I’ve felt a lot of “middle” this week. For those who don’t know, or are just tuning in, I am the lucky momma to a neurodivergent little girl named G. What this means for me is that most of our parenting is actually just like your parenting… we don’t know what we’re doing, but we’re willing to figure it out! (If you haven’t realized already, parenting is basically ‘Whose Line Is It Anyway: where everything’s made up and the points don’t matter’.)
We enrolled G in public school while we explore what’s going on with my health, and we have been fortunate to have good experiences with her school staff while we navigate this. Her Kindergarten teacher has been wonderful and sees her gifts, but on Tuesday we learned that she would be relocated to another school due to under-enrollment. This means G has moved to a larger class and has a new teacher.
With a change as big as enrolling G in school (which involves changing her entire day schedule and increasing her sensory stimuli) we have had a rough three weeks. We have been at this parenting business for 5 years with her, so the unknown is something we’re familiar with. We are so richly blessed with people who are here to support us, and more specifically for her. We have learned how having the humility to ask for help and prayers when a day feels like more than we can bear is not only a gift to ourselves, but to our children. We have now met G’s new teacher and met with the guidance counselor to make sure everyone’s on the same page.
Tonight we went to an event at her school and did what “normal” parents do… because that’s what we are, I guess.
Who knows anymore. Her mom uses a cane, her dad is autistic, her sister has speech apraxia and I think the baby of the family is secretly planning world domination. Don’t we all have something? Is not called the “messy middle” because it’s simple.
Don’t get me wrong, “special needs” is definitely how I would describe it… but that’s just for those who have no clue who we even are. But it doesn’t matter to us. Maybe I’m the lady with a cane, or G’s Mom, or that lady you hear yelling “STOP RUNNING, I DON’T WANT YOU TO DIE TODAY!” at her kids in the grocery parking.
It’s just par for the course. My life is full of lovely, breathtaking moments; many of which are seasoned with trials and opportunities to deepen my resiliency.
I’d be lying if didn’t admit to slightly enjoying being that grocery parking lot lady. YOLO.