by Shannon Aronin on December 17th, 2015

​Every Christmas I make a Santa video for our son from Portable North Pole. This is one of my favorite parts of Christmas. It connects with your Facebook to pull pictures and asks you very specific questions about your child and the year they've had. Then you get this awesome personalized video message from Santa. We then use Chromecast to show it to him on the big screen. For those trying to extend the magic just a little longer, it's quite convincing. It takes 5 minutes. Add the Official NORAD Santa Tracker on Christmas Eve and bam! You have another year of Santa! 

So every year the video asks if Boo was on the naughty, nice or needs to try harder lists. In the past, he was always on the "come on you got this buddy, but try just a little bit harder" list, I think one year he even made the naughty list. Temporarily before I redid the video & showed it to him, I'm not a monster!

But this year, as I approached this pleasant holiday task, it dawned on me that my Boo had legitimately earned a spot on the nice list. He has really put in effort this year.

So in the spirit of the Twelve Days of Christmas, here are twelve reasons my son made the Nice List this year:

1. I'm proud my Boo was courageous about moving to California, starting a new school, and being brave when it just didn't work, and he had to start at another new school.

2. I'm proud of him for embracing his specialized non public school and working hard there to learn the social skills he needs. I'm relieved to see he is self aware enough to do the work and accept the help.

3, I'm proud that he withstood all the assessments that had to be done to get him here. He has been so accepting as we have moved from one specialist to the next, not to mention different sitters and just generally having people come and go.

4. I'm grateful he is so cooperative but opinionated about his medications. He takes the pills like a champ, trusts us, appreciates the help, and is rather precise in describing how a medication change is affecting him.

5. I'm grateful he is doing so well that for the first time in 3 years we are working towards cutting his medications.

6. I'm proud of the self advocate he has become. While compliance is an important skill that he needs to learn a modicum of, I'm really glad he dug his heels in when a new bus driver wanted him to get in without a car seat. I'm glad he knew enough to be mad when he had trouble accessing his medication. He will always be able to put up a fight if he needs to.

7. Boo has always had a lion sized heart. Not great at perspective taking, but once a situation is explained to him you can't find a kinder soul. This year we watched him make actual friends and repeatedly show compassion for other people's troubles. He has learned to be a generous advocate for others as well.

8. I'm inspired by his optimism. No matter what he has been through, the kid is a trooper. All the professionals ask him routinely how things are going. He ALWAYS says Good! And he sincerely means it. He never lets having autism or ADHD get him down. He loves his family, his dogs, his school, his friends, his toys, his theme song is literally "Everything is Awesome." They say resiliency is a huge predictor of success. I predict my boy will be hugely successful.

9. I'm delighted by his curiosity. I'm often taken off guard by the questions. He has a lot of them, but he is so eager to understand the world. And he's not afraid to push to get answers to big, meaningful questions.

10, My son sets an example of how to live life to the fullest. He has enriched my life with his unbridled joy and rose colored glasses. He literally doesn't care what anyone thinks. While this has its downsides, he actively chooses to be different among the different solely for the sake of being different. Sometimes I may wish he would fit in just a little, but that's not who he is.

11. I love watching him pursue new interests. I'm hopeful that we might have seen Minecraft peak and I think he's between obsessions right now. I'm really pulling for the piano to take root next.

12. He talks to me! I mean really talks to me. I think we have built a stronger foundation for our relationship this year. I think I might have a kid who is willing to talk to me about stuff going on in his life in the years ahead. The one caveat being he has to remember to tell me. Maybe  we will work on his memory this year.

So congrats to my boy, I'm sure Santa will be very good to him this year!

by Shannon Aronin on December 1st, 2015

​My boy is 8, and he is super verbal. He has a vocabulary that is in the 98%. The first thing people notice about him is that he is very smart.  I have watched total strangers as their jaw hits the floor and they are comparing him to Sheldon on the Big Bang Theory within 10 minutes. But we know that because of his attention troubles, the big feelings that go with a mood disorder and the communication struggles of autism, he has trouble applying that big vocabulary. Despite all the words he knows and all the words he can read and all the things he can imagine, I am still often left feeling like I am grasping for straws when trying to figure out WHY he did something, or in therapeutic terms, what is the function of his behavior.

