Just imperfect parents raising imperfect children

I have a confession to make: I am not a perfect mum.image
I just needed to get that ‘out there’ without feeling a failure or weak. The truth is none of us are ‘perfect’ parents and none of our children are ‘perfect’ either. We are all muddling through as best we can. It’s just some of us are under more scrutiny than others.Most families get to raise their children with minimum involvement from others outside of their own family. I don’t have that luxury. And while I am grateful for everyone who supports us it also comes with huge pressure to ‘perform’ and ‘jump through hoops’ at times.
I left another multi-agency meeting this week in tears. While no-one actually came out with the line of ‘it’s the parent’s fault’, there is always a feeling of inadequacy that comes with having children who have ‘extra needs’. Sometimes it can feel like your best is just never enough.
So I just need to get this out:
I am not perfect and neither are my children.

My children throw tantrums often for the craziest of reasons, they have more screen time than they should, sometimes we are still in pyjamas at lunch time at the weekend. I sometimes let them sit right in front of the TV even though I know they shouldn’t, I help them get dressed some mornings for school just because it is quicker and easier, and I have even thought about doing homework for them because I just can’t face another battle (I said thought as not quite mastered the art of writing and spelling like a six year old).
My children have off days.
And so do I.
Just because my children have special needs does not make my family any different to any other. In fact we are probably more exhausted, more chaotic and busier than many other families.
We live in a glass house at times where teachers, social workers and therapists feel they can tell us where we are going wrong and what we have to do to help our children. Sometimes it is helpful; sometimes it isn’t. I don’t have all the answers, but neither does anyone else.
But we are doing our best.
It is easy for others to judge and criticise and ‘guide’. And there are times when someone outside of the situation can see things we just can’t which is helpful and supportive. But on a daily basis we live this.
I know I get it wrong at times. And I know other times I get it just right. Sometimes my children master something new, sometimes they don’t.
Special needs parents are no different to other parents really. But because our children ‘struggle’ in areas it puts pressure on us to ‘fix’ them and support them when all we really are is imperfect parents raising imperfect children.
When we get it ‘wrong’, be kind. When we get it ‘right’, encourage. We are all raising unique, wonderful, individual children with different qualities and skills. And we are all doing it in the best way we can.
My children’s struggles may be obvious but everyone of us struggle, wether child or parent.
Be kind, be supportive, and don’t judge.
Every single one of us are just imperfect parents raising imperfect children at the end of the day.

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Conversations with a six year old about disability

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We were sitting waiting in the car; unassuming, ordinary, an almost everyday occurrence. But the conversation was anything but. I have replayed it in my head a few times now because the insight, compassion and sheer innocence of it all was something very special.

Children see the world so differently. And there is so much we can learn from a six-year-old.

Mummy, we are parked in a wheelchair space” she piped up, so matter of factly.
I know honey, it is ok. Isaac is with us (her twin brother who has a number of disabilities) and I have put the blue badge up.”
“But you have not got his wheelchair?”

That is ok too sweetie as not everyone who is disabled uses a wheelchair. Isaac is disabled but he does not use his wheelchair sometimes. The picture is just used to tell other people the space is for disabled people.”
Well that is a bit silly! I don’t like that sign mummy because it is not right. Why have it for cars? They are not disabled. And it is not right on the toilets too! Wheelchairs don’t use toilets, people do!”image
“I know. But they use it as a sign to mean disabled because wheelchairs are something lots of disabled people use. And on the toilets it is just like the sign for woman and men and changing babies too
“Well the baby change one is wrong too! My brother is not a baby and you take him into the baby change too sometimes. Do shops not think that sometimes big children still need changed and they are not babies? That makes me sad because my brother is not a baby.”
I agree. Sometimes it makes me sad too darling. But it is just a sign and nobody means it to upset people.”

There was a pause while I sorted out her brother who was upset and in doing so I knocked over his parking badge. My daughter noticed and continued…

“Well, if I was disabled I would not want a blue badge…”
Another pause while I wonder how I should reply to this but before I can she continues…
“I would want a pink one! Girls should have pink ones!”
I smile to myself but secretly think she has a point.

