1st Draft
<p>Out of all the parenting books that exist, why should you read this one? why should you listen to me? Who am I to give out advice? I don't have a degree in psychology, or early childhood education (although my sister has a Masters Degree), and as I start writing this I've only been a parent for just under four months. But it's been an eventful four months.
I've grown a lot as a person, and the three kids that I've signed on to help raise have shown improvement in their behavior and cooperation. Two of the three kids are autism spectrum, the oldest just turned 7 last week, two boys with a girl in the middle. But more about them later in the book, right now we're talking about me. (and of course this has taken more than a year to write.)
 
I guess we'll start with a more vague question, but vital: why am I writing this? My psychiatrist said I should. As I tell her about the things that I do with the kids and for the kids, and their mom, she continuously praises my actions and ideas, and has noticed a real improvement in my life-outlook. So, she said I should share my experiences and philosophies, because it could help someone else understand special needs children and the responisibilities of a step-father.
 
So, who am I? Well, the obvious, as you can see on the cover, I'm Dan Williams. The details? I'm 33 years old (at time of starting this book, I was born in 1983); I grew up in a Baptist family (don't worry, this won't be overly religious); I was diagnosed ADD in 2nd Grade; I suffered major depression through junior high from struggling in school and being bullied; at the age of 18, I started having seizures; I've been out of regular work for over a decade because of the seizures.
So, there's a few cans of worms ripped open... (but I promise to keep it fairly short so we can get into the real reason for this book)
 
I grew up with parents that had grown up in church. My mom is a preacher's kid, the last of six. Her parents were foster parents for many Native American kids, as well. My dad's parents also grew up in church. When I was three, shortly after my sister was born, we moved from Ventura, California to the mountains above San Bernardino, to a Christian camp called Thousand Pines. We were there til the end of the 80s, and them moved to Humboldt County, in northern California.  There, I attended elementary school, I chose to repeat First Grade, and I became friends with the girl who has become my Love, and the mother of the children that I'm helping care for (yeah, a little storybook romance; details later). 
In Second Grade, I was diagnosed ADD, after showing signs of severely struggling to stay focused on a task, especially homework. It wasn't just "childhood misbehavior," but a serious struggle. This is one of the big reasons I'm writing this, I'm ADD, and mild autism spectrum, and so are the kids that I'm helping raise; however, they are ADHD, I was never hyper. This was of course the early 90s, when ADD was still looked on with skepticism and often over diagnosed; this made it even more of a struggle for me.
Just before the end of Sixth Grade, my family moved to Wisconsin, to an American Baptist conference center, and I began school (a K-12 with 375 total students) by making a fool of myself. I was socially awkward. Between that and the difficulty in concentrating on course work, and often not having my homework done, I was bullied severely. I was more than just teased, I was shoved into lockers, and stripped of clothing and urinated on in the PE locker room...When Columbine happened, the other kids decided that they should start treating me better so that I wouldn't snap like that...I assured them I never would, but it was nice to not be bullied. During Junior High, I seriously considered suicide, luckily never could; though I do still get ptsd flashbacks... 
In my Junior year of high school, we moved again, back to California, to the Central Coast, San Luis Obispo. And then Bush's No Child Left Behind hit, and the school had budget cuts. They changed from a 5-period trimester, to a 6-period semester, cutting three classes out of the year; the three classes I needed to be able to graduate due to course requirement differences between Wisconsin and California. I'll try to mostly avoid politics in this book, but I was one of the first "children" left behind by No Child Left Behind.
I took the California High School Proficiency Exam, and passed easily. 
I turned 18 in Spring of 2001, and tried to join the National Guard, that summer. The recruiter asked about medical history, I had to admit to having been on Ritalin through Seventh Grade, and he promptly turned me away. That October, I had my first seizure. Exactly what the recruiter was concerned about.
I started at a community college in the spring of '02, with the plan to major in physics, so I could teach high school. I had a really good teacher in Wisconsin, he graded on enthusiasm and what we physically showed we learned, instead of having tests and homework. I burned a few sponges with a large lens, and blew the school's main fuse so there was no power for two days and therefore no school; I got A's. I wanted to be a teacher like that. But due to seizure medication experiments, I couldn't stay awake in Pre-Calc; I couldn't do pre-calc in my head the way I could algebra. I changed to a photography major, and got involved in the student government and the school newspaper. I helped with the on-campus smoking regulations that allowed for designated smoking zones which became adopted policy by most of California's community colleges (though against smoking, I supported smoker's rights to have a place to smoke).
I struggled in college almost as much as I had in grade school. I had to repeat my English courses (D's the first time, B's the second time through each of the two classes required for graduation). I had to drop out of both attempts at Psychology, but I got a B while acing the final exam for Women's Health...as a guy, I can brag about that right? Especially because the final was the day of the Star Wars Episode 3 midnight premier, and we'd camped out at the theater playing video games the night before, and I took the final dressed as Darth Vader...no sleep, no studying, dressed as Vader, got nearly top score.
After hanging out at the community college for seven years, I decided it was time to sit and wait for Disability to go through...still waiting ten years later... My last steady job was a church office, with my mom as my direct supervisor, and the pastor said I was having too many seizures to continue working 3-4 hours a day 3 days a week, plus the occasional Sunday.
While in college I worked, among other jobs (fast food, grocery), at a gym's childcare center, as well as being in charge of my church's VBS pre-school play time. At least until my seizures started becoming daily events. So, there's my childcare experience! A few months at a gym childcare center, and one week a year for a few years doing VBS play time. So, back to why I feel I am worth listening to, everyone of the people that I worked with, and many of the parents of the kids thought I was amazing; it took me two minutes to get a biting three year old to never bite again, and I became the best friend of a Downs Syndrome boy whom had struggled to smile before. 
 
And after a year as a parent, I think I have a few ideas, though it will always be a learning experience, as any of you that are parents know full well. 
 
 
 
 
 
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