Mothering

• Read 2 chapters from Matilda to my daughter each night
• Plant seeds into containers with the children
• Go to the park at least once
• Email to confirm meeting with bio sibling this week
• Day with bio sibling
• My daughter’s friend over for dinner on Friday
• Take my daughter to an appointment
• Take my daughter to her summer dance class
• Take my son to medical appointments
• Take my son to his development program
• Re-arrange urologist appointment for my son
• Send new health card forms in
• Attend Family book club
• Sign my daughter up for her summer program
• Confirm subsidy with camp for both children
• Send package off to Godmother in the UK
• Family games night
• Visit community garden at least 3 times (0/3)
• Go for a walk outside the city
• Take the kids swimming
• Phone re: swimming lessons
• Homeschooling

Volunteer/W ork Related

• Send out emails for volunteer committee updates
• Confirm volunteer training sessions with participants
• Aim to attend a meeting Tuesday evening, if possible {depending on our family situation}
• Finish writing project
  Prepare presentations (4), write and deliver
• Host a meeting & review materials in advance
  Have another BIG meeting
• Figure out summer time off for work and get approved
• Find out when the next volunteer committee meets

Money/Tax

• Pay bills
• Email accountant
• Meet with accountant
• Submit claims at work
• Contact previous employer

1) Until you’ve walked in someone else’s shoes you can not know what their experience or life is like. Maybe one partner gave the other an ultimatum. Maybe they just knew they couldn’t meet their needs.  Maybe in that season of my children’s lives their behaviours were too too much. Maybe they were going to lose their jobs. Whatever the reason, and it is probably a combination of a few, I did not live their life and I don’t judge them.

2) There are many people whose choices have impacted on my children. But the reality is they didn’t abuse them/neglect them. They cared and had to make a tough decision that they weren’t in a place to parent them permanently. And no one plans/hopes/desires to let a child down. Also, they weren’t the “root” issue.

3) When I agreed to adopt my son, his long-term social workers said that they just wanted to give me the following advice to hold onto: not every child will be able to stay in a home environment permanently. I asked for some clarification and they said some children’s needs overwhelm any family and what they need is different to what a family can offer. I’ve thought long and hard about that and I do understand. I have friends who adopted a child who couldn’t stay in their home because he was violent towards them and their other children.  They are wonderful parents, good people, loving and kind. None of that was enough for a child with the challenges their son had. I read the blog of a wonderful gentle family who have several children included two they adopted. One of the children they adopted {a bio sibling of the other child in their home} they had to place for re-adoption.  His needs were significantly and negatively impacting on the other children in the home, in the end professionals said he needed to be the only child/youngest by at least 10 years. I also know of a family where the child had significant needs and in fits of rage broke his mum’s bones, broke walls and doors. None of these situations are about children/youth having a “bad day”, it was much more severe. Knowing these situations has helped me enormously to understand and not judge. {I also want to say biological families can be in the same situation, I have family friends whose oldest child had several mental health special needs, as he became violent he had to go to a special school which could deal with his needs because he was a threat to his mum and siblings. They were in the blessed position of being able to afford the special $50K a year fees and worked with this excellent school/mental health facility to get their son the help he needed, but the point is, he could not longer live at home.}

4) There is a lack of support available to adopters.  A program I was told will help my son by one of the social workers in his life, costs $50K a year for 4 sessions {I think 2 hrs} a week. It may have “great results” but that is SIGNIFICANTLY more than I bring home each year, let alone could pay for a service!

5) So few people would adopt older children with special needs {in particular mental health}, especially a sibling group and in my experience of knowing people who have had to make those choices, the people who judged them the most have never adopted older children with special needs, in fact they haven’t adopted themselves. Again, until you’ve walked in someone’s shoes, you can not fathom what their life is like.