One big challenge is echolalia. My husband is better at tuning it out. But I can’t take it. Some of my worst failures as a mother have involved me losing it over his random and repetitive noises. It tweaks my brain and I swear I can feel smoke coming out of my ears. He knows that this is the thing I cannot handle. He knows when he does it when I am driving it is very dangerous. And I know he can’t always help it. For the most part we’ve put it in the same category as other private things, something you have to go to your room to do by yourself if you need to do that.

He does very little of this at school or in front of the countless professionals who have tested him over the last three years. So when I express that this is a BIG problem for me, they are very confused. They may have caught a peak at it, but not really. I hate these little snippets of nonsense noises so much that by trying so hard to tune it out I rarely even notice when he is hooked on one syllable, or that one sound has risen in frequency. Thankfully my husband is more observant of this.

Recently the husband and I had an incredible opportunity to visit Universal Studios Hollywood for a “Date Day.” The tickets were cheap, the park stayed open late and we waited in few lines. The new sitter was doing great. It was a great day. My son would not have been able to handle this theme park very well yet, so it was a fun grown-up outing.

At one point, we pulled over to look at the park map. He suddenly looked up, like a dog catching a whiff of steak, a certain optimism in something as simple as lifting your head. He said, “Did you hear that? Coming from the loudspeakers? It’s the same noise Boo makes.  Be-do, be-do, be-do…” And for the first time I realized he had been saying be-do not exclusively, but a lot, for probably more than a year. If you had asked me to describe his most common echolalia noise I couldn’t. But this was common, and the noise coming out of the loudspeakers sounded so eerily like him.

Now we were on a mission – find that noise. We find a park staff member and I told him this was going to sound crazy, and we told him a little about our son. And we asked him what that noise was. MINIONS. That’s their language.

So minions, who have become so huge with the Despicable Me movies and just had a movie out called Minions, have a language made up of the sound my son has made, driving me insane, for more than a year, and I didn’t know?! So I cried in front of this unsuspecting theme park employee. I was happy, because this noise had a root other than the folds of Boo’s own brain.  And I was sad because we totally missed it. Later I asked him if that’s where he got it and he practically rolled his eyes with an “of course Mom. You didn’t think I was crazy, right?”
So here I am, alert as I can possibly be, and I had no idea. Makes me wonder how many other things I just miss. But that’s the thing. We are only human. Because special needs parents are hyper vigilant on more than one front usually, it seems we are surprised by the limitations of our humanity.

If you are a special needs parent, what’s the thing you can’t believe you missed for so long? 

by Shannon Aronin on November 1st, 2015

​I don’t feel well. My list of medications and disorders is very long. Most of them have clinically significant diagnostic criteria like bloodwork or imaging results; elevated white blood cells for example are hard to fake and impossible to control. Without boring you, I will say that what most of my conditions have in common is that they are exacerbated by stress. And I am not alone. Research has shown a connection between chronic stress and health outcomes in parents of children with intellectual or developmental disabilities.                                   

My to-do lists are long and I am tired. Between my son and myself I can only handle so many doctors or various therapy sessions at one time. I am always hearing how important “self-care” is, but I can barely make time to go to doctors in order of urgency as time allows, bonus if I make it in without re-scheduling more than twice. My fight or flight responses are high. I need to better manage stress. But yoga and massages are expensive and their effects seem so fleeting. Relaxing just seems like so much work. Again, I am not alone. One study found that “more than 30% of the mothers raising children with autism spectrum disorder reported moderate to severe depressive symptoms when their children were 9 months old. That rate compared to 21% of mothers raising children with other disabilities and slightly more than 16% of mothers with typically developing children.” 

