woman and man in mini van

photo: The Althaus Life Blog

In a world where the answer is always at your fingertips, and everyone has an opinion of you, it’s hard to figure out who you are sometimes. It’s even harder to find that inner voice that reminds you that you are strong, funny, and worthy with the outside noise of jealousy and disgust is always looming.

We are a very “Keeping up with Joneses” generation. When planning out my life, I had that mentality. I wanted my life to be better than I ever could have imagined and I have a very specific, and very vain list of how I was going to make it so. From marrying a 6’5 athlete who loved his mother to wanting to live in a neighborhood in the swankiest area of where we live, I had very low, materialistic expectations of how I wanted to live my life. Those were my ideas of success.

Then I dated 6’5 losers, the area I had dreamed of living in turned out to be nothing but full of holier than thou hypocrite judgers that would make life miserable. Even if we could afford to live in that area I’d take a hard pass, fast. The life I have isn’t what I pictured or what I thought I wanted but it turned out to be everything I wanted. I’ve fought hard for the simple life that in my earlier years I thought I wouldn’t have wanted. I married the quiet guy who makes me laugh on the daily, supports any crazy idea I may have and loves me and our kids fiercely.

We live in a tiny ranch house. We’ve looked to upgrade it in big ways but at the end of the day, our tiny ranch house is perfect for us. We live in a village that’s mostly families who have the same, full of contentment dream. One thing I’ve learned over the years and that’s become more blatantly obvious is it’s not the things that matter but the people and how the area you live in makes you feel. Where we live it’s less “Keeping up with Joneses,” and more keeping up with our kids and their needs and dreams.

It’s less, “We have to get Cam here and Roy there” and more filling our lives with activities we all love and more taking it easy to figure out what our kids like and focus on that. I love the simple life we’ve built. It’s still challenging thanks to the autism side of it and the three-nager we currently have but it’s a crazy fun balance that I wouldn’t change.

I hope my younger self is proud of the way our life took a turn. It’s not a life she would have ever pictured but it’s a good one. So marry the nerdy guy. The one that lets you unapologetically yourself. The one that seems to have his life together way more than you. The one that shows up at midnight at your darkest moment. The one who sleeps on the couch with you when you’re too sick to get to bed. The one that still makes you laugh, post-kids, and you wet your pants a little. The one who speaks three-nager and is the best hostage negotiator.

The life that you imagined doesn’t have to be the life you have. The life I have is a million times better than what I ever dreamed. I’m grateful that I said yes to the short, quiet guy who loves his own mama but loves the family he’s made more. We have everything we need. We work hard together as a team which is what I needed. There are days we don’t like each other. But we still show up. I think that’s the secret. You show up on your worst day so your partner can be their best. We are always making what feels like life and death decisions. We believe in Murphy’s law a lot. We cry until we laugh. Laugh until we cry. It can be the dumbest thing that we’re laughing about.

If you’re single. I hope you find that person. It’s not about materialistic things. It’s about the person who shows up for you when the world turns its back on you. They are the ones who lay on the floor with you when you aren’t sure how you’re going to take your next breath. They love you and your kids fiercely. They admit when things are hard or when they’re struggling. They support you in your dreams and goals no matter how crazy they may sound. I hope you marry the person that makes you feel all the things—the person that allows you to be unapologetically you.

Jeremy is that for me. I didn’t believe in soulmates and love at first sight. I believed you truly could make it work with anyone if you put the effort in. Then one random Tuesday, a quiet, sweet guy walked into a coffee shop and my heart was like, “Well he’s different in a way that I need in my life!” and here we are almost 8 years later. I’m blessed beyond measure because a guy with his life together took a chance on me the biggest hot mess. I’ll forever be grateful.

This post originally appeared on The Althaus Life Blog.

