Who sees the hidden young carers?


As her brother climbed awkwardly into the swing she held it still for him as best she could before gripping the chain and gently pushing it forwards and backwards to keep him happy. For all her brother screams and attacks her and makes her life challenging she never stops wanting to help him and support him. She pushed that swing with all her might (he is 21 pounds heavier than she is) until he tired of it and wanted off.

 
The only one who noticed was me.

 
This is just one example of young children who are living their lives as young carers hidden from the eyes of so many around them.

 
Who sees the hidden young carers like my daughter?

Just days before her brother was having a difficult night. He has complex medical and developmental needs and is unable to communicate using speech. He was distressed and agitated and it was taking both myself and my husband to keep him safe and calm. He had just had a difficult meltdown where things had been thrown and broken and as he gradually calmed we were sorting out the mess and chaos surrounding him. As one of us cleaned up broken glass the other went to check on food that had been quickly left cooking downstairs. On my return I could not find my son in his room and neither could I find my daughter. I stood for a minute when I heard a noise I had not heard for days: children laughing!

His sister had decided to run her brother a bath to cheer him up. She had made sure the water was the right temperature and put in his favourite toys and here she was sitting on the toilet beside him checking he was safe like she was suddenly ten years older than her true years.
The only one who knew she had done that was me.

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Who sees the hidden young carers like my 8 year old daughter?

 
Another night recently my husband had popped out for a bit. My son had been bathed and both children were in their nightclothes when my son suddenly began throwing himself down the stairs screaming hysterically. I ran to him and held him tight as I tried to settle and calm him. His anxiety was at crazy levels and he was inconsolable. He was making so much noise I never heard the front door open and I never saw my 8 year old leave the house in just her pyjamas. The first I knew was when my son pulled me to the stair window and my heart missed a beat seeing my daughter the other side of our street closing someone’s front door. The second that door was closed her brother resumed his flapping and clapping like the world was suddenly back to being right again. When I spoke to my daughter later explaining how leaving the house is dangerous she replied ‘My brother needed me. I was only trying to help him.’ (As a side note I live in a very quiet side street and I am fully aware the door should have been locked. Hindsight is a great thing!) 

I was so glad no-one else saw her and I know she won’t do that again. But it still leaves the question who sees the hidden young carers like her?

 
There are young carers groups out there. They do a wonderful job for many young carers. Yet there remains so many young carers like my daughter who are ‘hidden’ due to a number of reasons.

 
My daughter is not recognised as a young carer because we are a two parent family and it is deemed her level of care for her brother is not ‘substantial’ or regular enough.

She is not recognised as a carer because she herself has some needs and it is deemed that due to these needs she is not able to care for her brother.

Until recently she was not considered to be old enough to be a young carer.

It was felt by professionals that we should not allow her to take on the caring role that she herself has readily and willingly taken on.

 
These are just a few reasons why young carers can be ‘hidden’.

 
Statistics say there are around 700,000 young carers in the U.K. That’s the ones who qualify as young carers but what about all the other precious children who are doing more than they should for a disabled or ill family member and no-one sees or knows?

 
I see my daughter so at least I can be there to support her and thank her even if others don’t.

 
There are 13.3 million disabled people in the UK. I wonder how many of them are being cared for today by a hidden young carer?

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The Life Of An Autism Sibling


In the back hall of a church she watched as her brother climbed a toddler slide. As he sat at the top of the slide flapping he lost his balance and fell off. He was shocked and shaken as he laid there confused and hurt.

While the adults checked him over his sister ran around the room looking for all his favourite teddies, then sat beside him stroking his hair and whispered: You are ok. Don’t be sad. You are ok.
She is smaller than her brother, weaker than him physically, and much more timid in nature.
Yet she is strong. 

She is the sister of a child with autism and that is something very special. 
She copes with screaming and has learnt to be a peace keeper.

She copes with a brother who is controlling and she has learnt to compromise.

She copes with a sibling who rarely sleeps and she has learnt to rest as and when she can.

She copes with the unfairness when her sibling does not understand rules and she has learnt patience and maturity beyond her years.

She copes with aggression and responds with peace.

She copes with his iPad on full volume and responds by showing him how to plug in earphones.

She copes with people staring at him and she smiles at them and puts her arm around her brother in support.


She copes with getting less attention than she deserves and has learnt to play herself to cope.

She instinctively knows and understands now when he is experiencing sensory overload and leads him to a quieter place.