I was recently talking to a mom friend about some horrible news story of massive neglect of very young children. It was a single mom with five kids. The common refrain was that “she should have asked for help.” Very different situations, but it made us wonder -- from whom? Is there a line of helpers in the wings I don’t know about? It DOES take a village. Unfortunately, we, collectively, burned that sucker down. I’m a pretty good mom. (My son’s counselor told me he talks about me as if I were a goddess, her words, not mine. No one is that complimentary of their mother in therapy, ask Freud.) But I’m not Mother Theresa. I understand the feeling of just not being able to go on, or what it’s like to walk away from your kid because you are so angry you need to have him out of sight… and he follows you.

I wish I could just take breaks with my husband. I need more than dinner and a movie, although it’s a start. Date night feels like a tease for what I need. If I could just have a couple nights a few times a year away with my husband that would help. But it’s not really possible. Our situation makes it more difficult, and more nerve-wracking, to “just get a sitter.” After our last real break together last March, my batteries were recharged and I was the mom I want to be for a solid couple of MONTHS. I think if I had four weekends off with my husband a year, I would be a lot closer to saint status.

I wish we could live closer to friends and family and had more help. But it’s more than distance from the places we grew up. And we are not alone. Most special needs families feel isolated. Story after story of people feeling unwelcomed, unwanted and a nuisance to friends, family and even their faith community. People have told me stories where loved ones did not want their child at family events, stopped including them, where their child has outright been referred to as a burden. Almost all the parents I talk to have had relatives suggest that maybe the kids will “grow out of it.” Families like ours are excluded from many things lest the child’s behavior inconvenience anyone. And when the child is symptomatic of their actual disability, their extended family and friends look away and wonder why we can’t all “just control our kids.”

In general, people don’t know how to respond well to mental health issues. In 2013, Larry Lake wrote one of the most poignant things ever published on the internet, “Comfort Food: No one brings dinner when your daughter is an addict.” I know common wisdom is not to expect anything from others. Every special needs parent I know is lonely and very few have more than a threadbare support system. We're all supposed to be these independent islands, asking for help is an imposition.

Part of it is that the chronic nature of mental illness and developmental disabilities makes it more difficult to discern when to jump in, but a lot of it is fear. When I talk to my tribe of special needs parents, the theme of the shared experience of badly needing help is fear. Our families and friends are afraid. I understand you’re scared – scared of administering medications, scared you aren’t equipped to handle a meltdown, scared the child won’t do what you tell him. We’re scared of those things too. Here’s a straw – Suck. It. Up.

I’m addressing the friends, family and loved ones of all special needs families, so pretty much everyone. Respite is a short period of rest or relief from something difficult. Raising a child with any disability is really hard. The longer you go without relief, the harder it gets. The harder it gets, the less effective we are as parents. Every single one of you reading this has a friend or family member with a disability that could use a helping hand. Maybe they don’t need two nights off, maybe they really would cry with gratitude if you just watched the kid while he was asleep for a late date. Maybe they really need a nap. Or a casserole.

Special needs parents aren't superheroes that God chose because they are perfectly patient souls. They are just people putting one foot in front of the other. Because we are parents, and we have the love only a parent can have that sees past the imperfections. So, what other choice is there? When you think "I could never do that," I promise you that you could. If you had to. I’m asking you, on behalf of all special needs families, lend a hand because you choose to. I nominate YOU to take a concrete action to help a family with a child with special needs.

Special needs parents, what is the kindest break someone has given you that allowed you to take care of yourself? To everyone else, especially during this season of gratitude and giving we are about to enter, what can YOU pledge to do to help lighten the load, to be a part of rebuilding the village?

by Shannon Aronin on October 7th, 2015

If you’ve done something once, that totally counts as being an expert, right? Last month we threw my son a fantastic Minecraft themed 8th birthday party. It broke my heart that he had not been invited to a single party or playdate last year. But this year he has FRIENDS. That alone was worth a celebration. At a recent meeting with his school, Boo’s counselor admitted they were worried about us; so were we! Here are some Pro Tips if you too want to throw your child and his friends in special education a birthday party.  
  1. The Guest List: He attends a California non-public school, so all of the students are receiving special education services from their local public school district. He is one of ten students in grades 1-5, and there are three teachers in this mixed-age group classroom. Seven of the nine other students attended. They all also brought at least one adult. I was floored we got such a great response. Make sure you check in with the teacher early to coordinate and invite everyone. I don’t care if your kid says they don’t want to invite that one kid, I don’t care what that kid has done, you invite that kid. We also let Boo invite kids from his integrated after-school program, and two stopped by. His new friend he met at a grocery store, a family friend, and his uncle and aunts. Make sure the adults stay. Chuckee Cheese rules were in effect: if you came with a kid, you leave with that kid.
2.  Location: The advantage of hosting it somewhere else is a party planner and no clean-up.But if you can have it at home, the advantage is home turf. You are in control of the space. You have a better ability to manage the party.