 

Lindsey is a mom, wife, and blogger at The Althaus Life. She lives in Ohio with her husband and 2 children. Lindsey is grateful all things and to be able to chronicle her beautifully broken laugh til you cry cry until you laugh life.

su·per·he·ro /ˈso͞opərˌhirō/ noun A benevolent fictional character with superhuman powers, such as Superman

The word Superhero is a common word used in our house these days. My son has developed a love and often fixates on “superheroes” from Batman, Green Lantern, Spider-Man, Captain America, and more. And for those of you with loved one’s on the spectrum, you understand when I say that love runs deep!

He often needs his superheroes as a token during transitional times… from the house to the car…from the car to school. Bedtime sometimes isn’t a reality until LEGO Batman has been found and is safely in his hands, tucked into bed with him. I looked at the definition of “superhero”  and I got caught on one word, “fictional.”

In my son’s world, superhero’s aren’t fictional. They are very much a living, breathing part of his reality. So much so, that the absence of them can send our world spinning. Their very presence can make a stressful situation of transition easier and in the same breath, with one quick flip, they can add more stress with their absence. And at the moment, there is nothing fictional about our present reality and daily struggles with autism. Calm to upset…happy to sad..content to active.

But, I can’t help but think to myself “How does this superhuman navigate all these emotions and still smile at my silly jokes?”  Still willing to trust me when I get frustrated and raise my voice in the midst of a meltdown? Still continue to wake up with a clean slate, ready to love and start the day, no matter how traumatic bedtime was the night before?

And then I go back to that word, “fictional.” Because now I realize superheroes aren’t just a reality in his world, they are a reality in mine as well. In my world, there lives the strongest, most benevolent superhero of all. He embodies all the characteristics of what describes a superhero—brave, strong, resilient, and admirable. He is someone I look up to every day. He inspires me more than any other person in the world. He is superhuman. And most importantly, no part of him or autism ever has or ever will be viewed as fictional. I have a real-life superhero in our house and he goes by the name, Murphy. And he has already saved me in so many ways.

 

This post originally appeared on Adventures in Autism with Murphy.

Shannon is a proud boy mom, Hairstylist, and passionate Autism Advocate. She lives in New Orleans, Louisiana with her two sons Murphy (5) and Merrick (2).  Murphy was diagnosed with Autism at the age of 3. Follow her family as they journey through Autism together on Adventures in Autism with Murphy Facebook and Instagram page. 

It’s been four years since my son Stalen was diagnosed on the autism spectrum. He was 21 months old. I remember he was wild in the room as we waited for the doctor to come in and speak with us. He was throwing toys and picking crumbs from the carpet. He was pulling single plastic gloves from a box hanging on the wall. I was trying to hold myself together with strict composure but could feel the lump in my throat and the anxiety deep in the pit of my stomach.

The doctor calmly told me that Stalen was being diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder. I didn’t hear anything else even though I kept looking at the doctor and nodding and he kept talking. After a minute or two, he asked me if I had any questions. I smiled weakly and said no.

I had to sign a confirmation of diagnosis form which is forwarded on for services. My hand trembled as I wrote my name. I was so shook I didn’t even date the form like your supposed to. I took Stalen and high tailed it out of there.

I couldn’t wait for the solace of my vehicle. I remember the strong smell of a man’s cologne in the elevator. I was close to breaking. I remember fumbling through my purse for change for the parking pay Center. Ugh! Why do I always carry so much unnecessary crap in my purse?!?!

Finally, in the car, I grabbed my sunglasses even though it was a cloudy day in January. I wanted to conceal the tears slowly rolling down my cheeks. I looked in my rear-view mirror and there he was…my sweet baby. My whole world, in his own world. He was smiling, and staring off out the window. Oblivious to it all.

I took three exhilarating deep breaths. I felt them in my toes. Those minutes in that doctor’s office had completely drained me to my core, I was attempting to refill my tank.

I had known for a couple of months without a doubt that he was autistic. But I had also known forever that he was amazing.

At that moment, things were different but really the same.

I was still me and he was always him.

