Mama Never Said There’d Be Days Like This by Lori Miller Fox

Over the years I’ve gotten so tired of people pitying my son. I’ve heard so much useless and unsolicited advice like “ just enjoy him,” “leave the poor baby alone,” and my personal favorite “G-d doesn’t give you more than you can handle.” I think G-d gives you whatever He or She sees fit and how you handle it is up to you.

That aside, my son is on the whole, just like any other teenager, only because he’s less verbal, without the back talk. So I’ve found that at times, raising a child with special needs requires discipline -- albeit of a little different nature than that required for most typical kids. Here are just a few of the things I, although sometimes regrettably, have said or have thought about saying to my son in the heat of the moment. Maybe some will work for you.

Don’t you use that high tone with me.

Stop, or your computer will freeze like that.

If you’re not swallowing food for dinner, then you’re not swallowing for dessert.

You call that sensory music!

You’d forget your headrest if it wasn’t attached to your wheelchair.

I don’t care what all the other kids are wearing, we had that TLSO made for you and you’ll wear it.

How many times do I have to repeat myself; stop repeating yourself!

If you get stopped for speeding one more time, I’m going to take away your joystick.

Don’t you point your head pointer at me.

If someone offers you drugs, be sure to give them your prescription.

Insurance premiums don’t grow on trees, you know.

If you can’t find something nice to type, don’t type anything at all.

Don’t put that nuk brush in your mouth; you don’t know where it’s been.

I brought you into this world prematurely, and I can take you out of this world prematurely.

Don’t you shorten your muscles with me, young man.

If your friend jumped off a therapy swing, would you?

I don’t care if you want an assistance dog, who do you thinks is going to be the one taking care of it?

When I was your age, I used to wheel myself ten miles to school.

How should I know where your AFOs are, who wore them last?

Use your word prediction.

I want to hear one more word out of you -- this is speech therapy and I’m paying out of pocket.

Stop playing with your food -- except for the dried beans, they’re for sensory input.

Wake up, it’s time to fall asleep in school.

You want something to cry about; I’ll take you to the mall and let people make comments.

If you think I’m going to sit here while the school just throws your life away, you’ve got another thing coming.

That’s it! No parties, no friends, no social life -- just like any other regular day being disabled.

I don’t care what all the other special needs kids are doing, you’re getting an appropriate education.

When you’re disabled, life’s a bowl of cherry jello.

Because I’m your martyr, that’s why !

Comments

[Sandy Alperstein]

Lori, I've been checking in every day, hoping to see something from you. And I must say - this was worth the wait! Thanks!!

Sandy

[Sam]

I love the humanness and respect the reality of your rap.

[Jennifer]

I can so relate...lol
I'll be your advocate whether you like or not!
I will complain at your IEP, that's my job.
Don't you roll your eyes at me, I know what you really mean!
You will take your medicine and get better!
You will wrap in your weighted blanket and like it!

[Pam]

What a great post! Yes, they are like every other kid, just with their own peculiarities. This is me to my "regular" daughter: Don't you take that attitude with me!
This is me with my autistic son: Don't you get all squealy and flappy on me!

[Lisa Riley]

Way too funny! :) As a Special Education teacher of 18 years, it's amazing how those all fit. Thanks for the giggle!