(Note: This was originally published in the November, 2023 DFWChild.com Special Needs Newsletter.)
I won’t lie: the chance to write this bimonthly newsletter gives me a little confidence boost.
It isn’t because I think my words are particularly fabulous, but recognition is rare in my two day jobs of motherhood and teaching. Seeing my name and photo on a byline feels pretty great.
I showed my previous newsletter to my ten year-old daughter. My hope? She would feel proud of me.
And I’m sure she did.
But she skimmed it for a few seconds and then sighed.
“You never write anything about me,” she muttered sadly.
My heart sank, and it wasn’t because she didn’t praise my work. I was gutted because, as hard as I try to avoid it, I know she feels slighted compared to her older special needs brother. He’s almost five years older than her but requires our near-constant attention. His needs make the most routine family outings extraordinarily complicated, and special outings almost impossible. When his challenging behaviors escalate, my husband and I both must intervene – and she must retreat. I imagine that more often than not, though she has a brother, she feels like an only child, but without the attention. Our “normal” is anything but, which feels particularly true with the holidays coming. I sometimes say that everything in our lives requires an asterisk.
Thursday, November 23 – Family Dinner*
*Take two cars in case L is over-stimulated/has behaviors
Thursday, December 6 – Christmas Parade*
*TBD… can we get a sitter for L?
Monday, December 25 – Christmas Morning – Open Presents*
*Unless L decides to open his – and everyone else’s – days beforehand. Prepare for magic… or misery
If you have a typically-developing child or children, I’m sure you get it.
The holiday season are chaotic enough without having to make one set of plans for my daughter, whose enthusiasm rivals that of Buddy the Elf, and another for my son for whom everything extra and “fun” just leads to anger about a disrupted routine. She compromises so often, and mostly without complaint. But I know it takes a toll on her – and I want to do everything I can to be sure she knows she is seen, valued, and loved.
As we begin a month known for gratitude, I want to focus on my girl and siblings like her.
I am so thankful for my autistic son’s amazing little sister.
I am grateful for the child whose strength rivals that of adults three-or-more times her age.
I am humbled by the selflessness she shows when she has every reason to spend her days furious.
I am in awe of her wisdom that surpasses her years.
I am eager to see what kind of world-changer she will be because of the insights she gains about what it’s like for those who are differently-abled.
And most of all, I am committed to making every effort to celebrate what makes her special. In a season known for gifts, she is one of the very best I’ve ever received.