There was no more wondering, it was confirmed. We were going to get the supports and services we so desperately needed. He was my little boy to love and nurture and teach things to. I knew he would do it all, but he would just do it in a different way-his way, in a different time and space.

I didn’t know much about autism.

I didn’t know what the future would look like.

I didn’t have all the answers but hoped for clarity over time.

I was completely certain of only one thing though. On that day, I knew my son just like I had known him from the very moment he took his first breath into the world.

I knew he needed me and I knew I needed him and that was enough for me to start the car and take us home.

This post originally appeared on Stalen’s Way Blog.

I am a proud wife, ASD Mom, Step-Mom. At 21 months, my son was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder. He is 5 years old and non-verbal. I have become a full-time stay-at-home mom. I am 1000% focused on raising autism awareness and helping my son live a full and fun life. 

Most days you can find me somewhere in the middle of hope at the intersection of not knowing what I’m doing nor where I’m going. This is the life I’ve grown accustomed to—the autism life.

Covid-19 isn’t my first “new normal.” Receiving an autism spectrum disorder diagnosis for my son three years ago was.

In an instant, our priorities and responsibilities changed, and our entire world as we knew it was rocked by autism. My son Stalen was diagnosed on the spectrum at twenty-one months. He is considered non-verbal. Today, he is a handsome, loving, and all-around amazing five-year-old. I can’t begin to try to put into words the love I have for him.

He is my world. 

So, here I am three years into this journey with him and I still struggle.

Some days, things fall into place and I breathe easy as if someone handed me a GPS, I have a full tank of gas and I know exactly where I’m heading and how to get there. I’m confident and I can even push my luck and turn on cruise control. But then, out of nowhere, a freaking detour. No idea where I’m going, I’ve never been down this road before.

I’m feeling anxious and uncertain, the gas light is on and I’m certain I’m completely lost. I’m a total mess! 

But there it is, that familiar voice of hope in my head, giving me direction, a chance to catch my breath, guiding me and propelling me forward with the promise of better days and the desire to be braver as I try again. 

You know that voice…..

The one you hear every time you’re lost.  

The one you hear at three a.m. when you’re beyond exhausted and your child is awake, ready for the day and demanding chocolate milk and chicken nuggets. 

The voice that attempts to calm your anxiety on your way to another appointment, or after a bad day.  

The voice that tells you that it won’t always be like this. 

The voice that tells you that tomorrow will be better. 

The voice that tells you that you can do hard things. 

The voice that tells you to wipe your tears and try again. 

The voice that encourages you to go all-in when you’re all out. 

And just when you think that voice is gone, when you think “I’m done”, “I can’t do this” it creeps up in photos of better times in your Facebook memories or in the comforting, encouraging words of friends on similar journeys. 

It’s hidden in the comforting smile of a stranger when your child is in a full-blown public meltdown. 

It dwells deep within your tribe of supporters and encouragers. It is tightly wrapped around the words, “I get it” and “I understand” or “how can I help?”

Hope always finds a way. 

It’s in the actions of neighbors who turn their Christmas lights on in July because your child loves them or it shines brightly in the form of “happy packages” left on your front step to cheer up your son. 

It’s the voice of your child saying “Mama” for the first time or even when he says “bum.” 

It’s even hidden amongst the smiles and gasps when you present him with new shoes. 

Yes, the bad times are really bad.

But, the hope that sneaks through during those times when you are forced out of desperation to look for it, is so much better.

Hope is the air we breathe during survival mode. 

It is the diamond in the rough. 

Autism has taught me to find, search, appreciate, fight for, and to hold on to hope like no other experience or situation in my life. 

The progress, the memories, the firsts, the moments that you never thought would happen but they did, the sleepless nights you lived to tell about, the kindness, love, and acceptance of family, friends, and strangers. 

Just like we need to find the joy, we also need to harness the hope. 

So, now when I find myself at that freaking detour sign, I have no idea where I am or what I’m doing…I do know I will find my way back somewhere in the middle of hope.

I always do. 

This post originally appeared on Finding Cooper's Voice.