Adoption is beautiful. Adoption is special. Adoption is just as fabulous a way to have children as birth. Adoption is a valid way to build a family. Adoption helps give kids in need a home. Adoption can mean you parent children that have no special needs. Adoption can mean that you parent children with significant special needs. Adoption helps give parents with empty hands, hands to hold. But adoption is complex. There is much you can’t control, there are so so so many risk factors. For my two lovelies, I couldn’t control:

• The drugs and alcohol they were exposed to {these have an effect on their behaviour, processing, understanding of cause and effect, language and memory}
• The lack of nutrition they experienced prenatally and for the first 8 and 7 years
• The genetics related to mental health {one of my son’s mental health conditions I’ve been told “beyond a shadow of a doubt” his genetic father must have had}
• The abuse/neglect/trauma they suffered
• The domestic violence they witnessed
• The lack of early intervention
• The lack of attachment

This means it is not just a diagnosis we are dealing with, but the “background” that is more vulnerable.  For example, two children could both have ADHD or ODD or be bi-polar,  the child who had backgrounds like my children did, will more likely have additional challenges compared to a child with the same diagnosis who had good prenatal care, wasn’t abused, had good attachments, didn’t experience violence etc. It isn’t an exact science, but it is more likely that they’ll have increased symptoms and other variables affecting them, this could mean that won’t respond as well to treatment and need more intense support.

Parenting has humbled me, which I’m so thankful for {and I hope it continues to humble me because I honestly have far to go}. There are no easy answers as a parent. None. {The other day I saw a mother crying in a shop because her toddler won’t stop biting, and I reached out to her. She cried and cried and said thank you. I told her the best thing she can do is be kind to herself, take care of herself and not judge herself. And that is a lesson I think all us mama’s need.} The parenting road is even more challenging {though still joyful} when your child(ren) have special needs which have a profound effect on how they function and relate to the world.  I’m sooooooooo thankful to be their mum, but I also know my son’s needs effect every day of our lives together. I’m thankful for all the encouragement I receive, the excellent professionals in our lives and the learning I’m doing, both of which help me be the mama he and his sister needs! And today that includes spending some time playing his favourite game as a family, soccer and for his sister we will be doing some cuddling and reading of “Matilda”.  We are blessed indeed!

Happy Sunday!

Are there any more questions?

We completed the 30 minutes a day for 30 day nature challenge in the month of May. It was part of the David Suzuki Foundation’s campaign to get people healthier. And for our family it worked. I think , despite the fact I love my children to be outside as much as possible, we hike most weekends and walk to almost all of our activities, I still use shortcuts – drive to swimming lessons instead of making the time to walk 45 minutes each way and of course, it feels like the lack of natural beauty on the doorstop we had in Devon, means I don’t have the ocean, rolling countryside and sheep ”calling my name” each day.

But in May we did accomplish a lot more time outdoors. The weather wasn’t too hot. The children were healthy. And what I found was there was a good mix of urban functional walking (aka we made the time to fit walking into each day because we were taking part in a challenge) with making a concerted effort a couple of times each week to leave the city {or going to the few of the more vast areas of green space within our city} and really be outdoors.

Now that June is here, it has been more challenging – May and June are my manic months at work and that coupled with the heat and some of my son’s needs, have made it harder. But this weekend I made a list of 10 main priorities and on there was leave the city for a walk in nature, so we’ll be doing that.

Today on CBC’s Ontario Today, a caller rang in to speak to our new Premier, Kathleen Wynne. The caller shared that she and her partner adopted an older child from CAS several years ago and sadly, in order to get her the mental health services she desperately needed that are $$$$, they had to place her back in foster care. As this mama struggled to hold back her tears, I shook my head, because you see, I understand, the reality is most of our children come with significant gaps/risks and needs. Often they’ve been exposed to drugs and alcohol in utero, they’ve seen violence, they have birth parents with mental health challenges, they’ve experienced abuse, been neglected and had so many homes (mine I believe have had 9 and 14 homes respectively). And I’m going to lay out here for the world to know, generally speaking, what this means is there is a lot to heal from and some healing that may never take place. My son can’t do simple sequence games like: clap your hands two times and then snap your fingers. His Occupational Therapist says it is from extreme neglect that one sees with kids that were raised in 1 room in an orphanage. And it is unlikely his brain will ever map/sequence properly. As a result from the severe trauma and neglect, as well as the things they were exposed to, my children are behind with their fine and gross motor skills, speech, language, executive functioning, education, cognitive functioning, and reasoning. In my daughter’s case she is developmentally around 2-3 years behind and in my son’s case, he is about 4-6 years behind.  It sounds from this caller, that their child struggled too.

