for when your child doesn’t fit in

While we all have those parenting moments when we notice something a little quirky about our kids – not all of us have the privilege of anxiously wondering how much that quirk will hold them back socially. And then the day comes when it does.  And that cute little quirk becomes a massive elephant in the room of your child’s social life.  Others notice the quirk(s) and begin to act as if… As if your child couldn’t possibly be liked by very many people because she/he is different. As if they are already on the path to Outcast. As if they are not worth the effort.

And it cuts. Deep.
Then, another worry sets in. You’re just waiting for the day to come when other children, maybe even the ones that now call themselves “friend”, will start to tell your child how he or she is different.  And, sure enough, that horrid day arrives.  You overhear another child utter words to describe your child that flitted across your heart, but only in shadowed whispers.
And that heart of yours… it shatters.  Into a million pieces. One for each thought that comes at you about the social road ahead.  And that road is paved with the shards of your heart.
It’s hard work. Raising kids.  It’s hard work, with an emotional cherry on top, raising a child with special needs. Whether those needs are social, physical, emotionally, or some combination, it doesn’t matter.  It’s just hard work. But, like all things that require extra effort, the rewards can be huge.
The rewards can be outrageously great on some days, and barely identifiable on others. Staring deeply into the eyes of the one you call “child” and seeing love reflected back there is an incredible reward. Hearing words of love from this same child? There simply is no greater reward, this side of heaven, for the tantrums and all-nighters you’ve put up with or put in.
But, for those barely identifiable days when you’re sure that your heart has not one single shard left to spare, and in those moments when you rail against the “gift” of being the parent of this child, remember this:
You just look to your right and you’ll see me.  I may need you to put your arm around me and forget about your tattered heart for a moment while you scramble to help me pick up a few shards of my own.  And on the days that I’m feeling strong and seeing the joy in this journey, look to your left.  Let’s promise to link arms and head over there and help that friend up as she struggles under the suffocating weight of learning that her child might never “fit in”, for the very first time.
One thing is certain – we do have to walk this road. It was chosen for us for reasons we may never be able to understand, this side of glory.  But we must always be willing to link arms and remember that we don’t walk it alone.
Never alone.
Sincerely Indeed,
Today’s post is from dear, sweet Missy.  You can find Missy writing anonymously about the mishaps of daily life with an Engineer, a child with an Autistic Spectrum Disorder, and a preschooler who’s convinced she’s 14.  She is a Southern transplant living the dream in the New England area.  The mishaps are a’plenty.

2 thoughts on “for when your child doesn’t fit in

  1. Pingback: What I'm Into {October 2013 edition} - Sheri Dacon

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