Okay. After of week of lacing up my Army boots and marching head first into the battle of getting Parker the proper vent for his needs, I’m ready to have a light hearted moment.
Or several.
How about if we create a list of how ‘You Know You Are A Parent Of A Kid With Special Needs.’
I’ll start. You guys join in down in the comments section, k?
You Know You Are The Parent Of A Kid With Special Needs When:
* When shopping for kids clothes, you don’t just look at how cute an outfit is, but if it’s 100% cotton, has tags, that can be easily removed, is hard to take off, can fit over AFO’s and feeding tubes, is trach friendly, and covers an ostomy bag well.
* You know the “good vein”, and what color vials they will need for the blood draw.
* You buy 24 month size jeans for your 4 yr old and call them board shorts, because he is too skinny for anything else.
* Your four-year-old’s medical file is over five inches thick.
* When walking down the hall of you local children’s hospital, everyone from doctors to the cleaning staff, addresses you and your child by name.
* Residents come into your hospital room to ask what certain words mean so they don’t have to admit to their attending they don’t know what in the heck a plain old mom is talking about.
* You say things like, “Don’t lick the cat” (Or the doorknob, or the t.v. or the….)
* You don’t go into a restaurant with your child without checking to see if it has the one item he’ll eat. And you might even want to take a look at it to make sure it’ll be acceptable to him.
* By the time you go through the whole stuff-gathering kid-loading getting-into-the-car ritual you’ve forgotten where you’re supposed to be going.
* All foods are finger foods — including soup.
* You find yourself walking down the street in the middle of winter, bundled all up, trudging through the blizzard, but carrying a toddler coat in one hand.. and holding the hand of a jumping, twisting, hopping toddler in the other.. and that toddler is wearing a short sleeved shirt and shorts.
* When you learn not to talk out loud about the future. EVER. Because when there is no concept of time, saying “Tomorrow we’re going to the playground.” just means that you’ve now ruined your today. (Playground! Playground! We go! Playground!. No. Tomorrow we’re going. … PLAYGROUND! PLAYGROUND! PLAYGROUND! PLAYGROUND!. A daylong tantrum follows)
You have the evil eye good and ready for anyone in your house that violates this Talking About The Future rule.
* Your kid eats his dinner while jumping on a trampoline because he’ll eat non-white food that way.
*Your child has had so many x-rays, CT scans, MRIs, ultrasounds, and radioactive contrast studies, you wonder if he will start developing some kind of funky superpowers.
* You laugh hysterically when people say “Don’t worry if he doesn’t eat. He’ll eat when he gets hungry enough”.
* Your house is always the meeting place for everything you are involved in and all friend gatherings. Everyone just accepts that because they know that your house is already set up and it’s just easier than running down the list with you on what to put away, clean, lock up, leave out, bolt down and serve.
* Despite it all, you wouldn’t trade your kid for the universe.
(You can read more here.)
Now it’s YOUR turn. How do YOU know that you are the parent of a kid with special needs?
When not busy doing battle with insurance company and home health care reps, Tammy and Parker can also be found over at their other blog: Praying For Parker.