How is it that we can understand foster parents need so much support in order for placements of older children with special needs to continue, yet as soon as the child is adopted, the support ends? I don’t think people adopt older children with special needs to have access to things like birthday party funds or an actual payment to parent {at least I certainly don’t} but our children often have experiences that mean they need special help, maybe for life. They need access to support services because they’ve been hurt badly by people and systems. Many need counselling, therapies and medical professionals in their lives, they need them while in care and when they leave care to yet another home, a home where they’ll have to get used to new parents {again}, new rules, routines and expectations.  And then of course there are also birth families dealing with many of these challenges too. Maybe they don’t have the drugs and alcohol, or the neglect, abuse and trauma, but their children have a diagnosis {or two or three!} where they need access to special support, where they don’t fit in at school, where they need professionals in their lives.

In a rich nation like ours, it is criminal that to be able to afford counselling for your child, or a safe place for them when in crisis, that you have to give up your parental rights. There is no logic in this. It will cost the government MORE money because then not only are they paying for psychologists and behavioural experts, they are also paying for foster parents. Why not support all families by giving access to services needed? Why not say instead of paying a specialized foster parent $3500/month per child and paying for services, we’ll help families to keep their children and give grants FOR services which are a fraction of the cost compared to a child coming back into care.

As I listened to this woman’s story, I felt no judgement, only incredible empathy and sadness for her. Because until I’ve walked in her shoes, I can’t imagine the torment she is in. I wanted to hug her and tell her how brave she was. I wanted to confirm she was still her child’s mother and she in so many ways made the ultimate sacrifice. But I also wanted to tell the Premier, that this crime can not continue to exist, safe and loving families deserve to be together. They need access to support. Mental health services need to provide free at point of entry crisis AND prevention programs. There shouldn’t be months long waiting lists. Families need to stay together or our children will be even more vulnerabe and that vulnerability will translate to chaos in the adult years. Chaos the state will pay for.

One of my big concerns for my children is that they’ll enter into abusive or toxic relationships. They have lived through domestic abuse prior to adoption and prior to adoption had some very significant attachment problems which meant they looked for attention in the wrong places. In my own family, a close family member  has some real toxic tendencies, she struggles to accept anyone’s voice is right but her own, she believes there is one way to do everything, she will not let go of a topic until she has worn you down. I realize part of teaching my children about healthy relationships, the negotiating that needs to happen in all relationships and advocating for themselves (& others), will only happen if they see me not only advocate for others but for ourselves too. And there is where I wasn’t doing so well.

In addition to that, though I don’t really have time to read blogs now, I did happen on an article about a major blogger who wouldn’t talk about a topic for fear of being judged. And then I read on another blog a quote that spoke to me and the soft voice inside me said “be brave, accept and embrace your own choices, do not fear judgement”. Because in all honesty, if you feared judgement, you’d never do the right thing. So tonight I’m going to tell you about a decision I made that was the right choice, though I wish it could have been different, and how I let fear of judgement stop me from moving forward…

When the children arrived, there was a lovely little dog in our home. And that dog is no longer in our home because sadly, she had to be rehomed. Yes, me, the pet lover, who was the child who brought stray animals home almost weekly, nursing them to good health, had to rehome a pet.

