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You tend to set blogging trends, and you're the most likely to write your own meme or survey.
Once again I stood over my son, working with him for hours on a
task that would have taken a mere 20 minutes for any of my other
children. And once again, my daughter dutifully picked up her books,
completed her work all on her own, and basically took care of
herself. With a sideways glance, I saw her quietly withdrawing
through the door while I poured my energies into my son. Just then
my youngest skipped in and gingerly asked if now, maybe I might have
time to enjoy that tea party we've been putting off for days. I
sighed. Not now.
What was God thinking? Why would He put such a time consuming,
labor absorbing, emotionally intense child in the same family as my
other compliant, quiet and reserved children? It just wasn't fair.
So often his siblings were overwhelmed by him, his needs, his
intensity, his incessant desire for interaction. (Not to mention the
amount of time they spent dodging the small desk supplies he would
catapult at them by balancing them on the handle of a spoon and
whacking the other end.) How can this be a good thing? And how can I
possibly give them equal time when this intense child takes the
lion's share of my parenting efforts? I'm often exhausted just
getting him started on schooling in the morning.
This struggle to provide equal time to all my children was my
constant companion for years. But my "aha" moment came when I
attended my state's homeschool conference and observed a panel of
moms with special needs kids. These moms had children with serious
issues. Deafness, blindness, Spina Bifida. Their lives were far more
full and challenging than my own. Doctor visits, diet restrictions,
severe allergic reactions, nebulizers, wheelchairs and frequent
injections were a part of their daily lives. But as I watched them,
I sensed that these moms weren't living the frenzied life that
reigned in my home. You could just tell by looking at them. Nor did
they go about wearing the lovely guilt accessories I seemed to carry
everywhere. Â
The microphone was passed around and finally there came the
question that I had waited for. "How do you give equal time to your
other children when this one child takes so much of your resources?"
Everyone's ears perked up, including my own. The woman who
answered this question said two great things in response. First, she
told us that question comes up every time there is a meeting such as
this. (Whew! At least I'm not alone in this boat.) Second (my
favorite part), she said "You don't. You don't give equal time to
all your children. You can't. You have to let go of the notion. It's
not realistic or" (get ready for this one) "even desirable."
You don't? What? It's not even desirable? I couldn't quite take
it in. I had so fiercely held to this concept, assuming it was a
sacred cow like looking both ways before crossing streets or never
mixing laundry colors. I just took for granted that it was a noble
goal and that everybody else must be achieving it. Since it wasn't
occurring in my house, clearly I just needed to work harder. Just
make it happen. Just don't get any sleep. But here were these women
saying it isn't so. They were also saying that they were at peace
with the concept. Not only at peace with it, as in "resigned to
it"--they were really at peace with it, as in believing that it
wasn't even desirable. It took awhile (quite awhile in fact ), but
eventually I learned to unfold the truths that were buried deep in
those words.
LETTING IT GO
For me it really became an act of faith. Does God know what He's
doing? Can I truly trust that our family is by design and not by
default? Can I honestly rely on the One who knew each family member
before they were formed in their mother's womb and then selected
them, one at a time, for membership in my family? I began with the
assumption that I could. I could trust that God has plans for each
of us that are for good, not evil. I could actually stretch out and
recline back into the arms of that trust. With that as my premise, I
began looking for the good that I knew had to be there--the good
that I had been missing in my driven but misguided efforts to mete
myself out in equal portions.
What good did I find? Plenty.
My other children were developing an awareness of reality and
others' needs that went beyond their own skin. Early on, they
found empathy and compassion. Early on, they discovered ways in
which life wasn't fair and that they had actually received more
than others. Early on, they found gratitude that their lives were
far easier in many ways than was their brother's. God is good.
One child was able to assist in Sunday School in reining in a
child whose behavior was much like her brother's. Her sense of
service and even competence was grown by this experience. Yep, God
is good again.
One daughter is incredibly shy, but with this very intense and
highly physical brother to deal with, she toughened up and
developed skills she might never have found if all her siblings
had been calm and compliant. God is still good.
My children had to learn to entertain themselves. I have
discovered over the years that this is a profound gift for them,
one often missing in other families. My children do not believe
that it is my job to keep life interesting or entertaining. They
have learned to do this for themselves. They have learned
contentment. God is all about contentment.
Siblings of a special needs child are simply not as judgmental
when they meet folks who don't fit a preconceived mold. They are
more comfortable in a variety of scenarios that leave others
feeling awkward. They've had plenty of experience in reading the
faces of those who are taken aback by their sibling. And they've
learned to respond in ways that bring ease to uncomfortable
situations. What a skill. God is empowering.
In many families, children have developed an interest in a
medical career, counseling position or other service-based
occupation because their heart has been touched by the unique
needs of a much loved but challenging sibling. Some children
choose careers that allow them to impact the laws that protect and
care for those unable to advocate for themselves. God has plans
for all our children.
In the end, I have come to believe that God has placed these
siblings in this arrangement because He has a plan for them that
will require skills that are developed by this family makeup. It
wasn't a mistake. It's not even an issue of simply learning to
tolerate it. You can rejoice in the good that will come of the mix
and blend in your family. Look for the blessings. Look for the good.
But don't keep it to yourself. Point it out to your children so they
too learn to recline into the arms of a God who put together a great
family with them in it and a great plan with their name on it.
*This article first published on September 3, 2007.
Carol Barnier is a delightful speaker, entertaining author,
adequate wife and a pitiful housekeeper ... and oh yes, a fellow
homeschooler. Her book, If I'm Diapering a Watermelon, Then
Where'd I Leave The Baby? is a survivor's manual for life in the
distractible lane. Contact Carol at carol@OpenGifts. org
This article was originally published in the July/Aug '07
issue of Home School Enrichment Magazine. For more details, visit http://HomeSchoolEn richment. comÂ
