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 global, remains married, has intercourse, bakes gluten-free, is going broke, and retains her feel of humor.

"Dr. Spock? payment. Penelope Ann Leach (remember her?)? fee. what to anticipate while You’re looking ahead to? money. I had a 700 greenback Bellini crib for God’s sake! i used to be excellent. And so used to be Mia while 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 along with her impressive skill to put every little thing at the table—from relations, associates, 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 might support her daughters, she covers all of it. continuously outspoken, usually touching, and occasionally heartbreaking, Kim Stagliano is a robust 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 info for All I Can Handle: I'm No Mother Teresa: A Life Raising Three Daughters with Autism

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We were at his apartment in Brecksville, Ohio, a suburb just south of Cleveland. We weren’t in the living room. We weren’t in the kitchen. Or the bathroom, garage, or laundry room. Capisce? A girl wonders. Did he propose to me in the heat of the moment? Does he even remember? ” And that was that. Hardly the stuff of a Kodak moment. Lest you think Mark isn’t romantic—he did give me a beautiful engagement ring made from an oval diamond with two oval sapphires on either side. It was a traditional Boston three-stone ring.

Thud went my heart. How could he leave me? “It’s a quick plane ride away,” he explained. I sniffled and nodded. Now I was dating an unemployed thirty-two-year-old living in Cleveland, Ohio. This was definitely not on my Barbie dream house architectural plan. Mark went from being my rebound guy to the man I cared enough about to visit all the way in Cleveland freaking Ohio. I liked Ohio. Perhaps I just liked being far, far away from a lifetime of memories with David. Boston was rife with “remember whens,” and many of them were painful.

Mark and I have three children—it took quite a few more tries than three to produce them. We practiced for years, carefully preparing. I can write this chapter. I can. Here I go. Turn the page. HOWARD STERN EVERY DAY MARK AND I LIKE TO JOKE THAT, IN MANY WAYS, HE AND I HAVE reversed our X and Y chromosomes. For an Italian-Irish guy, Mark is enlightened, and almost always eager to pitch in and get a job done no matter whose “role” it is. This fluidity has served us well over the years in terms of who brings in the bacon, cares for the kids, cooks, cleans, and manages the ins and outs of a marriage and family.

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