She wasn’t rehomed because she was hard work, or without a great deal of thought, tears and sleepless nights…she was rehomed because she became a very aggressive dog with the children and was biting them. She began going for them every chance she got. Charging and trying to get to their faces. If they moved at night she would lash out and closing their bedroom doors made her howl all night. And despite working with her vet, the free animal behaviourist through the rescue group she was adopted from and a volunteer specializing in this, nothing worked. In the end, they all came to the same (rare) conclusion, in the best interest of everyone and to prevent the dog from needing to be put down, she needed to be rehomed. It was actually to the point the Vet would have reported her behaviour had I not consented, it was really that bad.  I felt awful for her, so worried she’d never find a home and sad that she would most likely be scared and thinking she’d come home. But I also saw that it simply wasn’t possible to continue. I knew the worst outcome was another bite and her being put down, but this was there was still the possibility of help for her and a home that was right.

In the end she had a special rehab for 5 months through the rescue group and then they found a home where not only were there no children but there would not be any children who were visitors. The last I heard she was doing “well, but it is a long road”.  And I wasn’t sure whether to be happy or sad, so I was a bit of both…

I lost a friend and a dog. And then I lost a human friend too. A friend who is a real animal lover, which is one of the reasons I adored her, but a friend for whom my actions weren’t OK. She felt if the Vet reported her for biting I should go on the run. I explained with two new children that wasn’t exactly possible and well, you know there would still be the issue of the dog attacking them. She refused to listen, she said she felt all three are equal, or truth be told, the dog’s needs should come first. I told her I knew this was so hard but my children have to come first. And she told me in her belief system animals are more important than humans and our friendship wouldn’t continue. And then she stopped contacting me, or returning any calls.

At the time I wanted to shrink into a shell like a tortoise. I felt guilt, shame and sadness. I felt bad and selfish. Even when I knew it was a horrible decision and was made not in isolation and in so many ways my hands were now forced because her behaviour was so extreme, I was wrong and my friend was right.

Today, yes time has passed but each time I read about a major dog bite and a child being hospitalized, I breathe a sigh of relief about my decision. And here is the acceptance and embracing: I made the right decision.  I own my choice. It was hard, but it was the only decision that could be made. And no matter what judgement I did receive then, it still is the only decision that could be made in our circumstances in that season.

Here’s the thing about judgement, it doesn’t actually change the circumstances you are in. It doesn’t support you, or love you, or change your circumstances enough that you can have a different outcome. Instead it either, through coercion, makes you accept something that isn’t right, forces you into something that isn’t good for you, or leaves you with torment. Well I refuse for anyone else to be put in that position, which means I need to refuse to be put into that position myself.

And so today when the lady at the market said that to me, I didn’t crumble like I would have a few months ago, instead I felt happy she had something she was advocating for, but also worried that she thought one system/decision/choice could be right for everyone. Maybe at her young and tender age (mid 20′s), she hadn’t yet realized it is OK for us all to be different and for us to have different needs in different seasons, but I hope she finds a way to acquire this knowledge so that she goes easy on herself when she doesn’t fit a mould.  That day will come. And she’ll be judged and I want for her to be able to see the beauty in being brave, accepting and embracing her own choices and  not being in torment.

So today I admitted it here in this space. Maybe someone will judge me. And months ago, that would have left me very upset. Today, I know first hand you can’t know what a situation is like until you’ve been in it, we are all doing the best we can in the circumstances we are in and judgement or not, it was the right and only choice.

Now my children don’t cower when they see a dog.

And now I’m hitting publish before I second-guess (or edit!) what I know to be the right decision. Why? Because someone out there is being judged for something and not listening to their inner voice and I hope by reading this you see you are worth listening to.

Lately I’ve been speaking more and more about some of the challenges navigating life has when you have adopted children with special needs, particularly related to mental health. My children bring me and everyone in our lives great joy, daily laughter and fun, but neither I nor any medical team in the world can erase significant detriment prenatally and years of neglect, abuse and trauma. I can love and help heal, but there is and most likely will always continue to be a few extra layers.

