Moms of SNC (Special Needs Children):….some reflections and even a little humor….You know you have a special needs kid when….
-the pediatrician insists you call her by her first name.
-your kid’s accordian medical file is 4 feet thick.
-you feel you’re constantly in survival mode.
-your medical deductible is met by mid-January.
-you go for a highly specialized procedure (e.g., a colonoscopy, an EEG, an MRI), and the tech states “you look so familiar; have you been here before?”
-you loathe the “developmental milestones” checklist at the pediatric “well baby” (HA!) visits.
-“friends” don’t ask you to watch their kids because they fear you’ll ask them to return the favor.
-your child is 18 mos. old and you long to have a book barbeque with your copies of “What to Expect: the Toddler Years” and “What to Expect: the Preschool Years”.
-you feel yourself stifling laughter when others complain about their child’s “tragic” ear infection or (gasp!), their ordeal with immunizations or a blood draw.
-you find yourself resenting any therapist's criticism of your little one's mannerisms ("fix your legs!" "don't rub your head!" "don't flap, just give a clap!").
-your mail carrier must think your home is a pseudo-infirmary based on the bundles of Blue Cross/Blue Shield statements you receive.
-your child is 2, and has a “medical resume” of sorts to facilitate succinct meetings with new medical professionals who are taking on your child’s case.
-you deny your anger to a counselor, yet you long to create an iron-on tee-shirt that reads: “Screw you! He’s special needs!” (This could also apply to bumper stickers, key rings, personal pens; hey, maybe I’m on to a new merchandising trend!)…
-you have a vast reference section under the category of your child's illness (also includes at least 5 three-ring binders with 8-pouch pockets sheets filled with medical business cards and contacts).
-the quote “it’s nothing that a little prozac and polo mallet won’t cure” is especially poignant.
-you see that doctors are human and insecure when they realize they can’t help your child; ("So that's why they call it "medical practice"; I get it!").
-out of respect and empathy, you never turn your head to look at a handicapped person, and you are especially irked when you see people stare.
-you understand “McDonald’s Envy” (i.e., kids at McDonald’s playground who do so easily what your child cannot) all too well.
-you get excited to meet another parent “in your shoes”, as if another child with the same malady is something to celebrate (?)… (It’s so odd!)
-your child’s name is permanently etched on your church’s prayer list, and you are on church prayer lists in at least 5 other states.
-upon overanalysis of your childhood, you are convinced that you had the same problem as your child, but to a lesser degree.
Faux Pas:
-being overly nice to my kid
-ignoring my kid
-treating my kid like there’s nothing wrong
-Yes, that’s right, you can’t win!!!
The Sunny Side of having a SNC:-a SNC is a “bad friend” filter.
-all sorts of medical professionals seem to immediately recognize you when you’re out and about (“all this and fame too!”).
-you lose all old neuroses (I suppose you trade them for new ones, but let’s be positive); a clean house, for example, is out of the question.
-you gain immediate respect from strangers/friends by your “in-depth” medical knowledge; (aka, a self-taught PhD in the category of Williams Syndrome, for example).
-you get to take vacations to many big and exciting cities; “Pack your bags, hon! We’re going to Boston! (Children’s, that is…)”
-it's December, and upon analysis of the full year's worth of medical statements, you smile and think, "Gee, for what we pay out in medical premiums and deductibles, I really got my money's worth!" (It's like an all-u-can-eat medical buffet, and you're a hungry, 500-lb. fat person. A more succinct way of stating this is "the all-u-can-eat medical buffet is losing money on me!").
You have a great excuse for:
-complaining
-not showering today
-being late
-being forgetful
-being a sloth
-maniacal depression
-not paying bills
-not attending playgroups
-not shaving
-not attending the company Christmas Party, and all other outside company “fun”
-being rude to telemarketers (or, in my case, bill collectors), parents, and spouse
-not having sex
-being hostile in traffic
-in sum, total self-centeredness
-you truly appreciate every developmental milestone that your child has mastered.
-you realize that your child is somehow God’s instrument (although sometimes it feels like he’s God’s hammer!)
-you cash in your innocence for wisdom (or is this a disadvantage?).
-you begin to understand the essence of unconditional love, and strive to give it.
-In this sometimes dark place, you are able to see more vividly Christ’s face and God’s fingerprints.
Here they are measuring his head.
We were outside again last night and he managed to get 2 more bites, one on his neck and one on his leg, but they didn't seem to get as big. 
