We all have off-days. Or off weeks, months, years! Here’s a reminder to do the basics to look after yourself.
But I also remind myself when I feel exhausted that children with additional needs often feel that way all the time… it’s a good reminder of how they experience life and how we can help them.
I love autumn because it’s the one season in which we can see things come to life at the same time as things dying. Autumn is the season of mushrooms and aren’t they just the most magical things? It’s also the seasons when many plants give a last flourish of colour before letting us know that they’ve had enough for a while.
Everything changes. All the time. From bad to better, from good to awful sometimes. From the known to the unrecognisable. It’s a simple sentence that has stood me in very good stead as I’ve journeyed through the complicated world of additional needs.
If you are in the depths of despair because your child is ill, or school just can’t see how to help, or a social worker thinks you are causing your teenager’s problems. Things change. They do not stay the same, so the pain you are feeling now will not endure. [It is possible they may get worse for a while, but the change in itself is usually helpful.] In reality, things do get better if only because as human beings we find ways to normalise our lives. It just makes things easier to manage.
A very good friend, Yvonne Newbold talks in her book about managing “ten-minute chunks”. We can all endure for ten minutes, so set your sights and your clock for the next ten minutes. Then breathe and see where you are.
I’m constantly amazed by how much better things can get if we just give them time. In terms of our children, it’s all too easy to be told that children with additional needs tend to need longer to mature, to develop. When your teenager is self-harming or running wild with people who frighten you, those additional years feel far away and unattainable. And yet… time and again those of us with slightly older young people will tell you that change of a kind they never imagined happened.
If the bad can change to good, there’s no shying away from the fact that good can change to bad too! All those interventions you put in place to support your autistic child, that were working so well, suddenly seem to be having no effect. Or sometimes, they are just making things worse! What happened?
What happened is that your child is growing. They are changing and as a result the interventions are not working anymore. Because your child is a wonderful, complicated human, not a robot!!
The same is true for children with physical needs. The physiotherapy programme implemented two months ago may now be causing pain, or be less effective because they’ve had a growth spurt. Which can be really frustrating if you’re not due to see the therapist for a few months! Don’t hesitate in such circumstances to make a phone call or send an email for earlier input.
What if your child stops needing the support that has been critical to their wellbeing and progress?
What if that support has been so effective that your child no longer has the same level of need?
Is that a sign that it’s the right support and is allowing them to progress and thrive? Or has it outlived its usefulness?
Our systems in the UK make it very difficult to access specialist support, and all too easy to lose it. Unfortunately, that means that we parents are terrified to reduce provision that has been hard-fought and has made a positive difference. Even if it’s the right decision.
One of the hardest things to do as a parent carer is to recognise the time to let go. The time to take a risk, a chance, to trust our child and the people who are helping them. Even if a therapist you trust tells you that they no longer need to see that child, every cell in your body may well scream in protest. Personally, I believe that if support were easier to put in place, we parents would not fear this part of the process nearly so much….
It is a risk, to take away some of the scaffolding. In the same way as removing a plaster cast and crutches may result in a fall, removing assistance, or a therapy session may well result in some difficulties. But let’s stick with the broken leg analogy, because it’s easier to understand.
Having a leg in plaster allows broken bones to knit together and mend BUT… that same supportive plaster cast results in muscle wastage. When the plaster comes off, mobility is affected. Your leg will no doubt hurt, as will your hip and your back. Your arms probably hurt because of the crutches you had to use. In many ways, your whole body has been badly affected by the treatment used to deal with the crisis that was your broken bone.
Proper recovery to independence depends on your work. Your willingness to push through the pain, to walk in spite of the wobble. You may need to use crutches a little longer, then graduate to a single stick until finally you walk alone, if slowly. But if you do the work, if you are brave enough to move with the discomfort, you will learn to walk again.
I’m a parent carer. I often fall into the trap of supporting for too long, or too much. Because I love my children and I have seen them struggle and suffer far more than their peers. I often have to remind myself that my goal is for them to live as independently as they can. And that depends on my ability to step away from them, to give them the space of moving with discomfort.
I’ll leave you with a little thought. One of the fears in considering the reduction of support is that you will have to fight to get it back.
I would suggest that you will never need or want the precise support that you are reducing, because your child is not the child they were a year ago, two years ago. You may well have to advocate for additional support if things don’t go to plan. But it won’t be going backwards. You will be asking for something new, that suits your child’s needs now.
So in reality, you’re not losing anything. Try and be brave. Try and consider that those professionals working with your child have seen progress that suggests a plaster cast can be removed. Maybe it will be replaced with a splint. Maybe the leg will be left bare, and a few days later you will explain to the doctors that something more is needed (a splint, different painkillers). It’s even possible that another plaster cast will be required, but if it is, it will be a different shape, because the leg is not the shape it was when the first one was applied.