I often get asked how I manage to do it all as a single parent. Raise two children with significant special needs, work full-time, home educate without expensive curriculum to help {aka I write it all myself except for one subject}, cope with the sheer number of appointments and therapies, advocate for them, take care of our home and pets, help the children catch up by doing daily therapies at home like occupational therapy and physio, make all our food from scratch, grow as much of our fruit and veg as possible and volunteer weekly without a partner, aunts/uncles/cousins, childcare support, cleaning help, a financial “buffer’ and well, day-to-day support. I won’t lie, there are times it takes all my reserves and then some. There are days like yesterday where I would have loved to order in dinner and sit when all is calm with my partner over a glass of wine and just be reminded and affirmed, there are days when I’d love to know we are facing tomorrow, together.

But the truth is, the real truth is, we’ve made a little community. Since starting this incredible path I’ve been committed to having good, loving people in our lives who’ll be there 5, 10 and 20 years from now, who aren’t fair-weather friends we just meet for parties or fun, but people who love us deeply and we love passionately in return. There’s the couple my children think hung the moon who’ve paid for swim lessons for them, often just bring me a cup of coffee on the hard days and have made meals for us when things are tough. They’ve baby-sat when I needed the doctor, and my daughter stayed there when my son was hospitalized, they share every birthday and holidays with us.  They cheered my daughter on at her triathlon and never stop encouraging us as a family. There’s my children’s godparents who sent me off for a surprise massage while they baby-sat, who include us in family things and events, who have baby-sat when I’m in a pickle and who love my children. There’s their other godmother, a friend of mine from University who has baby-sat for my work functions, who will meet me after work so I can visit the Dr and she can watch the kids at the cafe next door. She’s let me cry down the phone to her when things are too tough. There’s my closest friend from the UK who calls every weekend, prays for us and lets me have a grown up to speak too.  There’s a good new friend here who while leads a very different life to us, sends supportive texts, lets me know when I need time away and just helps me recognize myself as an adult. Then there is my mum who while very different in her style does continue to help when needed and in an emergency is there and will bless us with the type of gifts she loves – paper towel {my “no-paper” rule grates her } and washing up liquid. And honestly, what more could I ask for.  Do I have daily or weekly breaks? Of course not. I’m a single mum with a very very limited budget with two children with special needs, one of whom has needs that are profound.  But I wake up on days like today feeling so very very very blessed by the community we have.

And more importantly, my children are also learning what it means to give to others in our community too. They see it when we drove out to collect the couple who hung the moon when their car broke down away from home, when we make bread each week we make an extra loaf and give to someone we love. We share our harvest. We make art and cards to celebrate our friend’s achievements:  new jobs, new homes, important charity runs completed, thanks you’s, as sometimes “just because your special”. We pet sit and help friend’s do an IV procedure on their pet. We’ve grocery shopped for a friend with a broken leg and dropped our own weekend plans when one of their honorary aunties had her heart broken. The truth is, it is a drop in the bucket compared to what our community does for us. But it is important, even though we recieve far more than we give, that we all continue to give everything we can.

Days like today I awake and just feel overwhelmed with love. Love of others. Love of God. Love of nature. Love of life. We needed a bridge I couldn’t build on my own and somehow, these amazing people, have given us that gift. I’m no supermom, I just have loving hands in the background both encouraging me and holding me when I fall.

{Please remember if you are reading this and don’t have a community, don’t feel bad, it isn’t you. I was there for years. I had friends but no sense anyone had a vested interest in our lives. I prayed for years about it and somehow through my two darlings, it came and is stronger than I could have hoped for. Keep the faith.}

