MSI Press Blog

  Today's publisher's pride is  Andrew's Awesome Adventures with His ADHD Brain   by Kristin and Andrew Wilcox, which reached #151 in attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. From Amazon: Customers find the book provides brilliant insight into inattentive ADHD, with one customer noting it's a wonderful informative read for children with the condition. The book is easy to read and customers consider it a must-read. They appreciate its pacing, with one customer mentioning it's perfect for both parents and teachers. Book description: In this two-part book Andrew and his neuroscientist mom each tell their story about living with the inattentive subtype of ADHD. How do you survive life and middle school with an ADHD elephant in your brain? Kids with ADHD will relate to Andrew's reactions to everyday and school-related situations, like remembering to turn in homework, staying organized, and making friends. Using practical strategies Andrew learns to manage his A...

  Parenting one neurodiverse child changes how you see the world. Parenting several rewrites it entirely. Each child brings a different rhythm — one thrives on structure, another resists it; one needs quiet, another needs motion; one processes emotion through words, another through silence. The parent becomes translator, conductor, and advocate all at once, trying to build harmony from overlapping melodies. It’s not chaos; it’s complexity. And complexity can be beautiful when understood. The daily reality Families with multiple neurodiverse children live in constant adaptation. Schedules bend around therapies, sensory needs, and energy levels. Communication shifts between literal and abstract, verbal and visual. Emotions run high — empathy and exhaustion often share the same space. Systems that work for one child may unravel for another. The parent learns to hold contradictions: structure and flexibility, predictability and improvisation, calm and intensity. It’s a balancin...

  When Doah finally emerged from those first three dramatic years—doctors trying to gain custody so they could force procedures we knew were dangerous (and his pediatrician’s research confirmed it), stealing him out of the hospital to save him, coping with trachs and plugs and clinical deaths and daily CPR—we finally had a moment to look around and take stock. That winter, eleven other children with tracheotomies at that same hospital had died. Only two survived: Doah, because we fought for him, and Peter, an older child who had already lived with a trach for ten years. We knew, with a cold clarity, that if we had not been tenacious—if we had not researched, questioned, challenged, and sought alternatives—Doah would have been one of the eleven. And we wanted the hospital held responsible. We consulted a lawyer. He listened carefully, then leaned back and said something we did not expect: “A jury will struggle with the medical complexity. Doctors carry authority. They will be believ...