I grew up in a loving family, surrounded by sawdust and the occasional smashed thumb. My grandfather and father were both carpenters, so naturally, I spent my childhood learning how to build things—and how to avoid nails in my feet. Despite having ADHD, I adapted by turning every project into an adventure. Who needs blueprints when you have unshakable confidence and a roll of duct tape? Carpentry was my first love, but when the housing market crashed, I realized that “passion” doesn’t always pay the bills. So, like any responsible adult, I pivoted. I explored different fields, eventually landing in healthcare, where I got a front-row seat to some of life’s toughest moments. If carpentry taught me resilience, working in health insurance taught me patience—mostly while listening to hold music. But most importantly, it taught me the power of empathy and perspective.
Ah, Wesley. Our firstborn. The kid who turned us into first-time parents and gave us a crash course in paranoia. We handled him like fine china, terrified that if we sneezed too hard, he might break. As a handyman, I envisioned him growing up with a hammer in one hand and a tape measure in the other. Instead, at four years old, he was rocking Home Depot’s Saturday craft days like an absolute legend, collecting more pins than a five-star general.
We always knew Wesley was a bit different. We lovingly called him our 'labor of love' (which, in hindsight, should’ve been our first clue). It wasn’t until he was about ten that we got the real MVP diagnosis—ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder). If we’d known sooner, we could’ve accessed services that would’ve made a world of difference. Hindsight is 20/20, but parenting is like driving with a fogged-up windshield.
Enter Grayson. We thought we knew what we were doing. Spoiler alert: we didn’t. We were thrilled to give Wesley a sibling, and in the back of our minds, we hoped this one might be slightly more… chill. Turns out, parenting doesn’t take requests. Grayson was our crash course in early autism recognition. Unlike Wesley, we noticed he was missing developmental milestones—crawling, walking, talking. Having already navigated this road once, we skipped the “wait and see” phase and went full detective mode. Thanks to early intervention, we were able to get him the support he needed way ahead of the curve.
And then there was William. Our ‘pleasant surprise.’ The one who made sure sleep remained a distant memory. By this point, we were seasoned veterans—or so we thought. We noticed early signs that mirrored Grayson’s, and while part of us hoped we were just being paranoid, deep down, we knew better. But unlike the first two times, we were ready. William had two older brothers to chase after, and he wasted no time trying to keep up. He’s the family’s designated charmer—sweet, hilarious, and determined to turn every room into his personal racetrack. If Wesley is our analytical mind and Grayson is our creative soul, then William is our full-throttle, no-brakes, lovable chaos machine.
Let’s take a moment to recognize my wife—the CEO of our household. While I was off trying to bring in a paycheck, she was running a full-time circus. Appointments, therapies, school schedules—she handled it all with the grace of a seasoned diplomat and the patience of a saint. If our family were a movie, she’d be the main character, and I’d be the guy occasionally showing up for comic relief.
Raising three boys on the spectrum is like living in a tornado—unpredictable, messy, and oddly beautiful if you take a step back. Our kids have pushed us to limits we didn’t know existed, but they’ve also taught us about unconditional love in ways we never expected. They’re brilliant, hilarious, and unapologetically themselves.If only the world saw them the way we do—flawed, exceptional, and deserving of nothing less than total acceptance.
These experiences—every chaotic, exhausting, beautiful moment—shaped my perspective on autism and fueled my commitment to building a community that truly understands it. This is why Heart in the Spectrum exists—to celebrate differences, to foster acceptance, and to remind every parent navigating this journey that they’re not alone. Because at the end of the day, every child deserves to be seen, valued, and celebrated for exactly who they are. And if we can make the world a little better, one dad joke at a time, well—that’s just a bonus.
Heart in the Spectrum is recognized as a Tax Exempt Non-Profit under Internal Revenue Code (IRC) Section 501(c)(3). Registered with the IRS under EIN 98-7654321