“Is the car beside us disabled mummy?”
“Cars are not disabled darling. It is people. And yes either the person driving or someone in the car is probably disabled as they are in a disabled parking bay just like us
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“What disabled do they have?” (I should probably correct her grammar but decide that might interrupt the conversation too much)
“I don’t know. Sometimes you can tell quite easily if they need lifted into a wheelchair or if they use crutches but sometimes, like Isaac, you can’t see what someone is struggling with. There are lots of disabilities people can have.”
“But you can’t ask them can you? Because what if they are like Isaac and they can’t talk?”
“That is true
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The rain has stopped so I decide to get both children out the car and into the supermarket but my daughter still has plenty to say. As I hold their hands tightly my daughter raises another valid point.

“Why are all the other trolleys next to the parking bits but the one for Isaac always so far away? Everyone else can walk but he needs help.”

Good question!

imageAs we eventually find the trolley we need and strap her brother in she has some more observations.
“People that help like you mummy are very strong. And I think you need to grow too! The handles are very high up even I can’t reach them!”

Another valid point. This child will go far! She sees things most adults don’t.

She proceeds to carry on talking and questioning and commenting as I try to think what essentials we need. Meanwhile her brother flaps and makes noises and presses the same noise on his iPad continually. I finally make it round the store and pay for our goods.

On the way back to the car the rain has got heavier and my little blue-eyed six-year-old decides having a special bother is actually a good thing.

“At least we got to park near the shop so we don’t get wet. I don’t think disabled people like getting wet so that is why they have spaces near the door.”
She isn’t quite finished…
“If I had a shop I would have spaces for people with children, spaces for disabled people and spaces for people like you mummy.”
“Spaces for people like me?”
“Yes. Ones for tired mummy’s like you
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I am not too sure what to say to that idea but I do think it would be very popular!

As I drive the short distance home with them I am so grateful for both of them. Grateful for one who can talk, and question and discuss such subjects as disabled parking, changing facilities and suitable shopping trolleys and grateful for her twin brother who is making these subjects such everyday events and breaking down prejudice and taboos without even saying a word.

What does my six-year-old think of disability? She just thinks her brother is special. He has a blue badge, sits in a special trolley and goes to a different school. But he is her brother and she loves him.

They never told me THAT at diagnosis!

imageThey never told me THAT at diagnosis!

So I am a ‘special needs mum’, more by accident than choice. I have six-year-old twins who have an array of medical and developmental diagnosis. There have been a number of occasions when we have sat down with doctors, specialists and psychologists to receive spoken, and later written, diagnosis and each time brings a huge array of different emotions. But over time you realise that while professionals may give you a ‘name’ for what your child is experiencing there is so much else they DON’T tell you. Here are a few things no-one told me when my children were diagnosed:

1. This won’t just affect your child. It will affect the entire family.
Having a child with a genetic condition, or a developmental disability or who requires on-going support, puts a huge strain on everyone in the family. Parents have to walk through their own private journey to come to terms with, and hopefully eventually accept, that life is not going to be quite how they planned it. And siblings have to cope with perhaps not getting the same attention they need or facing seeing their brother or sister go through things no child should ever have to. Grandparents, uncles, aunts, and extended family members don’t always know what to say or how to support and so sometimes appear to criticise or upset when perhaps they never intended. It is like dropping a pebble in the ocean and seeing it ripple out way beyond where it first dropped. No-one told me that at diagnosis. I wish they had. I may have been more patient with family if they had.

2. This will put a huge strain on your relationships.
Even couples who are incredibly close and resilient struggle when you add in the added complication of a child with a diagnosis. Blame, jealousy of the child’s needs, extra financial pressure and lack of sleep, make it so difficult to maintain a healthy relationship on top of the caring responsibilities of a special needs child. Then there is the strain put on friendships when you can’t make as many social events or you cancel things at short notice. Social gatherings such as weddings, parties, and christening become quite a burden to a family who can not readily get a babysitter for a child with additional needs. I wasn’t prepared for how a diagnosis would affect my marriage and my friendships. I wish someone had told me. I may have been more understanding if they had.

3. This will stretch your finances beyond recognition.
Raising children is expensive. Raising a child with any sort of diagnosis is even more expensive. Hospital visits cost not only in travel and parking costs but often in food, treats for your brave soldier and perhaps time off work. For many families giving up work to become a full-time carer is the only option and that brings with it a drop in income that never seems to get replaced. Private therapies cost and toys with the words ‘special needs’ in front seem to double or triple in price. Extra heating to keep a sick child warm, ongoing clinic and therapy appointments, carers, equipment, specialist clothing, continence products and replacing broken communication devices all put a huge strain on the financial situation of a family. I had no idea about this when we first had a diagnosis. I wish I had known. I may have been more prepared for it if I had.

