A Mother's Intuition
Today, Game Teen's school had a Thanksgiving luncheon for all students and their families. The school provided turkey and drinks, and we were asked to bring a side or dessert. (I was quite pleased to see that the entire huge pan of macs and cheese I brought was demolished)
As we're relatively new to the school, I didn't know where to sit, and Chef decided for us, choosing a table with two moms and a gaggle of adorable young ladies and a little brother who was quite charming.
Something nice about having a school (or even an ESE program within a school) is that the parents usually lack the clique mentality you might find when the kids are in a normal environment. Such was the case today.
In less than five minutes, the conversation among we three moms was going like we'd known each other for ages. We talked about what ASD diagnosis our children had and where our child was in treatment approach. What we all had in common, despite our kids having different challenges?
Without fail, all three of us were insisting to our pediatricians that something wasn't right with our child. We couldn't pinpoint exactly what was different, but we knew they weren't like the other children their age when put in an environment with them. In Game Teen's case, he was hitting the Denver Scale milestones early-but that doesn't do more than scratch the surface of social interaction.
We introduced each other by name, but by the end of the meal, we were 'K's mom, S's mom and G's mom,' because we knew that's how our kids would recognize us. We were the last table to leave, too intent on hearing each other's stories. Even though our exact situations were unique, there were enough common threads to make each of us feel as though we'd known each other for a while.
In addition, another mom came up to me while Game Teen and I were in line for our food. "Excuse me, I'm A's mom," and a boy a little older than my son waved at me. "I noticed your son's legs have the same scabs as mine. Does he have a diagnosis for that? No one seems to know what the heck A has-his doctor insists its bug bites."
In fact, two months ago, the supervising Psychiatrist to Game Teen's doctor threw a name of a syndrome. My son met all the criteria but one, so they didn't pursue the diagnosis, but I shared what I knew with the other mom. I asked for her email so I could send her the information I'd gathered.
When you've got a child on the spectrum, many times, you feel adrift without the school based connections the neurotypical parents enjoy. Today, I got connections with others who got it. Not only did we understand each other, we could provide a little support and advice of what works and what doesn't with our kids.
You know, because for years, it was just us who knew something was different. We stored all that information away, knowing that someday, someone else would need that information.
Mother's intuition, you know.
As we're relatively new to the school, I didn't know where to sit, and Chef decided for us, choosing a table with two moms and a gaggle of adorable young ladies and a little brother who was quite charming.
Something nice about having a school (or even an ESE program within a school) is that the parents usually lack the clique mentality you might find when the kids are in a normal environment. Such was the case today.
In less than five minutes, the conversation among we three moms was going like we'd known each other for ages. We talked about what ASD diagnosis our children had and where our child was in treatment approach. What we all had in common, despite our kids having different challenges?
Without fail, all three of us were insisting to our pediatricians that something wasn't right with our child. We couldn't pinpoint exactly what was different, but we knew they weren't like the other children their age when put in an environment with them. In Game Teen's case, he was hitting the Denver Scale milestones early-but that doesn't do more than scratch the surface of social interaction.
We introduced each other by name, but by the end of the meal, we were 'K's mom, S's mom and G's mom,' because we knew that's how our kids would recognize us. We were the last table to leave, too intent on hearing each other's stories. Even though our exact situations were unique, there were enough common threads to make each of us feel as though we'd known each other for a while.
In addition, another mom came up to me while Game Teen and I were in line for our food. "Excuse me, I'm A's mom," and a boy a little older than my son waved at me. "I noticed your son's legs have the same scabs as mine. Does he have a diagnosis for that? No one seems to know what the heck A has-his doctor insists its bug bites."
In fact, two months ago, the supervising Psychiatrist to Game Teen's doctor threw a name of a syndrome. My son met all the criteria but one, so they didn't pursue the diagnosis, but I shared what I knew with the other mom. I asked for her email so I could send her the information I'd gathered.
When you've got a child on the spectrum, many times, you feel adrift without the school based connections the neurotypical parents enjoy. Today, I got connections with others who got it. Not only did we understand each other, we could provide a little support and advice of what works and what doesn't with our kids.
You know, because for years, it was just us who knew something was different. We stored all that information away, knowing that someday, someone else would need that information.
Mother's intuition, you know.
Comments