03/20/2026
Why does And Everything Nice donate a portion of proceeds to fund autism research? Take a few minutes to read the story below to find out why this cause is near and dear to our hearts.
A blonde haired, blue eyed little girl came into this world on a Sunday afternoon, the weather uncharacteristically warm for late October in Indiana. She was whisked away shortly after birth and seemed to have the odds stacked against her from the beginning; born out of wedlock to parents who were just kids themselves. Truly, from the moment she breathed her first breath, her medical problems began.
“Sooo, your baby, like, stopped breathing like… four times and turned blue so she’s in the NICU…the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, ya know? And you can probably go look at her but ya can’t hold her ‘cause her temperature is, like, way down so she’s on the warmer thing and she’s on oxygen and has a feeding tube and all that stuff.”
An intense feeling of fear, unlike any she had ever even known existed, washed over the mother. She wondered if her child would live and if there would be long-term complications, if so. Additionally, she wondered how a nurse so seemingly ignorant and unsympathetic was the chosen one tasked with breaking this kind of news to new parents. Then, she cried.
The little girl survived her rocky arrival into this world, but faced many challenges in her first few years of life. Feeding issues, special diets, repetitive video feeding studies, doctor’s appointments out of town with specialists, MRIs, endoscopies, speech therapies, occupational therapies, sign language, and many delays in reaching her developmental milestones. There were other struggles; ones less talked about, possibly out of sheer terror on the mother’s part that there may be something “different” about her baby. “Why won’t she look at me?” “Why can’t I soothe her when she is crying?” “I am her mother… why does she seem so disconnected from me?” “What am I doing wrong?” Of course others tried to gently tell her. This young woman’s own mother, a special education teacher with her master’s degree, explained the lack of facial expressions, inability to maintain eye contact, and frequent rocking amongst other self-soothing behaviors were all signs of autism. It seemed absurd to the young woman. Her child didn’t have autism. But yet, she cried.
Throughout the years, the mama continued to cry. She cried at the grocery store when strangers would witness one of her daughter’s many autistic meltdowns. These meltdowns were brought on by the complete and utter overstimulation a setting like a grocery store could trigger and were completely out of the little girl’s control. However, they were almost always mistaken for temper tantrums by strangers, who would often stare and sometimes make nasty comments to the mother about her parenting abilities and her child’s poor behavior. The mother cried at the park, watching other children make new friends and cheerfully play together, while her daughter would become visibly uncomfortable and run away if another child even attempted to have a conversation with her. She cried when the evaluations and assessments deemed it necessary for her daughter to attend a preschool for students with special needs. She cried when other children began to leave her daughter out. She cried when small changes in routines led to inconsolable meltdowns; meltdowns that sometimes resulted in nosebleeds from headbutts while trying to safely restrain her daughter during these bouts of “autistic hysterical strength.”
As she grew, the little girl continued to struggle medically, as well as socially. She did not speak in public; not at school, not at church, not at the doctor’s office or shopping mall. She only spoke in the privacy of her own home or the homes of close family members. Manners were a big deal to the little girl's mama. Frequently, she became frustrated with what she felt was her daughter’s “refusal” to speak, due to extreme shyness. One day, after returning home from a trip to the store, overwhelmed and running on empty as a single mother to three small children, the mother had a meltdown of her own. Embarrassed over her daughter’s “refusal” to acknowledge and thank a stranger for a compliment, she harshly asked the young girl why she would speak at home but refused to do so in public. Her child, gaze fixated toward the ground, whispered very softly, “Mommy… I can’t. I try to talk when people talk to me but nothing comes out. It’s not that I won’t. It’s that I can’t.” Again, her mama cried, this time out of guilt over her own sheer ignorance regarding the struggles her child was facing.
When the little girl was eight years old, they received an official diagnosis: high functioning autism with selective mutism and extreme social anxiety. Then the real work began… the advocating, the individualized education plans, butting heads with educators who chose not to to follow said plans, geneticists, psychiatrists, “sibling acceptance” therapy for her brother and sister, research and literature and endless web searches to learn how to give this child the best life possible when the cards continued to be stacked against her.
Then, in the fourth grade, the little girl had an educator with whom she connected. “Mom, Miss Robins likes cats.” she announced on the first day after arriving home from school. “Good, maybe she’ll talk to her,” her mother thought, as she stared around her daughter’s room, decked out in all things feline. Part of autism meant fixating on specific things, almost to a point of obsession. At that point in time, the little girl was engrossed in anything related to cats and oddly enough… Lady Gaga. That year, she did begin to speak in the classroom. The teacher helped bring the little girl out of her silent shell. Soon, she was responding, albeit uncomfortably, to others in public. She became close friends with a classmate that year, as well… and her mama cried; happy tears now- tears of relief and tears of pride.
With the help of applied behavioral analysis therapy for autism, advocacy agencies and the literature and learning material they provided, along with a bull dog of a mother who fought for her daughter to thrive, this little girl flourished. When she was invited to her first sleepover, her mama cried. When she got her driver’s license, her mama cried. When she got a job, WORKING WITH THE PUBLIC, of course her mama cried. The little girl, who was physically unable to ask her second grade teacher to use the restroom or go to the nurse’s office when she was sick, was now looking into the faces of strangers and carrying on conversations with them on a daily basis, even keeping her cool when they were rude and nasty.
Today, this little girl has grown into a young woman, who stands up for herself and for what she believes in. She participates in classroom discussions. She is empathetic, loving, and considerate. She attends social events at her high school. She giggles with her girlfriends. She goes on dates. She is quick-witted and hilarious. She is ranked eighth academically in her entire senior class. She volunteers as a preschool teacher at her church. She babysits her younger siblings. She holds two jobs, while doing all of this. Her mother considers her a close friend and enjoys confiding in her.
The perseverance, the battles fought and won along the way, and all of these personal victories are true testaments to ways individuals on the autism spectrum may thrive, thanks to the advancements in autism research. However, her story does not end there. Not only did this little girl beat the odds, she completely annihilated them. You see, this success story is not only why And Everything Nice donates a portion of their proceeds to autism research. The little girl in the story, along with her siblings, is why this company was started, in the first place. This little girl is mine. The crying mama is me. Running this business from home has provided me with the opportunity to be present and advocate for my children’s medical and educational needs while earning an income.
Recently, my little girl sat through hours of face to face interviews, after she was chosen as one of seventy-something finalists for the Saint Mother Theodore Guerin Scholarship at Saint Mary of the Woods College. This scholarship is the College’s highest award for academic excellence, service, and faith. Yesterday, we were notified that she was chosen as one of the ten recipients for this prestigious award. Combined with her other academic scholarships she has already been granted, she will receive a full ride to SMWC, where she will begin school in the fall, as a pre-vet major. My baby, who once struggled with communication to the point it caused her physical pain and anguish, confidently sat in front of a panel of strangers, looked them in the eyes, and communicated so efficiently that she scored high enough on her interview to be chosen as a recipient of this scholarship. This means she performed better than sixty-something peers who also interviewed, who did not face the adversities she faced all along the way. My tears of frustration and confusion have long ago been replaced with tears of sheer joy and pride. This little girl will, undoubtedly, continue to conquer the world… and as she does, her mama will continue to be her biggest advocate and also, undoubtedly, will continue to cry.