4. Everyone you speak to will now be an expert.
When I had no ‘name’ for my children’s challenges people were happy to listen, offer a hug and at the most perhaps suggest a few things they thought might help. But mostly people just felt sorry for me or my children. But once we received that all important diagnosis (especially for some reason when one of the diagnosis was autism) everyone seemed to suddenly become an expert! We needed to urgently start this therapy or that therapy! It was because we had the kids vaccinated! It was the stuff we fed them! They knew someone who had the same thing and they took this vitamin or read this book and now their child is cured. And so on. We were judged, and corrected, and criticised for everything from the moment we mentioned the diagnosis! No-one told me that at diagnosis! I wish they had. I might have developed a thicker skin quicker if they had.

5. Diagnosis is the start of a journey not the completion of one.
When you have spent months and years fighting to get your children’s needs recognised and acknowledged, when you have been on waiting lists for so long you can’t even remember the person’s name who referred you in the first place, when you have put your heart and strength and fight into this one thing, you can easily see the diagnosis as the end of a very long journey. It is three years this month since we were told my son had classic autism, global developmental delay and severe learning difficulties. Three years on and I am still fighting his corner, still trying to get people to listen, and still pushing for more support. I naively thought everything would ‘fall into place’ after we had a diagnosis. Sadly that never happened and I have discovered it rarely does. They never told me that at diagnosis. I wish they had. I would have saved some of my strength and stamina if I had known.

6. There will be days or years later you will still be sad.
I expected to cry the day we were given the diagnosis. What I didn’t expect is that years later there would still be days I would look at my child and cry. That does not mean I am not a happy person. My children fill me with pride daily. They are achieving in their own way all the time. But some days I watch them struggle. Or see something another child does easily that they have yet to master (like talking or waving goodbye) and the tears come easy. And I have realised I am not alone. Some days I relive that diagnosis day and it stabs me in the chest as much as it did the first day I heard it. I don’t live there anymore but I still hurt. And that is ok. It’s just no-one told me that on diagnosis day. I would have kept some tissues with me had I known.

7. Diagnosis doesn’t change your child. Love does.
I looked at my child differently the day they were diagnosed. I saw a child struggling with medical issues or developmental issues and I worried for the future. I saw a life mapped out for them I never planned nor wanted and that broke my heart. I thought the diagnosis would somehow define them. But years later I realise that has not happened. As time has gone on people see my children simply for who they are not the name given to their communication difficulties or social struggles or medical challenges. When I introduce my children I just call them by name. That is who they are. That is who they will always be. They never told me THAT at diagnosis. Maybe if they had I would have realised it would all be ok.

They gave a name that day for the collection of difficulties my child presented with. But that was all. A name. A word. Something I could learn more about to help them. They took my breath away for a moment. But they never ever took my child.

My children are awesome. But they never told me THAT on diagnosis day either. That is ok though. I tell them that everyday anyway!
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It’s all about me!

Being positive is not being in denial. Posting highlights of your day on social media is not being fake. Trying to find hope in hopelessness is not wrong.

Attitude means everything.

And recently I have had to give myself a good shake.

Living with the daily challenges of two children who struggle can really get me down. Some days, more than I would like to publicly admit, I cry. I worry about the future. I struggle through everyday, often silently. And I feel alone.

But then I realised something important. I came to realise it was actually all about me!

I could look at things negative. Or I could try to see a positive.

imageFor example I could have wallowed in upset at the thought my daughter was so anxious she never made it to her first ever school trip. I could have become angry that she seemed to be excluding herself due to fear. But instead I chose to take her out for the day instead and shared a picture of her smiling face at a science centre rather than dwelling on her inability to join her peers at the zoo. School trip failing verses mummy and daughter quality time? Which would you have thought about more?

imageSame with sports day. I could shed many a tear over the fact my daughter was unable to join in many of the activities due to her difficulties. I could share pictures of an older girl having to take her hand and support her for even the simplest of races. Or I could take pride in the fact that on the tenth go at running around the cones my six-year-old finally had the confidence to say ‘can I try that myself?’. Those nine turns at needing support could have broken me but that final time doing it independently will make up for that every single time.
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And then there was her class assembly. I was hurt and devastated when my daughter came home to say she was the only child in the class who did not have a speaking part. Her teacher had asked her and she had told them she felt she could not do it. Though I admired her honestly I have to admit I also felt so sad. For her, and for me. But can I tell you something? There was not a dry eye in the house on the day of her assembly when she took centre stage and held the entire show together with the most crucial part in the play despite not saying a single word! In the words of my six-year-old, ‘We can’t all have speaking parts. Someone has to do the acting!’ There is so much wisdom in that.

