Are you scrounging for thankfulness this holiday season? Holidays can be a challenge for those walking through hard days. Perhaps you feel like you've been handed the short-end of the stick; your child is struggling, you’re exhausted and it seems like everybody else has life with a bit more gravy. It’s easy to focus on our circumstances, take stock of what we have and where we are and end up feeling completely void of thankfulness. Is there a cure for this?
I first suspected I had ADHD as a teenager, but finding the right professional to take me seriously was much harder than I expected. Previous attempts only ended in frustration and tears.
Enjoying the holidays with a food allergy sounds like an oxymoron doesn’t it? After all, eating together is an integral component of the holiday season. I looked forward to making our traditional holiday foods until I was diagnosed with a dairy allergy in 2012. What was to enjoy about the holidays when the foods associated with it were off limits to me?
It was a short, ten-minute drive from the hotel to the residential facility. I maintained composure while I navigated the busy public roads, and then residential streets. I had a whole range of emotions racing through my body, mind and spirit as we pulled into the campus. This was not just a pleasure drive or a routine errand, this was a significant milestone in the life of my son and our family.
While Halloween is a fun time of year for many children, it can be a really difficult time for some, including many children with additional/special needs. For them it can be a confusing, anxiety-inducing, or even utterly terrifying time. But it doesn’t have to be like that. If we stop for a moment to think about the things they might find hard and how to put things in place to help them, children with special needs can safely join in the fun, too. So what are some of the things about Halloween that children with additional needs can find hard?
Some days I just miss the normalcy of life. Some days I pretend we’re just like anybody else. Like this morning. I took my son up to my room with me and played a silent rebellion against the litany of medications waiting to be given, the nurse scheduled to arrive in an hour and respiratory treatments waiting to be done.
When my son was diagnosed with autism more than thirty years ago, I put on my yellow rescue vest, and rarely take it off. I’ve discovered that my work as rescuer has bled over into the rest of my life. I need to let go of the myth that I have the power to rescue or change anyone but myself. God is inviting me to take off the yellow rescue vest and let God be God!