I am a proud wife, ASD Mom, Step-Mom. At 21 months, my son was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder. He is 5 years old and non-verbal. I have become a full-time stay-at-home mom. I am 1000% focused on raising autism awareness and helping my son live a full and fun life. 

Photo: MamaZen

It is no secret that life suddenly starts throwing nothing but fastballs and curveballs when you become a parent. At least that’s how it feels most of the time, and most likely, you feel like you’re swinging at the pitches blindly. As parents, we get to the point where we’re so tired of trying to make one hit that we end up getting frustrated and burnt-out. Unfortunately, this stress ends up showing itself in negative ways, like our interactions with our children. The patient parenting approach strives to adapt the way we respond to our children, and in turn, we end up feeling better.

But, being a patient parent is sometimes easier said than done, like when you discover your toddler playing fashion designer with your new dress and some magic markers. However, with a little focus on these four key areas, you can develop a patient parenting technique that works for you and your kids.

1. Stay Calm 
Before you can be a more patient parent, you need to think about the basics; stay calm and breathe. Our kids have an incredible ability to push our buttons at all the wrong moments, but often, what really gets us worked up is our reaction. Although it’s challenging, focus on your response and try hard to take a breath before you react.

Whether your baby won’t go to bed, or your kid is having a meltdown in aisle three, or your toddler just won’t stop saying the word “why,” ask yourself, is this situation really the end-of-the-world? Is it worth you turning into a wild beast? Start to practice ways to help stay calm when these frustrating situations arise.

2. Relinquish Control
Many times, what tends to add to impatience is a sense that you’re losing control. When something doesn’t go as planned, yet you insist on trying to make it work, you likely end up getting even more aggravated and stressed. But, if you were able to give up the need to be in control and recognize that life will always throw you curveballs, you might be surprised to discover you don’t get as bent out of shape about the issue. Basically, you never know what might happen, so being able to roll with the punches can help you increase your patience in the long run.

3. Develop Empathy
You might already be working on teaching your child about empathy, but have you thought about your own sense of empathy? Sometimes, when you lose your cool with your kids, you might want to launch immediately into a lecture (or tirade), but what if you made the mindful decision to talk with your children instead of yell at them? Ask your child why he did what he did, what he was thinking, and try to see things from his perspective before you start to discuss the situation with him.

4. Practice Self-Care
It’s the absolute hardest thing for all moms to do, but it’s also the most important; take care of yourself. Think about it—if you’re tired, stressed, hungry, exhausted, and miserable, then how on earth can you have any hope of being patient? It’s no wonder you lose it if your kid even thinks about throwing her broccoli at the dog. As challenging as it is, self-care has to be a part of your life. Plus, if it helps, look at it as ultimately doing something for your kids because when you’re happy, they’re happy.

Indeed, patient and parenting are not often words you find in the same sentence when you’re a parent, but with a little focus and help from a resource like MamaZen, you can make patient parenting a way of life.

 

This post originally appeared on MamaZen.

Jake Y. Rubin, M.A, is a Board Certified Hypnotherapist, a former university professor of psychology, and a recognized expert in hypnosis and hypnotherapy with degrees in Psychology from UCLA and the California School of Professional Psychology at Alliant International University. He is the founder of the MamaZen app.

 

Photo: Trista Heffner

There are so many things I want to tell you, but it’s so hard—I don’t even know where to begin.

Ever since I was little, I dreamed of becoming a Mom. In fact, until just before I graduated high school, the only job I ever had was babysitting. Caring for kids has always been a passion of mine. I prayed for you for so long. There was a long stretch of time that I didn’t think it was going to happen.