3. Communication: Parents of other special needs kids are just like you. They are afraid their child will have a meltdown. They worry about what will happen at the party, can they do anything to prepare for the stimulation? Or what if there won’t be food they can eat there.? The idea of leaving their unpredictable bundle of joy alone at a party is horrifying. I created very simple invitations that told parents what the activity was going to be and at what time, what we would be serving (pizza, cake & ice cream). It stated that families and guardians were encouraged to stay, please let us know if you have any dietary restrictions, and please let us know if you have any concerns at all. Just open yourself up to it. No one came to us with concerns, but it lets the other parents know you are thinking about their daunting task of taking their child to a party.

4. Activity: We had considered a piñata. His teacher rightly asked if we were sure we wanted to give these kids a stick? Ultimately we went with a “game truck”? Have you heard about these things? In Southern California we went with Extreme Game Truck. It’s basically a stocked arcade on wheels. It cost $300 for 2 hours on a Saturday afternoon. I know, I know, can’t they just enjoy the party with each other without video games? No. You already know that. It’s his party, he can game if he wants to. It kept the kids entertained, relatively quiet, calm, happy and contained.

5. Food: Bad pizza is really cheap, I know. Good pizza is worth it though. I’m from New York. I’m so glad we ponied up. They cut us a discount better than our second favorite pizza place, so shout-out to Tony’s. Ask for the pies to be sliced in twelfths. Kids don’t eat much at parties. We expected and had approximately 25 people. We ordered eight pies, and that was way too many. Get four or five. Instead of cake AND ice cream, and this also removes any guilt about not being able to produce the kind of cake show quality masterpieces we used to get in Texas from having friends who baked, get an ice cream cake. I grew up with Carvel, but the closest one was an hour and a half away. We LOVED Cold Stone Creamery’s cake. For drinks we did Capri Suns and  waters, keep it simple.

6. To open gifts or not open gifts: Consider this question carefully. There is no right or wrong answer. For example, this year I was leaning towards not opening them during the party. That was until I learned that it was a big deal that one of the kids in the class was going to be able to bring a gift. Well then I had to, I mean hello. One of the best pieces of advice I ever got in life, and a really big help in fundraising, is never take away someone else’s opportunity to be generous. You need to confirm this decision day of. Try to ascertain that everyone did indeed bring a gift before you go forward if you do. Lots of families don’t open gifts at the party anymore, and with all the stimulation, I think your guests will understand. If it’s a non-starter, feel free to put it in the invite. The more information everyone has to prep the kids the better. We also did family gifts separately, and our family friend who came brought an extremely generous gift that we did separately as well. Make sure you have someone jotting down who gave what. Help your child use his manners. First open card, read it. Then open gift. Look giver in the eye and say thank you. Rehearse what will happen with your child.

7. Time: If I am hosting a party, and you come early, then we cannot be friends. Thankfully none of our guests were early. We had enough RSVPs in that I wasn’t fretting over it. We scheduled the party for 4 hours, from 1:00-5:00 PM. I know, that’s super long. But hear me out. These kids need time. Rushing things will make chaos even more chaotic. So everyone arrived by 1:30. We all ate pizza. The truck was here from 2:00– 4:00 PM. We warned the kids at 3:30, 3:40, 3:45, 3:50, and 3:55. I can’t suggest this enough. WARN THEM before ending a preferred activity. After the truck, we sang, ate cake, and opened presents. Everyone left at a leisurely pace. My son got testy a time or two -- patience, patience, he is not ungrateful, he was experiencing sensory overload. Hopefully a helpful guest will remind you of this when they see you counting your breaths… Maybe. Or, it’s just his birthday and he’s a kid hopped up on sugar now too, that’s also possible. Either way, try really hard to let things go. You might fail. That’s ok.  But I am really pleased to say that not one person had a full blown meltdown, including me. In fact, I don’t think a stranger would have necessarily known how hard these kids were working at employing social skills they learned at school!

