Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Momnificent’

Last month, I began guest blogging about life as a special-needs parent for Momnificent!, an outstanding site and business run by Family Success Specialist and Life Coach, Lori Radun.

Here’s an excerpt of this week’s post. Follow the link at the end to read the rest at Momnificent.com!

It Takes A Village

People say it takes a village to raise a child. But what if that child has special needs? What then? That is: What happens when the village doesn’t know how to raise the child? As a mother of a typical child and a child with autism, I see every day the vast difference between the skills necessary to parent my four-year-old chatterbox of a daughter, who is a typical child, and those needed to raise my six-year-old, non-verbal, energy bundle of a son, who has severe autism. With both kids, as is the case for nearly all parents, learning how to guide them through the world has been an exercise in on-the-job training. However, with my daughter, I have plenty of resources at my disposal when I need advice. I can call other moms or research online for good tactics and strategies. But with my son, I find that, quite often, I’m going it alone. And, some days, I wonder: Where is our village?

For parents of typical children, the village seems to form all by itself. Mommy playgroups and baby gymnastics, daycares and neighborhoods – the village is there for the joining. We moms (and sometimes dads!) form intimate bonds based on our shared experiences in child rearing, become close friends, and care for one another and each other’s children as we would our own families. When we’re sick and our spouses or partners are out of town on business, the village pitches in to care for our kids. When a new baby arrives, that mommy network shifts into high gear with dinners and help around the house. But when a child is diagnosed with autism, the village is at a loss. Those who don’t live in the autism community simply (and understandably) don’t feel prepared to babysit a toddler with autism, as much as they’d like to help by giving that child’s parents a much-needed break. They don’t know how to help or what the family needs, and that means, ultimately, special-needs parents are pretty much on their own.

READ THE REST AT MOMNIFICENT.COM!

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

This week, I began guest blogging for Momnificent!, an outstanding site and business run by Family Success Specialist and Life Coach, Lori Radun. I’ll be posting about life as a special-needs parent on Lori’s blog once a month for now, and I’ll share links here.

Here’s an excerpt of this week’s post. Follow the link at the end to read the rest at Momnificent.com!

I Am Alice

When my son Will, my baby, my first-born, was diagnosed with autism at 22 months, I felt as if the ground had opened up and swallowed us whole. I felt we’d been shoved, head first, into this bottomless abyss and were in a slow-motion free fall that might never end. And then, on the other hand, I wasn’t sure I wanted it to end, wasn’t sure I wanted to know where rock bottom actually was, because surely this moment, this panic, this grief had to be rock bottom. Surely it couldn’t be worse. But in the days and weeks that followed, I found that it could be worse, and still we were in a free fall.

In those first months, pregnant with my daughter and reeling from Will’s diagnosis, floating from doctor’s offices to therapy centers to support groups, I watched the world move around me like Alice flying downward through the rabbit hole. How did we get here? Where IS here? How did I not know this whole alternate existence was right beneath my feet? When and how will we go home? Only Alice wasn’t 8 months pregnant with a two-year-old on her hip and she careened downward to Wonderland. And there was no chance I was going to suddenly wake up.

Eventually, and I really couldn’t tell you how long it took, I stopped falling. I started to find level ground. I gained my footing in this strange new landscape that had suddenly become my life. I realized I wasn’t actually in an abyss, hadn’t fallen down the rabbit hole, and actually could wake up from this nightmare to some degree. True, I couldn’t change the fact that Will has autism, but I could change one thing: how I responded to the situation.

READ THE REST AT MOMNIFICENT.COM!

Read Full Post »