She opens snacks for him because she knows he does not have the co-ordination to do it himself.

She has learnt that he can not join in her games and copes with that disappointment better than many adults would.

She fights her brothers corner.
She keeps him safe.

She changes the TV channel when he screams at a show he does not like.

She even makes hand dryers work for him because she knows how much he likes them.

The life of an autism sibling is not easy. They are often over looked and expected to cope. They miss out on so much because of the needs of their sibling and have to adjust to family life dominated by an invisible condition. A lot is expected of them beyond what other kids deal with.

It takes strength to cope when your brother screams daily. It takes strength to understand certain toys can not be bought because they pose a danger to your sibling. It takes strength and maturity to realise and accept that having friends around to play may be more difficult than it is for others.

To watch your brother or sister struggle with something you do easily and not boast about this, to stand up for your sibling when others mock them, to cope with public meltdowns and not be embarrassed: you are amazing! 
Let’s hear it for the autism siblings! You all deserve the lime light for once!

My children have autism: I need therapy more than they do.


I remember the very first day I admitted to myself that my children were struggling. They were both 18 months old and neither of them were walking. One never gave eye contact not did he interact much and he had no language. The other could not crawl or roll or even pull herself up. Both relied on routine for everything!

 
I remember one Friday late afternoon making a call to my health visitor and leaving a tearful message on his answer phone.
Looking back that afternoon epitomises the entire point of this blog. Here was I in tears worried about my children while they were happy sitting on the couch watching TV.

 

They were happy…it was me who was sad.


As time went on and appointments started piling up for them both it became quickly apparent that I needed to do every bit as much as my children. Occupational therapists gave ME exercises to do with them, speech and language therapists sent ME on a course while the children were happy at home in their routine with babysitters. The paediatrician gave ME advice while only briefly examining my twins. Early intervention support relied on ME doing more with the children to ‘bring them on’. It felt clearly that I was to blame.

 

While my son scanned object after object across his eye line repetitively, happy doing his own thing, I was silently breaking my heart. When all the other children ran into nursery while my daughter needed carried in, I was the one who emotionally struggled.

 

When my non verbal, not toilet trained, highly delayed son started full time school years later he settled much quicker than I did. He assumed everyone would look after him while I knew otherwise. He had no awareness of the danger of getting into a taxi without mum (he hardly acknowledged who I was) nor any concept of what school was and just went with the flow. Meanwhile my anxiety rose to a whole new level knowing I was unable to know anything about his day, who he was with, what he had eaten or wether or not people were looking after my vulnerable baby.

 
I needed support to help me with that constant anxiety. 

 
When my son has extreme meltdowns lasting hours and he is unable to communicate why, that affects us both. The fact I now have an 8 year old who I still can not communicate with on any meaningful level has damaged me.

 
I need help to work through my feelings of failure. 

 
When I see other children riding bikes, playing with friends, going to dancing or any other of hundreds of ‘normal’ things both my children really struggle with my heart breaks.

 
I need people to understand that some times I need to mourn for the things my children will never achieve.

 
My body is carrying a heavy load. I am on full alert 24/7. I have professionals watching our every move, quick to point out if they feel my children’s struggles are down to my parenting. My mind is constantly alert thinking of our next appointment, the next thing I need to prepare my children for or the next person I need to chase up. After years that affects your body and your mind in ways you can not control.

 
I have had counselling and also have to take tablets to keep depression at bay. My thyroid is whacked and my blood pressure keeps rising. My adrenal glands are failing.

 
My doctors tell me to ‘rest’ but autism never rests. As a parent to two children with autism I can not afford to rest. There is no time off.

 
My children are generally happy. The world they live in is safe and predictable. I need to keep it that way to protect them. They need me. The reality is they always will.

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They are perfect the way they are. They don’t even see themselves as different. It is because I am NOT autistic that I see things differently. I see how they could be mistreated and abused. I see them struggling to get jobs. I see my son requiring support all his life and never living independently. I see their vulnerability. I see their lack of social understanding. I see their need for constant routine. I see their naivety.

 
They don’t need therapy to help them cope with any of that. But I do. 

Five Christmas gifts to give to a special needs parent

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I used to think it was only children who were asked in December ‘what would you like for Christmas?‘. It seems as a parent I still get asked this. I tend to answer like most parents do with a simple ‘oh I have everything I need already thanks’ or the soppy mum variation of ‘my kids are all I could ever want and more.’

