I was a full time stepmom to three amazing, older, neurotypical kids before I became a birth mother. When I became their parent, I went from having no kids, to having three kids, full time. However, since the youngest one was already six, they were past diapers, past toilet training, past all of the baby stuff that I found absolutely bewildering. It was a big adjustment but I had already been a teacher for several years, so I had some clue of how to care for them.
Not so when my first birth-child, a neurotypical girl, was a newborn. I remember that I was sitting at the local mall food court with the baby and my mother. My son, who is special needs, was not yet born. My baby daughter was a few weeks old. I was struggling. Thankfully, my husband, a veteran father by this point, was able to teach me so much about how to care for a newborn. But he wasn’t there that day.
My daughter was sleeping. It was the middle of the day on a weekday so lots of older folks were out and about and several smiled at my baby as they passed by. And I remember talking to my mother about how overwhelmed I was feeling.
Nearby, I observed a mother and FOUR girls sitting at a table. They were obviously sisters, looking very much alike. They were all perfectly dressed. They were sitting calmly at their table, talking quietly and eating their lunch. The oldest one may have been five. They were all very close in age. The mother was perfectly dressed as well, nails done, hair coiffed. I just kept watching them in astonishment. Here I was, at the mall, with ONE child and with my mother to help and I felt like a wreck. When I lifted my daughter from her car seat/stroller combo, I noticed that I had chosen a onesie that had a stain on the bottom, which hadn’t been obvious to me when I dressed her that morning. This woman had FOUR kids and herself dressed perfectly, and my baby had on a stained onesie.
I remember feeling like this woman I was observing had it all together. And that I would NEVER, EVER have it all figured out like she did.
Fast forward several years. This past December, I am sitting in my son’s special needs classroom for a holiday party. My son has evolved to a point where his Dad and I can come visit the classroom without it causing a huge meltdown because it disrupts his day. This was a hard-won achievement. He is sitting on a chair with his classmates at circle time, singing along (OK, babbling along) and cuddling my leg. Across the carpet, another Mom is struggling. Her son is crying like crazy because there are parents in the room and THAT IS NOT WHAT WE USUALLY DO. The mother is distressed. My heart goes out to her. And I think, if I were her looking up at me, I might appear like I have it all together.
This makes me smile inside. Because it is so far from being true.
Comparing yourself to other parents, especially other parents of special needs children, is a quick route to insanity.
From a logical perspective, it is simply not possible for the food court mother to have had it all together every single minute of every day. Heck, yeah, she was having a great moment that day in the food court, but can you imagine having four girls that close together in age? Conversely, it is not possible for the Mom at the class party to have every single minute of every day with her child be a wreck. You know that they must have good moments. That just wasn’t one of them.
When you compare your life, of which you know every single detail, with the slice of life that you see in other people, of which you know very few details, you are comparing apples and oranges. The next time you feel like you are the only one that doesn’t have it all figured out, remember that NO ONE HAS IT ALL FIGURED OUT. How could they?
You do the best you can with the information and resources you have available at the time. Sometimes your family will look put together and fantastic. You will walk proudly with your special needs child, head held high. Other times, you and your child will be a mess.
Let’s refocus. Instead of worrying about how you appear to others or trying to appear LIKE others, keep your eye on the prize. Your child is the prize. If a meltdown ensues, even in public, caring for them is priority number one. If someone sees you on your best day, well, they lucked out, didn’t they? And if someone sees your slice of life, either way, what they think about it is their business.
Worrying about having it all figured out is a burden you can put down right now. You will NEVER have it all figured out. And that’s OK.