It's like clockwork.

Whenever my eldest has an orchestra or band concert, I get sick. Usually it's a migraine, but I get those so often it's hard for me to count that as "being sick." It's more like, "grinning and bearing it." So it's the SPECIAL kind of migraine -- the one that makes me see wavy lights and smell strawberries I get before these concerts.

Or the flu. I've had the flu at least twice for his concerts.

So while the other parents are oohing and aahing over their performances, I'm trying not to vomit into my purse again. Not exactly my favorite way to spend an evening.

But last week, my son had his Winter Orchestra concert and, I'm telling you, it was a Christmas Miracle because I was feeling FINE.

Vaccines are an issue that incite plenty of debate and make me nervous as hell. I want to believe all the reassurances and studies that they're safe, but all of the contrary studies and information have led me to struggle and stress over every one my children have received. New information about microwave popcorn's power over vaccines makes me even more nervous.

What's microwave popcorn got to do with the whole debate? Well, a lot apparently, and it's terrifying.

Becky Jackson from GleeRemember when you were a kid, and the major network shows were just brimming with characters who represented the special needs community? What, you don't remember? Maybe that's because we've had to come a long way since Corky, the kid with Down syndrome on Life Goes On, represented television's biggest leap in character casting back in the '80s.

Twenty percent of Americans have some sort of disability, and television show producers are finally getting the hint.  While it's still a struggle for parents to find special needs kids represented on primetime -- by one estimate, only 1 percent of speaking roles go to an actor portraying some sort of disability -- they are out there. And you should be watching! Just take a look:

File this one under absolutely infuriating. A young teenager with autism and an IQ under 70 is being charged with felony battery in the State of Florida for beaning his speech therapist in the head with a set of headphones. Think fast, parents: if a child doesn't know they're doing something wrong, is it fair to discipline them?

It's a question young Conner Brown's legal troubles are forcing parents like me to consider. The 13-year-old's mom and other educators have said his acts were the result of his disorder, not something he could control. Like many children with autism, noise bothers Conner. He threw the headphones not at his therapist, his mom says, but to react to loud noises from another student. But now he's in serious legal trouble, and it seems flat out wrong.

It's a fear for every parent of a special needs child: what happens if you aren't there to speak for your child in an emergency situation? Will emergency responders understand your kid has a condition that requires special attention? Prepare for a surprisingly simple answer.

What if there was a registry you could add your child to, so emergency responders would know who they were dealing with? It's just what parents in one area of Canada have done for children on the autism spectrum. They voluntarily sign their child up to be on the list, and they say they're relieved that their kid's name is flagged if police are called out to respond to a situation.

I'm a sucker for cute kids. Who isn't, right? But a little girl named Maddox McClintic is more than just your everyday adorable toddler. The 2-year-old with Down syndrome is quickly becoming the best reminder to the world that special needs kids are more than their diagnosis.

A clever (and now viral) video made by Maddox's mom, Jamie, specifically to teach a lesson to people who call her little girl a mongoloid or retard is striking a nerve with the special needs community. Through the now popular YouTube trick of flashing cards at the screen, Jamie McClintic explains that everything people assume about her daughter is wrong.

What parent doesn't dream of the perfect morning before school? Mine would entail a little girl who climbs out of bed just as the alarm goes off, pulls on the clothes set out for her the night before without complaint, brushes her teeth, sits quietly while I run a brush through her hair, and gets to the bus with plenty of time to spare. Of course, we've never had one of those mornings in our house. We're more the "get to the bus by the skin of our teeth" family. No wonder the threat of a stint in jail for a mom in Michigan for her autistic son's frequent tardies is scaring the pants off of me.

If you've followed the Iowa caucus at all, you've heard names like Rick Santorum and Mitt Romney a few hundred times by now. But here's a name you probably haven't heard much: Sam Wessels. Write it down; he's our future. And he happens to have autism.

Which is what makes the fourth grader's ventures on the campaign trail with his mom so fascinating. Like Ari Garnick, the kid whose dad let him ask the candidates innocuous questions about superheroes, Wessels is actually talking about something HE cares about instead of parroting an adult's message. And his message can help hundreds of thousands of kids out there.