This changed everything.
But this isn’t my hand.
This is the hand of my now 9yo son.
Our mornings, before his meds take effect, he may spit, kick, hit, throw things, scream, call names.
This is the real, raw, unfiltered everyday life of a special needs parent.
Sure, some of the logistics may look different, depending on diagnosis.
Maybe you spent your morning changing, cleaning, and dressing your teenage child who is fully dependent.
Maybe you loaded a feeding tube.
Maybe you calmed an outburst because you ran out of the ONLY waffles your child will eat.
Friends, we are tired.
I get that some think medication is bad for kids.
You. Are. Wrong.
This little white pill you see in my son’s tiny hand is his lifeline.
This is the single opportunity he has at success each day.
Without it, his brain moves so fast and that he has no chance to make a logical decision.
Without that pill, he cannot be who he really is–smart and strong, kind and thoughtful, hilarious and fun.
Without it he only has one option–lightning speed, zero thinking before acting.
Parenting my boy is my greatest joy and my hardest assignment.
No one who isn’t living this life can fully understand, and that’s ok.
Be kind always.
Ask questions often.
And never assume.
Most every special needs parent will agree that however hard you think our daily lives are, you can safely multiply that indefinitely.
This little pill offers our son hope and opportunity.
In our house, no topic is off limits.
Not mental health, not medication, not sex nor drugs nor any other.
I may mess up a lot of things, but our kids will grow up knowing that they are safe in our space to ask questions, to talk freely, and to be exactly who they are, even if their brain requires some assistance to let the true version of themselves shine.
We will not be shamed for that.
**Follow me on IG @themamaontherocks