I could think about the sadness of taking her to yet another appointment.Or I could look at her smile as she played innocently in the waiting room and her sheer delight at being given insoles to help turn her feet. I think as adults we too often set our minds on that appointment rather than the child-like look at it all.
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I could be angry at the fact I never get to sit in church with everyone else due to my children’s needs. Or I could take pride in the fact my children will sit outside the hall in their own little bubbles allowing me to at least be in the building. This is progress.

I could be embarrassed that I took my children to visit a friend and my son preferred to feel her garden bush than to be social. Or I could snap a picture of his happy face and be grateful my friend accepts us for who we are. And is happy for us to come back anytime.
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I could shed tears at the fact my daughter recently went to a party and spent two hours sitting at the side next to me on her own. Or I could be delighted she was invited in the first place and see this as progress that she stayed in the room and enjoyed watching.
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I could become frustrated at the fact everywhere we go my son is fixated with the elevators. Or I could ride with him, film him and discover on play back that he actually said the word ‘again’! Had we not been at that lift I would have missed that word! He hasn’t said it since but I have a video as proof and in time I may one day hear it once more!
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And finally I could despair at the fact that for almost two years now my son has refused to wear anything other than his beloved school jumper. I mean literally every day I only get to see him in red. It started off funny but then in time I somehow gave up hope. Then, just today, he let me put a t-shirt on him and he kept it on happily all day long! And after all those tears, hopelessness and feelings of despair, I found a reason to smile again.
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My children have some real struggles. I will never deny that. And everyday is a challenge. But sometimes it isn’t about them. It is about attitude: My attitude. Sometimes it is how I see things that makes a real difference to everyone else.

And now I realise that: it is all about me!

Why is it always about children?

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March is fast becoming my busiest month. Last year, quite by accident, I found myself making a video to mark autism awareness day on April 2nd. Within 24 hours I had been sent over 150 pictures of children from throughout the UK, mostly by people who I had never met in person, and within a few days I put them together in a video along with some music. It was all new, and hurried and compiled without a great deal of deeper meaning. And in my enthusiasm, innocence and haste I never really gave it too much thought. I was more worried about copyright laws and technical issues of teaching myself how to make a video and upload it to you tube than I was about thinking about any deeper questions. But a year later I look at that video and ask myself one question?

Why is it always about children? See for yourself…

We are approaching autism awareness day once again. And if anything it highlights to me again how much it always seems to be about children. You would think autism was a childhood condition. You would assume that at 16 or 18 autism ceases to affect someone. But that could not be further from the truth. My children (yes they are still very much children and so I am as guilty as the next autism parent of making it about children) will both grow up to be adults with autism. It is a life long condition. There is no cure.

There are reasons why it may seem we hear so much more about children with autism than we do adults. Here are some of my thoughts as to why that is:

1. Children touch the heart-strings more. Charities get more money when children are involved. The innocence and vulnerability of little children seems to open up even the coldest of hearts. So like any condition, if it affects children, everyone is keen to go down that angle. A crying child, a clearly disabled child or an ill child seems to be so powerful. And with autism being a hidden disability it can be so tempting to show children in this light just to bring our cause to the forefront and show that autism can be just as devastating to a family as many other conditions. I have done it myself. And so much publicity about autism does it too. Because it works.

2. The majority of people with autism are diagnosed in childhood. When you first find out your child has any condition your natural instinct is often to find out more and to find others in the same position. And so support groups are born. It is natural to want to promote your cause when it has suddenly became all-consuming to you. Newly diagnosed families often need time to talk, vent and ask questions. Professionals don’t have the time and the after care is seldom there. So when opportunity comes to promote awareness parents of newly diagnosed or young children are often the first to want to be involved. They are desperate for support, inclusion and a sense of being part of something that makes them feel like they are helping their child.