After what seemed like forever, by medical intervention and God’s grace, that beautiful pink line finally appeared. I know now that the long wait for your arrival was just the first of many lessons in patience for me. Being your Mom has taught me so much. You are extremely aware of the emotions around you. You remind me when I’m being too loud. You become anxious. You know when I’m feeling sad. You keep a very close eye on me. You know when I’m relaxed and genuinely happy. You never short the laughter. You’ve shown me the need to slow down. My favorite is when I’ve been so busy doing things and you just grab my hand and pull me away from whatever I’m doing and sit me on the couch. Most of the time that is as far as it goes. You just want me sitting next to you. You remind me in your own way to take a break. You amaze me every day with your resilience. Your dedication to keep trying until perfection. Many of our hard times are you becoming frustrated with something you are trying to do or working on but don’t have the answer yet. Like somehow you failed. The anxiety takes over. You get overwhelmed. It breaks my heart when it takes over and you don’t have the words to explain what’s going on or how I can help. A million things race through my head. What can I do for you? At the moment, nothing that comes to mind feels like enough.

So, I sit there with my arms wrapped around you holding you through the frustration, the tears, the flaps, and the kicks. Reminding you that you are doing a great job. To take deep breaths. I’m here to help, always. We’re in this together. They say “Actions speak louder than words”  and that couldn’t be more true.

You have taught me so much, to not forget to take a breath. To calm myself when something is getting the best of me. You might not have all of the words yet but you show me, day after day, that love needs no words. I am so proud of you. I am proud to be your Mom. I am proud to be your voice. I am proud to share your story. The real. The raw. The joy.

I am proud to raise awareness. Because awareness leads to understanding. Understanding leads to acceptance. That is my dream for you and all the other amazing kids out there. Acceptance. And for this world to be a little kinder. To see you through my eyes for the amazing, smart, sweet, and loving person that you are. I’m so glad God chose me to be your Mom.

This post originally appeared on Hurricane Heffners.

Trista is a mother of two, Allayna and David. David was diagnosed with moderate ASD. She is married to her husband Drew and they live in Wisconsin where she works full-time from home. She enjoys spending time with her family, large amounts of coffee and sharing her family's journey.

Photo: Elizabeth North

As a child, did you ever wake early with anticipation? Were you one of the children who rushed to see exactly what was under the tree? I was. Patience was never a strong suit and surprises are something I am still not a fan of. In fact, Christmas memories are some of my favorite from my childhood.

My mom, her sisters, sometimes her brothers, their spouses, and up to 11 kids crammed into one home for up to a week celebrating not only the magic of Christmas but the blessing of life, of family. We had some crazy times, from almost losing a child in the snow to my all-time favorite memory waking early to meet my cousin face to face crawling around long before we were “allowed” to be up. As we faced off under a pile of gifts we both startled and then gulped in as much air as possible to keep from blowing our cover. The belly laughs and joy we held within continues to resonate in my mind nearly 30 years later.   

The excitement of Christmas and preparing our hearts and mind for the holiday season could be compared to the preparation for parenthood, for the dreams you create for the children you expect. Sometimes, however, you receive the unexpected. In those moments, emotions swell. Perhaps you’re weighed down by disappointment, fear, anxiety, pain, sadness. Perhaps you wonder how you will feel strength or find a way to be thankful for a life you didn’t anticipate? In those moments, however, if you take a deep breath and step back you may begin to see it, to feel it, and to understand the gift is so much more than what you actually wanted it was in fact what you actually needed.   

Autism is like that. The last five years have changed almost everything in our lives. While it has taken so much, in the end, I choose to look at what it has given me. Today, I reflect and see how much I have grown, how much this wasn’t supposed to be a journey but my destiny to challenge, change myself and walk beside a child who was intended for me.   

In dark moments, I have found what matters. People who care have come out of places I never expected. True friends have stuck around and I have been blessed to meet people in my life I never would have encountered if it weren’t for autism. Autism has taught me patience. It taught me to be present, to acknowledge the small moments of growth. It has taught me that unwrapping the most precious gift may not look like what I wanted or expected but in the end, it’s better than I could have ever imagined.   

