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Special Needs

Guest Posts, parenting, Special Needs

Touch Down

January 13, 2017
down

By Angela Dawson

Larry was making the most of his freedom.

After three hours cooped up and airborne, he relished the opportunity to stand on his own two tottering feet. My husband queued at the hire car counter; Larry wandered wherever he fancied. We took turns, his siblings and I, being his shadow. We held a hand, or let him roam free, always one step behind.

As I scurried after him, I caught sight of John and his mother. We’d met on the plane earlier. Inveterate travellers, they’d spent seven weeks in Australia at the start of the year. They’d feared the marathon flight—he gets terrible pain in his back if he sits too long—but being chair-crammed for twenty-four hours troubled him none.

Each year, they visit The White Isle to spend time with the mother’s cousin who, decades before, came for a spell, fell in love and married a native Ibicencan. After his death several years ago, a Brazilian captured her heart. The cousin and the Brazilian used to run a farm, but now cherish the space and the slowed down pace. It sounded idyllic. Continue Reading…

Autism, Guest Posts, Special Needs

The Seventeenth Ring

October 6, 2016
autism

By Jayne Schroeder

His small hands, the only notice of what was to come; tiny fists clenched tight and shaking from the sudden storm of rage brewing inside. The yelling, incoherent screams of anger. His hands, now unclenched, his index finger waving wildly, signifying blame to an unknown source an arm’s length away. I wonder just how bad it will get this time. How long will it last and how will it end? I complete a quick scan of the room looking for possible items in his path I fear cannot be replaced. I catch sight of his iPad and my laptop, and I send a silent plea to the Universe. I make a mental note of the blue cup of water on the coffee table, but that’s the last thing I’m thinking about. It’s just water.

My third child was born with an extra twenty-first chromosome on Earth Day, seventeen years ago. It’s not lost on me that his love for every animal and human on this planet is given equally and unconditionally. There is an innocence so breathtakingly beautiful with the living out loud approach he takes in life. He is not self-conscious; the polar opposite of most typically developing teenagers, what you see is what you get. Contrary to the most popular of pre-conceived notions regarding Down syndrome, he is not happy all the time. He is human. Just like you, his emotions run the full spectrum. He does not think twice about letting you know what he is feeling in any particular moment. It can be both beautiful and painful to watch. Continue Reading…

Guest Posts, motherhood, parenting, Special Needs

Down Is Up: On Parenting a Child With Special Needs.

November 6, 2014

beauty-hunting-jen-logo-blackBy Anna Yarrow.

My daughter stands in the middle of a shallow pond, yelling, “If you love me, come and get me! Do you want me? Do you care?” I rest in a patch of shade, watching hordes of children and chaperones traipsing over a wooden bridge; an epileptic girl who fainted at the old schoolhouse, her face weary, limbs floppy in the aftermath; hearing-impaired students in red t-shirts, marching single file, absorbing this living-history museum with their turbo eyes, fingers dancing shadow puppets between them.

“Fine then Mom! I guess I’ll have to stay here . . . Forever! . . . Way past midnight!”

The tremor in her voice tells me there’s sand itching in her socks. Cicadas buzz in the cottonwood trees, volume cranked to unbearable. A canker sore stings her gums. Lunch uneaten. All factors tipping us towards melt-down. A teacher calls, “Time to go, kids!” I wave at the 2nd grade class as they jostle back to the bus. A boy asks, “Why does she get to stay in the water?”

I drove my daughter separately, in case she got wet and muddy, or needed to leave the field trip early. Water usually calms her, but today she’s rocking, hands in tight fists, moaning, “You have to come get me . . . “

I peel off my boots, roll up my jeans, and approach her, soothing, “It’s okay . . . I do want you . . . Please, let’s go.” She grabs my waist and holds tight, pretending she can’t walk. Words like ‘manipulation’ and ‘discipline’ flash across my mind (residue from my spare-the-rod-spoil-the-child upbringing). I’m triggered by her anxious questions: what is love what is want what is care?

She’s silent when I say, “I love you.” (But at least she doesn’t reply, “I don’t love you!” like years past.)

I escort her through heat and blowing dust, and “I’m tired!” towards the parking lot. She asks, “Can we can stop at the library on our way home?” I agree, and remind myself to breathe.

Reality feels slippery after a tantrum. Memories of previous episodes conglomerate in my ribcage, taunting: out-of-control! I judge the day’s events while driving. Pond, yelling, and desperation. Mother frazzled and inept. I give my daughter a carton of almond milk, and fumble the radio, finding her favorite country music station.

Yellow lines blur around a sharp bend. Oncoming vehicle red or orange spooks me and I swerve my Jeep off the road. Slow motion skid on dirt, hello sagebrush, windshield shattering. We’re crashing, tipping, rolling. My arm reaches out to protect her, and I promise, “WE ARE OKAY. WE ARE NOT HURT.”

And she believes me.

Hanging upside-down like bats. My legs pretzel the steering wheel. Engine sounds wrong, so I turn the key. Undo her seatbelt. She falls to the ceiling, surrounded by nuggets of turquoise glass. I say: “We had an accident, but we’re safe!“ She glows with surprise and says, “That felt like zero gravity!” I wonder why I don’t feel sorry. Why we’re not crying. Why all of this feels right somehow.

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Guest Posts, parenting, Special Needs

Before You Judge Me.

October 8, 2014

beauty-hunting-jen-logo-black

By Rachel Pastiloff.

When you are out in the world, be it at a restaurant, grocery shopping, driving in traffic, or at the doctor’s office, and you see a child screaming and a mother losing her cool and grabbing that child by the arm and being stern: BE CAREFUL BEFORE YOU JUDGE THEM.

Be careful placing judgment upon others, for you know not what battles they are fighting.

Before you judge me, or anyone. Take a breath. Consider what you might not know. Look inward. Look outward. Whatever it is, realize this: you may never have any idea of someone else’s story, so judging them is a tricky business.

Continue Reading…