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The expert

Often, when dealing with therapists, psychiatrists, school social workers, speech therapists, and teachers, I forget that *I* am the expert on my son. I hadn’t even known until a friend told me a little over a year ago that I am the expert on Little Man. I’ve been feeling really helpless with what’s been going on with him at school the past couple of weeks. I don’t like feeling that way. I’ve been waiting for someone to tell me how to help him, what we can and will do to make it better for him, his teacher, and his class.

Today, I volunteered in his classroom for the first time this school year. I guess I forget all the things I know and do with him on a daily basis. He had been starting to go sideways before I arrived. Within thirty seconds of walking into the classroom, he realized I was there, and with two hand motions and one shake of the head from me, he had himself back under control. I was there for forty  minutes. Afterwards, I had a quick chat with his teacher and gave her three simple things we do at home. I was the expert in that moment, and she was open to everything I said. This momma breathed a HUGE sigh of relief. I had been so anxious that she might be close to done with him. I don’t know why I was so fearful…I know her, and I know she’s not like that. But there’s always a fear that someone, even a teacher, is going to decide it’s not worth the work and effort it takes with him. I want to practically beg everyone who  meets him to just give it a chance, because he is so amazing beyond all that hard work.

He’s had two good days in a row. I can’t stress how much I am praying we’ve turned a corner. I have been in full panic mode, with anxiety levels at an all-time high. I will be gone to a March of Dimes conference five days next week. Just thinking about being away from him with his behavior all over the board was making me want to throw up.  Today, I am hopeful.  He can do it. We can both get through those five days successfully.  I’m prepping him, I’ve told the staff at school, and he will see his therapist the day before I leave.

Remembering that I know how to help my child is empowering. We have, after all, been working at this his entire life, even before he was diagnosed and thrown into the world of autism. I don’t have to have a degree, be a therapist, a special ed instructor or a psychiatrist to help him soar. I’m his momma. That automatically makes me an expert on Little Man.

4 thoughts on “The expert

  1. Pingback: A beginner’s guide to: “Crap….there’s something wrong with my kid.” | Life on the Stair Steps

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