Becoming the Parent Your Child Needs

We don’t blend in, this kid and me.

Not that we ever did, but I’ll admit when he was smaller it was easier.

We got by with the graces people bestow on toddlers and energetic kindergarteners.

But 11. Well, 11 is a whole different story.

A tween.

Eleven is four feet, eight inches tall.

Eleven is feet that can slip my shoes on to run out the door.

Eleven is shared sweatshirts with mom. T-shirts sometimes too.

Eleven is big and loud and noticeable. Because eleven is a boy. A growing boy. With ideas and thoughts and things to say and do.

I used to care a lot when people stared at my son. At us. I would start to sweat and my face would turn red.

I would always feel it in my stomach first. The stares. Then the heat on my cheeks. Then the sweat down my back.

See, back then, I wanted to blend in. I wanted to live in my own safe place, quiet, and easy.

I didn’t like standing out. Speaking out doesn’t come naturally to me. My skin hasn’t always been thick. My purpose hasn’t always been so obvious.

But my kid changed all that. He threw me into a world I knew nothing about. One that didn’t make any sense to me. One that had me wondering what way was up.

One I wanted to escape from at times.

Why? Because I was scared. Standing out put us in the spotlight. Front and center and open to scrutiny.

But age 11. Oh, age 11. Beautiful age 11. My eyes were finally opened to the possibility that existed in the in-between world.

This kid.

He wasn’t born to blend it. He wasn’t born to sit quietly and watch the world. He makes his presence known. That’s my boy.

When he’s happy he shows it. He will hug and dance and clap and scream with joy. It’s infectious I tell ya.

He will wave to strangers with huge smiles.

He will give high fives too, running from person to person, clumsily swatting at their hands.

He will sit when he’s tired. Anywhere. When he’s done he’s done. He can also sleep anywhere too. Especially if he’s bored with you. Or to avoid work.

It’s a gift I tell you. He will lie down right there and go to sleep.

His tears flow faster than most. And they are loud. But they also stop just as fast.

His frustration from living in a world he doesn’t always understand, well, we are working on that one the most.

He can make any space his own too. He will spread out and organize his treasures in the most fascinating way.

I learned last year if he is struggling that it makes a big difference when I join his world. Instead of rushing him through we take a break. We leave this busy world and go to his.

I sit with him. Or lie with him. On the floor. In the middle of the pediatrician’s office or the grocery store. It’s like a reset for him.

We feel the itchy carpet with our hands or put our cheeks to cool linoleum. And it helps. It grounds him.

I can’t remember the last time we blended in. This kid and me. But I do remember the last time I cared.

And that’s the real test parents. The real journey.

Becoming the parent your child needs. Work towards that.

I swear you’ll never care about blending in again. Because the tiny human you are with, the one who in my world is as tall as his grandma, is the best.

And we are here together.

Standing out.

Finding Cooper’s Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you’re never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village….all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to our journey. Follow us on Facebook, Instagram, and join our supporter page, Coop’s Troops, for an amazing community full of support and understanding.