As this holiday season is upon us, I could choose to be sad, to be mad, to be angry for what could have been or what I wanted—I spent too many years like that. Instead, I can choose to seek the joy in what is, in the moments that matter, and cherish what we have because reality is, there is a gift when you choose to unwrap it.                         

I'm a mom of many who is living her best life navigating a busy world full of ups and downs. Managing five kids and one with additional needs I enjoy learning through living and sharing what I know. I can't wait to share our Messy World with you.

It’s not uncommon to hear parents, especially those with young kids, lamenting about the seemingly endless hours they spend in the car. Statistics support these feelings. The U.S. Department of Transportation reports that Americans spend an astounding 84 billion hours driving each year and make an average of 2.24 trips a day. According to AAA, 25-49-year-olds, the demographic that includes parents of young children, drive even more. In fact, 51% of parents spend an upward of five hours a week driving their kids around. This translates into American families spending up to 6% of their waking hours in the car. That’s a lot of time spent doing something that is often unenjoyable.

Are there ways that families can make these endless hours slightly more useful and dare we say, enjoyable? Perhaps.

What about adding mindfulness to the car ride? It’s a common assumption that mindfulness is a sacred activity reserved for quiet moments and peaceful studios. While in some instances this is true, it doesn’t always have to be, especially when kids are involved.

Mindfulness and breathing exercises can be adapted for car rides. Mindfulness is the practice of paying attention to the present moment, without judgment. What better environment to pay attention than in a moving car where there are literally hundreds of colors, sounds, smells, and objects competing for attention? Here are a few ideas for mindful moments in the car:

1. Find One Sound. At a stoplight, open the window and turn off the music. Ask your child to listen very carefully and find one sound to focus on. Can they hear one bird chirp or one person talking? See how long they can listen to that one sound.

2. Finger Roller Coaster. Have your child hold one hand out, with fingers wide open. With the other hand, pick one finger to be the roller coaster. Pretending that the outline of the hand is the roller coaster track, the roller coaster finger is traced up and down the fingers, going back and forth.

3. Blowing Balloon Hands. Kids hold their hands out in front of their bodies, and touch the fingertips of the opposite hand together, making a sphere. As they breathe in, all the fingertips come together in the middle, like an inflating balloon. Slowly blowing out, they open their hands up again and keep fingers pressed together like they are blowing up a balloon.

4. Listening to a Siren. If an emergency vehicle goes by, ask the child to listen to the sound of the siren. Ask them to listen as carefully as they can and say the moment that they can no longer hear the noise. This can become a game to see who can hear the sound the longest.

5. Find the Buzzing Bee. Kids place one hand on their chests and one hand on their bellies. They take a deep breath in, close their mouths and slowly breathe out of the nose, making a humming sound, like the buzz of a bee. As they hum, they try to see if they can feel the vibration in their hands on their chests and/or the hands on their stomachs. If they can’t feel both, encourage them to try again, taking a deeper breath and breathing out slower the next time.

6. Traffic Light Affirmations. Traffic Light Affirmations is a game that requires the ability to recognize and identify the three colors of a traffic light. To begin, the people in the car are each assigned one of the three colors of a traffic light.  If there are more than three people, two can share a color. The members of the car look carefully at each traffic light. When they spot a color, they state the color out loud and say something kind about the person to whom the color is assigned. This could be something they are thankful for or something they love about the person, etc. If the light changes color, the other person gets the affirmation. If more than one person is assigned a color, each person receives an affirmation when their color is spotted.

7. Breathing Out Smiles. This is a breathing exercise adapted from the work of Thich Nhat Hahn, a Vietnamese Buddhist Monk, and peace activist. The child closes their eyes, and the adult recites “While I take a slow breath in, I relax my body, While I take a slow breath out, I smile.” If the child is able, ask them to repeat the saying or say it together as everyone takes slow, deep breaths in and slow breaths out pausing in between breaths to smile. Many parents have reported that this practice can be very calming to them as well!

