eSPECIALLY: For those who don't

The other day I was having a conversation about our children - no surprise there - with a close acquaintance, and the topic was focused specifically on our sons. Over the last two years, we've gotten to know each other well and shared quite a bit with each other especially since we work together in the same space. Our children congregate in our classroom straight off of their respective buses daily. If we're teaching, it could become rather chaotic quickly, but we've managed to keep it to a low hum with the help of snacks and alternative entertainment as we finish up for the day. If we're not teaching, which is only on our planning days, then it's usually a lot less noisy and we can be more attentive and in tune with our children.

Beyond the most noticable and obvious similarities, such as our Florida connection, being members of sororities, marriage + 2 kids, and being fabulously young, black, and educated, we each have a child with special needs. While I've known since my son's first year of life, her journey has really just begun. My son is older then hers, which means we're merely a few blocks ahead of them in our journey, but we're constantly learning, adjusting, trying, and making it work. Since my 3.5-hour move away from home, for an a new opportunity, I have come to realize that part of my opportunity is touching and impacting the lives of those other than my students. Sharing our story - it's not just mine or my son's, but ours - over time with her has encouraged her to seek out answers and help with her own. Therefore, I am grateful to be a vessel, a friend, a sounding board, an assuring shoulder, or a positive perspective on an uncertain, often scary, challenging [read: frustrating], and downright unconventional journey. 

If there's no true real life book on parenting, there's definitely no book on parenting exceptional children with special needs.

In our conversation, and even now, my level of sensitivity on this subject will cause a stinging sensation in my eyes. And while I've gotten good - not perfect - at staring or willing away a betrayal of tears, sometimes I just let them fall. I could feel it happening yesterday and I could see it in her as well. Where she is now - unwilling, due to fear, to move forward to get full answers - I was there. Three or four years ago, I didn't want the potential burden of something I didn't know or understand to befall my new parenting journey. (As a first time parent, and not having people around you to really support you with the care, time, knowledge, and wisdom, can be twice and thrice as daunting.) I knew it wasn't going to be easy. The thoughts of "how are others going to respond to this" and "I don't want people staring at us and treating us differently" took up residence in my mind. So, I get where she's coming from. Family is family, but they don't always know or understand. I'm protective of my children, but especially my son. It is easy to work with or spend time with children who are "normal", but sprinkle in a little ADHD, Autism, Down Syndrome, or other intellectual disabilities, and you've got your hands overflowing. So, when I feel like my son is singled out or treated unfairly by adults (and other kids) who don't know, then consider me All-Defensive 1st team. 

I was chosen as his mother for a reason. We both were chosen to be our sons' mothers for a purpose. I've come to embrace this blessing, and I hope that with encouragement, she, too, will wholeheartedly embrace this with God-fidence, grace, and compassion.

For those of you who don't know, I am a mother of an extremely intelligent, intuitive, creative, number-loving, musically-inclined child. He may laugh and not understand that it's no laughing matter; he may cry and not be able to fully articulate why. He's a picky eater, but he's also confident and independent. He will try and try again until he gets it. He celebrates everyone on the team. He is a beautifully, brilliant, brown boy and he is joy embodied. He has had a song in his heart and mouth, and a praise in his feet since his first day on Earth, so I encourage, uplift, and celebrate right along with him. 

No matter the diagnosis, keep living and loving. Keep moving. Keep showing up for yourself, for your child(ren), and for others. Keep showing up in the world. Fill up your space until it's overflowing, then move to a bigger space and fill it too.

"Be of good cheer" (John 16:33) and praise God for knowing "the plans" He has for you (Jeremiah 29:11).