8. Thank You Notes: We are still working on them. Have patience and cut yourself some slack. Maybe do family first. You have to get them out, but half the kids have fine motor delays. No one will die if he types them, he will be sincerely grateful and maybe won’t always hate writing thank you notes. It is taking a looooong time. I am counting on other parents who get it not judging me.

All in all, it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I’m so glad we had this wonderful experience, and I can’t wait to do it again next year.

by Shannon Aronin on August 24th, 2015

Dear Special Education Teacher:

I want you to know I’m scared. Students don’t end up in your classroom by being well-adjusted, and while I know that you have probably seen it all, I am so used to people who think they have seen it all until they meet my Boo.

For the first time since pre-school, I have not been going through the Back-to-School grind (well described here by a mom whose amazing words made me cry and inspired this post). I’m not worried about school supplies or packing lunches, these things are completely provided. We bought him some new clothes that were dress code compliant online and they were on sale.

Not only do students arrive at your door with special needs, I suspect most of the parents arrive at your door guarded. The road to get here was not easy – not easy to acquire these services and not easy to accept that my child needed them.

When the first day of school arrives, the principal introduces himself to my family, by his FIRST NAME. Considering the slightly passive aggressive stance I have taken with school personnel who insist on this nasty habit of using last names as if we aren’t equals, this stopped me dead in my tracks. My kid is not his teachers’ equal, so he will call them what he is told. But yes, I have been known to respond to emails from Ms. Last Name with a Hi First Name and insisting they call me Shannon. I have never called my boss, my CEO or anyone other than medical doctors and my own teachers as anything but by their first names.

Putting up such formal walls doesn’t make me feel like an equal partner in education. And here was this welcoming man greeting my child and telling him to call him by his first name. When I found out that all the teachers here also went by their first names I thought it was not only charming, it was warm. It was warm for kids who have met so much iciness for their inability to control their behavior in a general education classroom.

We were allowed to take him to his classroom. This meant the world to us. It should be illegal to force Kindergarteners and First Graders to march down a hall by themselves and not let parents in the classroom, just on the first day. Those first few moments in a classroom at the start of the year shouldn’t be about establishing authority over young children, they should be about building trust.

I saw the warmth in your eyes, the quiet way you spoke. I don’t know if you are always so calm and peaceful, both you and the two classroom aides look like you had Xanax for breakfast, in a good way. Eleven special needs children with behavioral problems are about to enter your room and you look happy to see them.

I see that you have gone all out. Not only is my child’s name on his desk, it is on the wall in a perfectly cut, laminated construction paper star. The work for each child in on the wall in carefully divided folder. For most of the students, many other things are taped to their desk, most notably their IEP goals so that they can start to achieve them. There’s a corner of the room I can see my Boo will feel safe pacing when he needs to. How long did you spend tending to this room, to make it more than just a great space to learn, but a space to heal as well?
I see you, and I have no idea why you are here. You could have chosen so many easier paths in life, even if you were called to make a difference. You could be teaching “normal” kids right now instead of willingly taking a job in which you don’t even get to escape to a teachers’ lounge for lunch and recess because these are critical times for the social learning most of these kids need far more than reading,’riting and ‘rithmatic, although you are expected to teach those too, to common core standards.

When Boo arrives home that afternoon, he is very happy and proud of himself.  I see that he has a daily report on which you have rated his behavior every 45 minutes. You have included detailed notes and there is a space for me to let you know if his night was positive or negative and his morning before school was positive or negative. That evening, I receive the kindest email from you telling me how much you enjoyed him today and asking me to review the details of the behavior modification trick we have been using at home that I mentioned in passing that morning.

Thank you. Thank you for everything you did leading up to the first day of school and during this first week. Boo is already excited to see you on Monday.