Both are true to an extent. My life is very full of smiles, blessings, love and joy but as a full time carer for two children with extra needs life is also very full of other things like hospital appointments, meetings, therapy and endless paperwork!

So what would be good Christmas presents for a special needs parent like me?

How about the following:

1. A listening ear.
We all have our own burdens to carry and none of us are without problems in life, yet so often we become so engrossed in our own busyness we forget to take time to listen to others. Giving me your time to just talk while you listen without judgement or trying to ‘fix’ things is one of the greatest gifts I could get all year round. Come visit me at home while we have coffee, or sit with me in the hospital waiting room. I may seem like I am coping but silently I pray for someone who cares enough to listen to my worries and my struggles. If you can’t physically be with me being at the end of a phone or even letting me let off steam via email or message is such a precious gift. You may not be able to wrap up your ears under the tree but if you could loan me them sometimes that would be amazing.

2. A shoulder to cry on.
Some days are just overwhelming. Some mornings by the time I have managed to get the children safely to school I am exhausted and emotional. Lack of sleep, worry for the future and constant battles on behalf of my children become weary. I, like so many other special needs parents, long for a safe and tender place to cry where we feel free and accepted to pour out our hearts. We need that release in order to gain strength to face another day. We need to let the stress come out in our tears knowing there is no shame in showing weakness. Could you be those shoulders? Will you let me cry without question and hand me the tissues without needing to tell me I am over reacting? That would be a gift that can not be measured this Christmas.

3. An encouraging word.
Few people truly realise how negative the world of special needs parenting can be. Forms ask for things your child is unable to do, assessments focus on your child’s shortfalls, teachers comment on how your child is not hitting targets like the others. Hospital appointments bring news that breaks your heart and even the simplest appointments like the dentist are utterly draining. Then add the guilt that your child can’t talk, or walk yet or play like other children. While other children achieve at sports, or drama or art your child excels more at loud outbursts, screaming endlessly or staying awake all night. Encouraging words are few and far between in my world so a little text, or message or a simple smile goes a long long way to helping brighten my day. An unexpected card saying ‘I care’ is like an oasis in a drought. It is beautiful, precious and priceless. You simply can’t give this gift often enough to a special needs parent.

4. Practical help.
I would never expect anyone else to have to see to my children’s personal needs nor do I expect anyone to be up all night long with them. However, there are some small very practical things though that anyone can do for a special needs parent that can make a huge difference. How about holding the door open when you see them pushing a wheelchair? Or holding the lift to save them waiting longer with a distressed child? If you see them carrying a child into a car seat in the supermarket car park why not offer to take their trolley back for them? These small gestures of kindness mean the world to someone who often feels ignored or invisible. Kindness and practical support never ever go unnoticed to a special needs parent and they restore our faith in humanity. Christmas is an ideal time to make a special effort to help the special needs parent as places are busier, louder and more chaotic than usual but remember a little help all year round would never go amiss.

5. Finally be respectful.
It is so easy at this time of year when the weather is awful and time is tight to just park in that disabled space for two minutes while you just nip in for bread. You may never ever think of doing that at any other time but for me as a parent of two disabled children this is a time when I need those spaces even more so. The same with the disabled toilet. I understand this time of year means most public toilets have queues and you don’t mean to upset anyone. However, these facilities are so precious to families like mine and our loved ones need that space and privacy to have their personal needs met by someone else. We don’t have the privilege of being able to wait. Please don’t push that disabled trolley away in your haste to get to the smaller on at the back. Having a soaking wet trolley may be annoying to you but to those of us who rely on specialist seating for our disabled children having an icy, snowy seat prohibits us from going shopping at all. Your thoughts and respect at Christmas mean a lot.

I realise now I do actually want a few things for Christmas this year. I want friendship, time, love and respect and those are not things money can buy, yet they are the most special and perfect gifts any special needs parent could want not just at Christmas but throughout the year.

Could you give me any of these? Do you know a special needs parent who could do with some Christmas magic? Let them know you care today. It could make this Christmas the best one they have ever had.

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This post first appeared here

How setting up a just giving page changed things for my family.

Most of us find it very difficult to ask for help. It is often seen as a sign of weakness in society and a sign that you are desperate.

Recently I found myself asking for help for that very reason; I was desperate.

I had to let go of my pride and allow others the opportunity to support me.