3. Young children are not so aware of what is happening. This is something I am acutely aware of. My son has classic autism with learning difficulties and severe delays. He currently can not speak. His awareness of the world around him is very limited and although that may increase in time he is unlikely to understand difficult concepts like public perception, peer pressure, vulnerability and susceptibility. He may never understand, for example, the implications of having a mother who blogs about it. His twin sister, however, may one day be much more aware. She may have embarrassment, anxiety or upset at the thought of her image being used to promote autism awareness at some point. And I would be wrong to ignore her feelings on the matter. So parents of older children and adults are faced with the issues of protection and permission that parents of small children are not.

4. The more children grow up in a society of inclusion the more they do not wish to be seen as different. As more and more children and young people with autism attend mainstream schools and colleges the more pressure there is on them to not stick out. For many older children and adults autism awareness brings with it the reality that they have not actually been able to overcome their difficulties and somehow their disability is still visible. For a few this will bring major anxiety. For some adults this would involve admitting to work colleagues, neighbours and friends that they have a condition they have yet to discuss. So they would much prefer anonymity. That has to be respected.

5. After years in the system weariness can set in. Can you imagine 20 plus years of lack of sleep? Can you imagine having to fight every day of your child’s life for twenty plus years just to get basic support? Some of these families have been through so many campaigns, so many fundraisers, so many promotions, that they can almost feel it has seemed pointless. They hear stories of families with younger children still fighting for things they fought for many years before and it can become so disheartening so they disengage. But we still need to be aware of them. And we still need to support them.

6. Not all awareness is positive. Parents of older children and adults have come to realise this more and be using wisdom more in how to make people more knowledgable of autism. There is something to be said for this maturity.

As we approach autism awareness day remember, like everything else, we all deal with autism differently. We are all on a journey and sometimes it can appear to just be about children. When you next see an image like this bear in mind that there is a reason why you are seeing a child. But this girl will still have autism when the toy rainbow has long been forgotten. And she will still have autism when awareness day has passed by too.IMG_2182

Does her anxiety look big in this?

image Last year, a week before her fifth birthday, my beautiful daughter was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder. She understands the world very differently. She struggles with changes to routines, has sensory issues, has balance and co-ordination issues, loves repetition, and struggles a lot in social situation, but more than any of these she mostly struggles with severe anxiety. She is anxious every minute of the day, and even through the night.

But unlike physical difficulties which can be plain to see, anxiety is a silent, hidden disability.

Can you tell from her photo she struggles so much with anxiety?

It is well-known adults can have mental health issues. Most people will know someone who seems that bit more ‘stressed’ or anxious about things than others, or who seems very low in mood. There are even medications, both prescribed and off the shelf, for adults who struggle with anxiety, sleep disorders and depression. But what about a young child whose anxiety is just as crippling, whose fears are just as genuine, and who struggles daily with stress?

For so many children with autism this is daily life. The ‘traits’ of autism manifest even more when anxiety is increased. With my daughter that means she clings to me even more, struggles even more with sleep and lines up her toys even more than normal. She withdraws into herself more and her eating becomes even more restricted. She is snappy, uninterested in life and always exhausted. Just like if an adult had no appetite, stopped sleeping, withdrew and had a low mood a doctor, or loved one, would notice something was wrong. Thousands, if not millions, of parents are watching their children struggle with the same thing and there seems to be so little help available.

We are fortunate to already have a diagnosis. We already have a team of professionals involved. Yet when my precious baby girl became so anxious at the transition of starting school she began having severe panic attacks and nose bleeds no-one seemed to know how to help her. Advice was so conflicting from keeping her off school to insisting she went to learn to face her fears. Those who observed her in the school environment reported back that her anxiety was so obvious that she spends all day chewing her tongue. She may be in a mainstream school but I know in my heart it would not matter where she was educated she would still be on constant high anxiety.

So while others have left their infants by the gate from the second day of starting school and went home crying in pride, I had to wait fifteen weeks later before my little one felt ready to take that step alone. Until then I had to hold her hand right up until the moment the school bell rang and she was lined up with all the other children.

Now she is panicking about all the changes involved in the run up to Christmas. Will I remember to come to the play, will she know what to do when her anxiety overcomes her seeing so many people watching the nativity, why are they going to a pantomime instead of doing reading and number work in school, what if a child is off and she wants to give them a Christmas card, why are they having a party, will she have to go see Santa….and so on. Real worries, real fears and causing very real stress to a just turned six-year-old.

