substitute teachers, fire drills

    ✓ Understanding after-school needs – His teacher doesn’t pile on homework or expect lengthy parent communications at pickup. She gets it…

    Not all teachers understand this immediately. But starting the conversation, explaining the invisible backpack metaphor, has opened doors to many parents……

    The Guilt I Had to Let Go Of

    For years, I felt guilty about those after-school meltdowns.

    What am I doing wrong? Why can’t I make coming home easier? Other kids don’t do this..

    But here’s what I finally understood: Adrián having a meltdown at home isn’t a sign of failure. It’s a sign of trust.

    He feels safe enough with us to let down his mask, to release the weight, to be vulnerable… same with Guillermo.

    That’s not something to fix. That’s something to honor.

    My job isn’t to prevent them from ever having a full backpack. My job is to help my sons unpack their own backpacks safely.

    For Guille’s Future

    At 5, Guille is just beginning to navigate the world with his invisible backpack.

    We’re starting early with:

    • Creating mask-free zones at home where he never has to hide who he is

    • Teaching him words for his feelings as they emerge

    • Modeling unpacking our own “backpacks” (yes, I have one too as an autistic adult)

    • Building in regulation time as part of the routine, not as a response to crisis……

    The goal isn’t to eliminate the backpack. The world will always add stones to it. That’s reality.

    The goal is teaching him to recognize when it’s getting heavy and giving him tools to unpack it before it overflows.

    Resources That Have Helped Us

    If you’re realizing your child has been carrying an invisible backpack and you want to support them better, here’s what has genuinely helped our family:

    📚 Autism: My Invisible Backpack – This is the book Luis and I wrote specifically about this concept. It explains masking, emotional overload, hyper-empathy, and the invisible load autistic kids carry, told through Adrián and Guillermo’s perspective……

    📚 Autism: Calming the Chaos – Helps kids and parents understand what happens when the backpack gets too full and overflows into a meltdown……

    And we’ve created FREE downloadable resources including:

    • Invisible Backpack visual chart

    • Emotion identification cards

    • After-school routine templates

    • Mask-free zone planning guide…

    That 5:00 PM pickup doesn’t scare me anymore……

    I no longer worry when Adrián walks out of school looking exhausted. I no longer panic when he immediately retreats to his room. I no longer feel guilty about the evening meltdowns.

    Because I understand what his invisible backpack is carrying. And I know how to help him unpack it.

    Your child is carrying weight you can’t see. But once you understand it’s there, everything changes.

    You stop seeing behavior problems and start seeing a child who needs support.

    You stop feeling like you’re failing and start feeling like you’re finally seeing clearly.

    And your child? They feel less alone carrying that weight.

    With understanding and solidarity,
    Dalisse (& Luis)
    Loving Pieces Books

    💙 Does your child carry an invisible backpack? What signs do you see? Share with our community, we’re all learning together. Find us on Instagram @lovingpiecesbooks or explore more resources at lovingpiecesbooks.com.