 

Gwynne - 20151003 -33 - highWe were going through a time of crisis as a family as my son’s MRI results showed upsetting results with his eye sight. As well as autism my son has the genetic condition neurofibromatosis type 1 and a routine scan showed one eye has microphthalmia and his other eye has an optic glioma. Both are very significant conditions that require long term care and close maintenance and both can leave him blind. Currently one eye has next to no vision already.
He is non verbal with classic autism. He has global developmental delay and sensory processing difficulties. He has severe learning difficulties. Life is not easy for him.

My daughter also has autism and huge anxiety. She has mental health struggles and an eating disorder.

Both children require a lot of support and I am a full time carer for them.

My sons challenging behaviour and my daughters anxiety meant they would both benefit enormously from a room to relax and chill out in. We were regulars at special needs places and I knew both of them loved visiting sensory rooms. I wondered if having one of our own would help them.

I looked into costs, funding, ways to build one and equipment that would benefit them both. The financial costs made me cry. Even with funding support it was impossible for us to build a sensory room on our own. Then I came across just giving.

I hesitated.

Was it right to ask others to support us when there are so many other good causes out there? Could I swallow my pride and allow others to help? Would anyone even care?

Almost reluctantly I set up the page and put it on my social media. As people began to give I cried again. With every donation I wanted to hug people. Every email notification on my phone make my heart skip a beat.

Just giving showed me people cared.
Just giving showed me we were not alone.
Just giving enabled people who don’t even know us to invest in my family.
Just giving reconnected me with friends and relatives I had lost contact with as word spread and my image was shared.
Just giving made my dream of a sensory room for my autistic twins come true.

By the end of the 30 days our target was not only met but exceeded. We had a custom build shed made and installed and ordered the equipment with excitement and gratitude.

 

It IS making a difference. More than I ever imagined it would. Every single penny given has been used and has changed my family.

When my son is frustrated he has somewhere to go and calm down that relaxes him and excites him.
When my daughters anxiety gets too overwhelming she has somewhere to go to destress away from people and events that overload her.
It has enhanced and developed their relationship and brought joy to my entire family.

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The room will grow with them and change to meet their needs as required.

 

Instead of crying we are now dancing together. We are more relaxed as a family thanks to every single person who clicked ‘donate’ on our page.

Just giving changed my family. It was hard to let people help but so worth it.

Asking for help is not a sign of weakness, it is really a sign of strength. Never be afraid of letting others help make your dream come true.

Just look how happy my children are in the sensory room.

Thank you to everyone who made this possible.

TOTS100 - UK Parent Blogs
TOTS100

 

How a church changed summer for one special needs family

 

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One email.

That was all it took.

A lot of courage but just one email.

Last summer was so hard and I knew I could not face it again so I swallowed my pride and dropped my Church office a note.

‘Could anyone help me out?…’

They responded quickly. They responded lovingly. They reached out and changed my entire summer.

A few weeks before the schools broke up I was asked to meet with them. They had ideas and I had ideas and we discussed simple ways people, many we hardly knew, could help us through the challenges of seven weeks holiday with two complex needs children.

I suggested perhaps one meal a week that I didn’t have to cook or prepare. They went above and beyond and hand delivered up to three meals a week, some of them arriving still hot and ready to be served. Roast chicken, bolagnaise, curry, home made cakes, puddings, side dishes and sometimes even a starter too! That someone would take the time to buy ingredients, cook a meal and deliver it just for us is truly overwhelming. Every little pea, or grain of rice shared spoke of love in action.

It was suggested that people could sit with my children to allow my husband and myself an hour for a coffee. One hour during the holidays would have been amazing but once again they went one step further and my children looked forward with excitement to the two ‘best babysitters’ who came once a week for a couple of hours whatever the weather. Two hours out of their week but that time to me was like a wave of respite and sanctuary in a stormy ocean. It also had the added bonus that every Sunday my children ran to the two woman, desperate to see them again and connect with them even more. Every minute of time spent together sowing seeds of love that will change both my children and the precious ladies.

imageAnother couple invited me to bring the children to her house one day. Neither of us were to know it would be the hottest day of the summer and the children had a wonderful time in a paddling pool (well my son preferred a plastic crate!) and watering plants. Precious memories for me, the children, but also for the couple who also enjoyed a wonderful day shared with friends. My children were able to be themselves without imagepressure or stress and their needs almost disappeared as quickly as the water did from the paddling pool when my son decided to tip it out! One day; a million memories made.

