6 minute read
September 2022 Special Needs Living Akron/Canton
Parent Perspective
Musings From A Real Special Needs Mom Of Stark County A DAY AT THE POOL!
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By Sara Heckert
Sara Heckert
This is what my daughter says when she returns to the living room after using the restroom. Then the girls embrace like they haven’t seen each other in a week. It’s a whole thing. It’s fabulous. Anywho, how have y’all been? We’re just livin’ the Down syndrome dream over here! You may have observed some levity in my writing which is actually quite representative of, well, me. I do try to keep things light because, y’all, this special needs life can be heavy.
Jenifer Hill, a wise executive coach/ counselor friend that has an entire Greek alphabet of letters after her name, recently shared the following sentiment with me. I’ve elaborated a bit with my own interpretation, but she’s definitely the brains behind the metaphor.
A day at the pool. Some people are perfectly fine staying in the shallow end all day. Not too deep. Low-risk. Safe. These folks are actually fairly happy with life, as a whole, most all of the time! Nothing keeps them down for long. They’re able to let things just roll off with a smile on their face, perhaps without even forming much of an opinion. Glass-half-full kind of folks! Cheers!
Some people are deep-enders. Cannonball!! They prefer the deep. Few people stay long, making it less crowded. This might include individuals who are genuinely passionate about global or moral issues. Maybe they take their religious studies seriously. Maybe they have big emotions. Those people you haven’t seen in years, but the second you meet up for coffee, you pick up right where you left off — those are your fellow deep-enders. And none of that “oh.my.gosh.i.love.your.haircut” stuff. But the “how are you, really?” people. “You’ve lost weight; what’s going on?” “Your make-up is trying to hide the fact that you’ve been crying for … months? Or has it been years? You’re not fooling me; what happened? You couldn’t fake it if you wanted to!” Deep-enders. These are my people. The glass is impractical because I have kids with special needs! We don’t use glass; are you kidding me!?
The last pool location is the snack bar. On the surface, perhaps they appear lazy. Unengaged. Maybe you even tease them for being afraid of getting a little sun. In your head, you wonder if they even realize there’s a pool over here! Maybe these individuals struggle with chronic depression or addiction, and they’re tired of watching everyone else win at life, and they just haven’t quite figured out how to keep up, so they resort to what they know, what’s comfortable. No risk. The snack bar.
This pool scenario can be applied to many areas of life. Friendships. A spiritual journey. Marriage. Society as a whole. We all have varying points of view, which shape how we relate to others and move (or get dragged) through life. Do you long to be in the shallow end? Those people look so happy and carefree! Are you jealous of those that are actually able to relax? Haven’t quite found your fellow deep-enders yet? The deep end can be lonely.
Where is she going with this, you ask? Look, this special needs life can throw you into the deep end right quick. And maybe you feel like you’re drowning. Gasping for air. Maybe it was the initial diagnosis. Prenatal? At birth? Developed later as your child began to grow, but not quite at the same pace as her peers? Or all those quirky, funny little things started to add up to a deep-end diagnosis. Maybe the first few months and years weren’t too bad. Those playgroup moms and pediatric therapists are so darn happy and encouraging! Playing with your kid for an hour each week IS fun. But the transition tears when it’s all over are not. Or maybe at some point, a simple routine lab-work visit led to a follow-up appointment which led to a consult, then a specialist referral, and the lifeguard was on a break and didn’t get your memo that a life preserver was needed over here, stat! The deep end snuck up on ya.
Well, I’m here to tell you, once again, that you are not alone. While there is plenty of room out here in the deep end for you, we’ve got life jackets and pool noodles and even those big flat rafts to share; it really is ok to borrow my sun hat and doze off on a lounge chair. Leave the snack bar and put your feet in! Engage with the party people in the pool.
Ok, enough with the metaphors for a second. What I’m trying to encourage you to do, especially you full-time caregivers, is to take a break! If you can’t seem to leave the deep end, get on this raft and let me shove you off to float in the shallow end for a while. Make a prolonged stop at the snack bar. Heck, make a stop at the swim-up bar and grab a pina colada every once in a while! If you can’t quite leave the snack bar, maybe it’s time to call a therapist. No shame. No judgment. Take a step toward the pool. It’s time to smile again. If someone offers to watch your kiddo, let them! If there’s a respite night available at a local church, sign up! If you have access to respite funds, use them!
Being a special needs parent AND caregiver is a lot. A friend told me a few years ago that I needed to relax a little bit. Maybe I was afraid to be viewed as not being a good mom because I was “leaving” my kids for the weekend. But it turns out she was right. Ever since then, I have tried to get away quarterly and get some rest to restore me. I connect with a friend or my husband, and it’s been lifechanging! So incredibly helpful. And guess what? My kids need that break from me, too! This special needs life is lifelong. It doesn’t end after graduation.
Make some plans today to take care of yourself, so you can better take care of your family. Go to a comedy show. Get away for a few nights. Take a quick beach trip. Get a massage. Let someone serve you dinner — and do the dishes! And if you need someone to show you how it’s done, my fall calendar is wide open!