I can reassure her. I can prepare her. But I need to balance that by not feeding her fears and allowing them to become even stronger.

She can tell me some of her worries. Many other children with autism can’t.

In two weeks time we have our first meeting with the children’s mental health team. We only got referred because ENT have completed all their tests and concluded her severe nose bleeds have no medical basis and they believe they are directly related to her anxiety. Then her panic attacks were so severe she was struggling to breathe some days. That was back in August and we are only just getting seen in December.

There are days when I hear her laugh and play and read her books to me and I wonder if this can be the same child who becomes distraught if I leave the room to use the bathroom. But you don’t always have to be sad to be stressed. You don’t always have to be house bound to be anxious. And you don’t have to be an adult to struggle with mental health.

We need to recognise that so many children with autism are struggling with anxiety. And we need to have help to support them.

That starts by realising that even when we don’t see it, anxiety is still there: the silent, hidden disability.

Can you see it? Does her anxiety look big in these pictures?

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Still a child

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Dedicated to the wonderful children who are too often defined by diagnosis, difficulties and impairments.

He sits in a wheelchair with a bib around his neck. People talk about him like he isn’t really there. They feed him something without thinking wether he likes it or not. He has no say where they take him or how he is dressed. But just because he can not speak do not assume he can not understand. Give him a chance. Would you treat any other six year old like that? Treat him with respect and love. Let him try. Let him be included. He may be disabled, but he is still a child.

He screams in your face when you touched him. He bit himself when you closed the door. He is flapping his hands at the rain falling at the window and isn’t interested when you say his name. You don’t need to shout louder because he isn’t deaf. As frustrating as it is to watch, losing your temper at him won’t help. People talk about him like he is unaware. They had information about him but never took the time to read it or do anything about it. It was filed away and forgotten. People try and engage on their terms taking no account of his interests or sensory issues. Some even physically remove him or close the blinds.window Where is the respect? Where is the love? He may be disabled but he is still a child.

She lies on the floor trying to roll. People are pushing and pulling her this way and that. Talking over her noises and ignoring her pain. They think they are helping. They talk to each other without looking at her face, her eyes and listening to her cries. They have their agenda, exercises to increase her movement that no-one has involved her in. Their intentions are good. But have they motivated her and relaxed her? Would you expect any other five year old to exercise without motivation or encouragement? She may be disabled but she is still a child.

She stands at the side of the playground watching all the others play. The adults find this concerning so they devise strategies to include her and teach the children to not allow her to be on her own. She is badgered by voices shouting her name and pulling her hands. She is forced to join in, forced to interact when she didn’t want to. Why did no-one ask her what she wanted? Did she lose the right of choice and privacy when they diagnosed her with autism? They think they are helping but no-one thought to find out if she was happier watching and joining in if and when she wanted to. While other children can watch it seems she isn’t allowed. She may struggle socially but she is still a child.

He can’t speak so they buy him toys that they think he should like. No-one thinks to watch him and see what his interests are. He wants to look at a flyer from a frozen food shop but adults deem that wrong and would rather it was a book. When he licks the toys they take them out his mouth and take them away. They set up fancy sets with tiny cars and bricks that he can not hold and expect him to play like any other child. They get upset and annoyed when he brakes them and screams. They put dvd’s on he has no interest in because it is deemed more age appropriate. They think he can not speak so he can not communicate. But he can. He would rather the baby toys still but they are too embarrassed to buy them for a six year old. He may be developmentally delayed, but he is still a child.

He swears at your face when you say hello. He came out of school kicking and screaming and threatening to kill his teacher and classmates. The other children are scared of hi20140225-210850.jpgm and the school threatens the parents with the police. They label him as disobedient, a bully, having challenging behaviour. They yell at him more than they talk to him. He is retrained far more than he is ever hugged. He is isolated from his peers and banned from after school clubs. They try to fix complex problems with behaviour star charts and bribery. He may have difficulties, but he is still a child.

Despite physical, mental and and social difficulties these are all children. Children who deserve time, patience, understanding and love. They have a right to choose, to be educated and respected, to be listened to and included. They deserve to explore the world around them, learn in their own way and play with toys they enjoy. They deserve hugs and tickles and kisses.

Difficulties and diagnosis should never define anyone. Even if they can not feed them self, dress them self, attend to their own needs, speak or struggle with social interaction or behaviour they are still worthy of respect.

Because most of all, they are still a child.

Just imagine if that child was yours.