8. Smells. Kids close their eyes and try to identify what they can smell in that current moment. If it’s a dry day, this is more fun with the windows open. If kids are having a hard time identifying a unique smell, an idea can be suggested, and the game can change to finding the scent that was proposed, like a smelling scavenger hunt.

9. Guided Meditations. The car can be an excellent time to listen to and practice doing guided meditations. There are a variety of excellent guided meditations that are specially adapted for young kids.

10. Tingly Hands. Kids open their arms wide and clap their hands together as hard as they can. They clap three times in a row and then place their hands on their lap, palms up. Closing their eyes, they pay close attention to the sensation in their palms, seeing if they notice a tingling sensation. Feeling that sensation, they carefully pay attention to it and open their eyes only when the feeling is completely gone.

These ten activities can help bring mindfulness into your daily routine and kids think they are calming and fun. They love using their imaginations and doing an activity with you. If even one tool works, you have succeeded in incorporating mindfulness into your car ride. Congratulations!

 

Kristi Coppa is a mom of two, a former nurse, and the creator of Wondergrade, an app to help parents teach calm-down and emotional regulation skills at home. Through creating content kids love and empowering parents to teach it, Kristi intends to help create a kinder, more resilient, and compassionate next generation.

Photo: Elizabeth North

Every December as we decorate the tree, I wonder just what Christmas will look like for us. I remember seasons of beauty. Trips to the zoo to see the Christmas Lights, bundling into the car with hot cocoa and marshmallows, driving around to see the lights. I envision my husband’s work party where the kids delighted in the Jolly Fellow joining them as they visited and told them their wish list. I picture sleepy-eyed daddy as he is just as surprised as the children as they open presents. Those memories are treasures. For us moms, some of our best moments are the ones where we see our children in awe of what “Santa” brought and the feeling of satisfaction knowing that you made their day special.

For us, this was my favorite time of year but then, it changed. As I looked through photos of the holidays of the past, I realized that the holidays, since autism was diagnosed in our family, brought with them a sense of stress I had never experienced before. I still remember the Christmas I realized this. As my older children pushed gifts into my youngest daughter’s hands, she stared off into space, left the room, and felt overwhelmed. It was apparent to me that things had to be different so that we could still make memories, good ones, no matter what.

Knowing that the holiday, coming our way, would look different, I still acknowledged that I had four other children that deserved the magic they dreamed of and so I had to choose to do what was right for us. Hopefully these ideas will also help you.

Set Boundaries

The holiday is a season. With our children, we prepare by trying to clear our minds and hearts. We work to do for others. During the beginning of the month, doing small things with great love tends to warm our hearts and often reminds our family of what the season is truly about. Remember, while the holiday season is magical you need to hone in on what is most important, your family. Your children. This means that you may have to set boundaries. Boundaries can be tough. You can feel overwhelmed saying “no” but sometimes saying “no” is the gift you give yourself. If your child struggles outside the home or transitioning from event to event, it’s okay to prioritize.

I also suggest educating friends and family. So often, one of my family members has said that I should just explain it to them or tell them, or do what I need to do for my child. They don’t do this to be dismissive or unkind but instead I believe our families and friends try so hard to include us so we don’t feel left out. They see the challenges and suffering that we face and they want to support us at all times and let’s face it, those invites feel so good. They mean so much but it’s okay to say “no”, remember to thank them for the invite because they too need to know it means something to you even if you can’t attend.

Plan Ahead 

If you have other kids who want to attend an event or stay longer, take two cars. Make an exit plan. Set a small goal. For us, this idea came about with my husband’s work party. While fun for my other children, 110 kids, a jolly giant man, and balloons and crafts was overwhelming after an hour for our daughter so we began to take two cars. I would make a “cameo” and allow her to experience what she could and then duck out, early.

Be Honest with Yourself

While we all want to be together all the time, sometimes, it’s okay to realize it just won’t work. One of the greatest gifts I ever gave myself and my family was saying it’s okay if we can’t take her. She may join us another year and it may be better for the other kids if they don’t have to leave early, witness a meltdown, or feel they are just as important as she is, that our attention can be turned totally to them.