The very day of the neighbourhood party, my son woke up with severe opposition. Instead of getting dressed he crawled on the floor. Instead of going to the bathroom he played with the door. Instead of morning chores he went back to bed and refused to get out. I followed all recommended advice which usually helps, to no avail. Before long he was having a mild breakdown. Stomping on the floor, throwing things, screaming at the top of his lungs, jumping and repeating the same thing over and over again. I tried to help him as best I could, doing things we’d agreed together I’d do if he was struggling like reminding him to breathe, reassuring him that I loved him, counting quietly, to no avail. His behaviour spiraled downwards fast and didn’t end in a pretty place. I had made the decision weeks ago that we wouldn’t attend the party, I knew it was too much for him. He’d likely have fun, but afterwards he’d be in a dark place. So much sensory overload + new people + an evening event + children he can’t play with because of his delays would all just leave him in a vulnerable place. My daughter still struggles with crowds and as I have to balance both their needs, I decided we’d skip this one.

Sadly as my son spent several hours before the party began raging and tantruming, we couldn’t get to an appointment on time which means we weren’t back until after all the streets were closed. I stayed out for as long as we could {not good for his mental health} to avoid having to walk through the party to return home. He was finally calm and settled, and exhausted and truth be told his sister and I were too. We needed quiet and sleep. I know it seemed strange to the neighbours that we didn’t join in. There were some looks, some nice comments reminding us we are most welcome {we are the new ones and they try to include us which is very kind} and one comment about why on earth we wouldn’t attend. But you see, however typical it is that most families can attend things like this, mine can’t. My son has autistic like behaviours, he can’t cope with stimulation and our family had already been to hell and back that very afternoon.  It wasn’t about being antisocial it was about meeting my own children’s needs. And so we came home, cuddled, read some books and slept.  And it was just what we all needed.

Parenting children with complex multiple special needs is teaching me that your parenting journey is quite different. All children are unique and many don’t follow the curve that experts say they should. But having a child who when stressed will pull his hair out or bang his head repeatedly means you had to limit, where you can, the type of stressors he is exposed to. It means life isn’t as simple as taking a comfy chair onto the driveway and chatting to neighbours while your kids play. Not when a just turning 9-year-old really is more like a 2-year-old and will need help to integrate. And not when that same lovely boy will be in a bad place after such “fun”.

To some we may seem weird. Not to those that know us, they know we have challenges and they accept and embrace them, including us and making as many modifications as they can. But to the rest of the world we may be that anti-social, stick to themselves family. And you know, I’d rather be seen as that then put my child in a situation where he isn’t safe.  Yes, my parenting path is so different to the norm, but it is just as joyful. And maybe one day a party like that will work for our family; whether it does or doesn’t, we are also fine, just the way we are {though I’d do anything for my wee boy not to struggle so much!}.

I was among one of the lucky ones. I was able to get a full-time job with benefits, but to do so took a pay cut, a step down professionally and faced a longer commute which was more costly. I often fear where our family would be had I not been able to find this job, what would I do when a child got sick? When they needed to go to the dentist? When someone needed an eye exam? Or when my children’s four daily medications needed refilling? I’m really not sure. I was lucky enough to be in my new employment 3.5 months before I took custody of my daughter and that let me sleep at night.

What I know is that precarious employment makes people and families vulnerable. I’ve worked with families long enough to know people end up having to choose between food, or giving their children have antibiotics they need. It means that people sometimes leave their children home alone because they are sick and can’t afford childcare. It means that people live with poorer mental health and more family pressure. People can’t get mortgages, people can’t expand their families, people can’t care for loved ones because they can’t take a day off work, people get sick because of exhaustion, people have options taken away.  People are left choosing between options that aren’t really choices. No one should cut back on food to make way for medication.

I think our system is set up for what employment was, not what it is. Most people don’t have jobs that last for 25, 35 or 45 years, hardly any jobs now come with good retirement and benefit packages. Employment is more fluid and the laws need to keep up. People, whether you work 25 hours a week or you work a contract need to have access to the same benefits full-time workers, non-contract have. People, all people need sick time, paid vacation, days for family responsibilities, support with childcare or medical costs and the option of paying into retirement. In public health circles we say that $1 on prevention saves $3 for the cure. I’m quite certain from my own experience and what I’ve witnessed, the same can be said about your working situation. Maybe it is time for employers to value people and the government to not allow people to be taken advantage of.  Maybe demonstrating to people they matter and respecting their needs, will save money because more people will be able to be employed and stay employed – not burned out, not on disability, not poor in retirement needing government assistance but instead having a working life paying taxes and contributing. And maybe their kids won’t have to skip meals because they had the misfortune of getting a chest infection.