I mentioned at the meeting that there was one day I could not even begin to face that summer. It was a day I had dreaded for months as I could see no practical solution in sight. I had a very important hospital appointment to attend in a hospital miles from home that would take hours. Due to the treatment I needed it was not possible for the children to attend. The appointment could not be cancelled and I had no idea how I was going to do it. In stepped the church once again with a plan. What did my children like doing? Where was their favourite place to go? What do they like eating? And so, with tears in my eyes, a plan was formed. My non verbal, severely autistic, lift loving son, would get to go on his favourite lift tour on a train to the city with three adults to support him. I would provide nappies, clothes, money and anything else and they would provide the manpower. Meanwhile my autistic, nervous, selective mute daughter would be looked after at home in the comfort of her own surroundings to keep her anxiety at bay. How do you ever replay people for giving you something like that? It would be no exaggeration to call them angels.

imageIn among this I received texts of encouragement, prayers, hugs and someone even delivered nappies that they saw advertised for free on social media and thought about me and my son immediately. In fact I felt so encouraged I began fundraising to build my children a sensory room and with the help of the church all the funds were raised within just four weeks. We are currently building that now.

This summer has been so different to any other. For the first time I have not felt isolated, forgotten or alone. My church changed summer for my special needs family and I can not thank them enough.

Matthew 25:40 (NIV) “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”

A thank you letter to the friend who told me I had depression

My dear friend,

It was just after my children had returned to school after the long summer holidays. The weather was still decent and the house quiet, yet I had no motivation.

Summer with two children with autism had drained me. There just seemed to be nothing left of me to give. I sat on the couch with a cup of tea and logged onto social media. It was my escape.

All you did was start a chat.

“How are you?”

I was fine. Of course I was fine. I was just tired after seven weeks of non stop coping with my children day and night. I adore my children. They were now back at school and routine was re-established so why would I be anything else but contented, happy and relaxed.

We chatted briefly for a bit while I scrolled through pics of smart children in uniforms, smiling selfies and the usual other tweets and statuses. Today I was just not feeling it for some reason.

I was exhausted. I convinced myself that was it. It was the change from having a noisy, chaotic house for seven weeks to having silence. It was the lack of sleep that comes with having children with autism. It was the one too many meltdowns I had dealt with. It was the isolation of summer. It was the facing another school year of my son still not speaking. It was the thought of another term full of meetings, forms, homework, appointments and even more meetings. It was the anxiety of wondering how my children were coping with huge changes and the thought of how they would be when they came home and we had the brunt of all that stress. It was wondering how to reconnect with my husband who I had barely had a chance to speak to for seven weeks alone. A mix of everything; that was what was wrong today. Tomorrow I would be fine.

An hour or so later, and still sitting on that sofa, my doorbell rang.

Of course it was you.

“I’m worried about you.”

So we chatted face to face for a bit. I just needed a down day I told you. Let me catch up with some sleep and get my house in order and all will be fine. Maybe I just need to get my hair cut or something? Perhaps a bit of retail therapy would get my spark back?

“Perhaps you should go see your doctor?” You said.

Why would my doctor want to see me? Antibiotics or painkillers won’t help me. I don’t feel ‘ill’?

“You may be depressed?”

Who me? Really?

I called the doctor in the end, if nothing else just to get you off my back.

Thank you for pushing me. Thank you for caring enough to reach out to me. Thank you for noticing me struggling.

Yes, you were right, I was depressed. I never expected that. Maybe you did? Maybe you were able to see something I couldn’t?

I am not sure if you remember that day as much as I do? It was seven months ago now but it changed my life. The doctor gave me tablets and I am so much stronger, more motivated and happier now.

One day I may be well enough to come off them. For now the stress and strain of everyday life with two young children with autism means I need them. I am not ashamed of that. Why should I be?

I am just ashamed I never sought help sooner.

I will never forget you my friend. I have not seen you in person for a while now but you were there at the right time and I am grateful for that.

You taught me to look after myself. You also taught me that sometimes love and care means stepping out when you think someone is struggling.

I just want you to know that I am looking out for others now just as you looked out for me.

You taught me that sometimes others can have an insight that the person themselves can not see.

You taught me that friendship and social media can be a way to spot things in others and help them.

You were more than a virtual friend, you were there when I needed you.

Thank you again.

I really hope all is well with you and yours.

In gratitude forever,

One of your social media friends.

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