Let Go & Rid Yourself of Expectations

This may be the most important piece of the puzzle. For years, I wanted Christmas to continue as it was before. We would sit around and each person opens a gift, we ooh and ahh over it and celebrate together what the others in the family received. While my kids begged for Seraphina to open her gifts, she just wasn’t ready. Finally, last year I got it. Seraphina came in and out of the room we were in. We opened gifts and when she was ready we gave her a chance. Her beginning to understand the process wasn’t just exciting for me and her father but the children too. They delighted in her joy and when she left to play with her one gift, I was reminded of the beauty of autism. They see, feel, hear, and taste so much more than we ever can imagine. Witnessing her peace with one thing while others long for more is a great reminder that when we have what we need, we don’t need much more.

As we near the holiday season, try to take a deep breath. The holiday may look different but if you take the time to make some minor changes perhaps the holiday will be better than you could have imagined.

This post originally appeared on www.messyblessymomma.com.

I'm a mom of many who is living her best life navigating a busy world full of ups and downs. Managing five kids and one with additional needs I enjoy learning through living and sharing what I know. I can't wait to share our Messy World with you.

Seven years ago today was one of the most grateful times of my life. We watched videos, signed paperwork, handed over a feeding tube, and loaded up our Jeep and life began. I remember getting on the elevator and the admitting neonatologist got on with us. He proceeded to congratulate us on getting to go home, he wished us luck and then told us that in all his years of practicing he’s never seen such an “on his own terms kid.” 

Jeremy and I awkwardly laughed. Little did we know he was right. Whitman has his own story to tell. We’re grateful we get a front-row seat and to be apart of it! He makes us laugh so hard and makes us so proud on the daily. We don’t take this anniversary lightly we know what was at stake. We know how close we were to having a different kind of anniversary when just two weeks before, when Whitman was born, he was not breathing and had no pulse.

So we celebrate this with a light kind of heaviness. Whitman is our miracle. We’ve been told that from the start and he proves it to us on the daily. We celebrate the littlest of victories like getting to come home from the NICU. We celebrate that we never had to go back for RSV or any other complications that could have arisen. We celebrate that he is ours always and forever. That we were able to walk out with our tiny miracle. We were able to snuggle him on our own couch, we were able to love on him in his nursery. We were able to move on from the NICU.

I still have PTSD from our NICU days. When Whit was admitted to the hospital in 2019, I held my breath in the children’s hospital elevator. I saw the parents with that exhausted “I just had a baby it shouldn’t be like that look.” I contemplated hugging them and telling them it gets better. You’ll hopefully get to go home. You’ll hopefully get to show your baby the world when they are ready. We weren’t ready for three months. We had to pick and choose who we saw. We had our own little kind of quarantine bubble. Jeremy and I had clothes in our laundry room. We called it ground zero. If we left for any reason we picked clothes that were in ground zero wore them out came home and immediately put them in the washer and put on our at-home clothes after rinsing off.

We would have done anything to keep Whitman from the NICU. We’d been there. That wasn’t a journey we’d ever want to do again. It made us who we are as parents but watching your child struggle is not the way you imagine you starting your parenting journey. So we celebrate. We celebrate that we survived. We celebrate that we were a NICU success story. We celebrate everything that Whitman has become in these seven years, on his terms naturally.

He’s just the best. He’s so smart, sweet, and has the best sense of humor. Today is the day we celebrate everything that we have. The gratefulness behind it. We have never and will never take anything for granted when it comes to Whitman. Whitman John, you are an amazing human who deserves nothing but the best. Happy Coming Home Day! You worked so hard to come with us and continue to work so hard every day to be a part of our world. You deserve every happiness.

 

Lindsey is a mom, wife, and blogger at The Althaus Life. She lives in Ohio with her husband and 2 children. Lindsey is grateful all things and to be able to chronicle her beautifully broken laugh til you cry cry until you laugh life.