I think much of how you are raised stays with you, sometimes in the back closet of your heart and the door opens when you least expect it. My upbringing I am sure was what was what was right & possible {we are all human!} for my parents in that season of their lives. But I’ve known for a very long time, that that style of upbringing wasn’t right for my children and therefore, it wasn’t right for me. And yet, and yet, it creeps in. I begin to see the “best days” as the days they had the highest level of accomplishment – their work done quickly and to their best ability and I would begin to hear my mother’s responses instead of my own!  I was getting stressed by where they should be, instead of just embracing exactly where they are. I began to focus on improvements and the challenges rather than root/heart issues, both theirs AND mine. In honesty, while they have backgrounds which mean there is a constant two steps forward, one step back, as big of a challenge was my own attitude, my own desire to leave their struggles behind and just have us not have to deal with an issue more than once, or twice, or heck even one hundred times.

When you have children who are developmentally a very different age to their chronological age, yet they look typically developing, not only does society expect something of them, but in my case I did too. My son, my delightful little redhead boy, is emotionally and socially 5 or so years younger than he is. He is perfectly content to sit on Mummy’s lap and read toddler books, he loves to do pre-school and kindergarten activities and one of his greatest joys is rhyming. Children in Grade 2/3 have nothing in common with my son. And when I see what he is capable of, I was struggling to accept that there may be a significant lag between what he can technically do, and where he really needs to be for his own mental health. I was forgetting to accept that maybe he needs that time to play with toddler blocks and maybe despite the fact he can actually work to a Grade 2 level with things like math, the reality is, in most ways he is a little toddler. He doesn’t mind that he wets himself, he doesn’t feel that he should be like other kids his age, he just wants to have fun and be himself. And you know, I no longer was having fun or being my true self. And then the pruning started. I began to be aware some of when he struggled was because of expectations I was placing on him. Expectations that may be perfectly good for a typically developing 6, 7, 8 or 9 year old, but not for my little boy. And then this week I arrived home to a sleepy little one, and he ran to me arms up in his dinosaur pajamas and said “Mummy, my Mummy, I love you” and a great big cut of the scissors hit the branch in my heart that said “make him be nine” and instead what was revealed was the better branches: acceptance, love, kindness, compassion and renewed committment. And then there was that lovely rose, faith. Faith that it doesn’t actually matter if today he acts like a 9-year-old or not, we will be fine, together forever with a whole lot of help from a power greater than mine.

It’s a funny juxtaposition, this parenting children with special needs. On the one hand you need to help them achieve what they can, especially when they lack confidence and live in a world that is constantly telling them they aren’t able, but you also have to accept, really accept, that maybe their lives will continue to always be different. Our social worker said to me the other day that she imagines my daughter {who has less special needs (though still has them) and despite the fact there is only a year between them is years ahead over her brother} may always need to live close to me and need some added support. And I thought about that for a moment gone was the “but she needs to be independent” and instead, after the pruning, I felt “well, what a blessing to have my daughter close”. And I meant it, I really meant it.

Over the next month or so they’ll be having more tests. Many of these tests will say where my children sit developmentally. For example, with speech and language tests, I may be told “your child is chronologically 9, however he/she is presenting at 5 years 2 months”. And I’m not going to let reading those words make me lose all I’ve learned with the great pruning of 2013. They are where they are and whether they get to “typical” or not, they’ll get to where they need to be for them, with plenty of love, encouragement and laughter along the way. I will not let comparisons steal our joy. I will continue to prune and redefine “best” into the beautiful definition it can be.