Advocacy and disability are not static. We often enter this world as we would start a sprint. Get your head down, run hard, do the work and get to the finish line. But the reality is that parenting a child with additional needs is closer to a marathon and closer still to an endless hike. So we need to learn to be flexible so that we can adapt to ever changing circumstances, and relax into what is a challenging but rewarding life.
The Oxford Learner’s Dictionary defines risk in this way:
As parents of children with additional needs, we live with “risk” all the time. Bad things happen to us and our children rather more frequently than they do in more average families for a number of reasons including:
So in today’s world, parent carers can be or appear to be risk-averse. Which is seen as a bad thing. Risk is important for growth, we are told. Don’t be over-protective, over-anxious…
Parent carers are also, regularly, told that they are not being careful enough, that there may be “safeguarding” issues, that such and such a situation is not safe. Don’t be neglectful, don’t risk your child’s safety…
Hang on, back up a moment…. How many of you have noticed the dreadful contradiction?
It’s a legitimate question. I’ve spent the last twenty years living with these messages and simply accepting the fact that I might well be both over-protective and in some way neglectful of my children. Many of us do. But if we are able to take a breath, pause and reflect, we will quickly understand that there is something quite wrong here.
Overprotective parents show guarding behavior that is excessive considering the child’s developmental stage and the actual risk level in their environment.
https://www.parentingforbrain.com/overprotective-parents/
Uninvolved [or neglectful] parenting is a parenting style characterized by low responsiveness and low demandingness.
https://www.parentingforbrain.com/uninvolved-parenting/
The missing link for me in this conversation is the circumstances of a family. If your child has additional needs, your parenting is likely to be extreme, because your child’s needs are not straightforward, because you now have to develop “carer” relationships with outside agencies as well as “parent” relationships with your wider family. You have to juggle emotions, physical realities and systems that most families never encounter.
And yet, everyone around you will try to simplify your parenting to fit those simpler families. Even the best professionals find it difficult to fully understand the complexities you are dealing with every single day.
Take the time to get to know the family, or to understand the immediate situation. Let me give you an example:
Miss B is a reception teacher. She has created a fun, nurturing classroom and is passionate about inclusion. She loves all the children in her class and has a particular fondness for those who are a little different. When the children are in class without their parents, all seems fine. Some children may be quieter, but she is providing a tolerant and inclusive space that allows different forms of expression.
J’s mother is frequently very distressed when bringing him into school. She talks about J not feeling safe, she does not agree that he is “fine” in school because he is very sad, upset or angry after school.
Both Miss B and J’s mother have his best interests at heart. But Miss B sees J’s mother as over-protective because her classroom is a safe space and J does not have any behaviour issues at school and gets on with his work. In her eyes, school does not pose any risk.
J’s mother’s day is far, far longer than Miss B realises. J did not sleep, again, because he was so scared to go to school. He may have been unable to eat because his tummy hurts so much. He may have run away into the road on the way to school. When he comes home, he may be hurting himself or his siblings as his anxiety turns to anger and lashing out in the safe space of home. J’s mother has noticed over time that J is much calmer during holidays, but his anxiety escalates in the days leading up to school. In her eyes, school is a highly risky environment.
This post isn’t so much about finding solutions. Today, just try and notice the different perspectives of those you are trying to help. Try and understand that risk is to some extent about perception, and if a parent carer feels that a situation is risky, then it must be considered this way to make progress.
I know that you are aware of risk. You live with it all day, every day, and you are doing an AMAZING job. Because the overwhelming majority of you are absolutely not over-protective. Your are protecting your child, because that is your role as a parent.
That said, I’d like to give you a little something to ponder, to think about in the rare moments that you have time to allow your brain to pause and consider the future (even if the future is only tomorrow, or next weekend).
Risk is also opportunity. Risk is the gateway to growth. And risk does not have to be taken alone.
School may well feel incredibly risky to your little one. And it’s important to acknowledge that, understand why and do your best to reduce whatever is making them feel unsafe. At the same time, you know that Miss B is a good teacher who cares. So how can you lead your child into a situation that you know to be safe, but they feel to be dangerous? Can you lead them into risk so as to make it accessible?
A number of years ago, my youngest was due to go on a school trip for a few days. His medical conditions were complex but the key issue for me was that he was tube fed. He needed regularly tube feeding, and he was fed by pump overnight. I raised the following risks with school:
1. He tended to get tangled up in tubing during the night, sometimes around his neck. I managed that risk as best I could at home, but if he was going away with school, they needed to be aware of potentially fatal risks – how would they manage it?
2. If his “button” (feeding tube) came out, he needed to be within 20 minutes of a hospital. The holiday centre was not, and I realised that the only option in this scenario was a medical helicopter…. quite the thing!!
My son was very anxious about the trip for these reasons but I felt it important that he have the same opportunities as the others (putting my own anxiety aside!!). The next few months became a long effort to help him take risk “safely” and to help school understand that the risk was real and needed serious management.
My solution was to offer my time. I was willing and able to join the group to manage these risks. Sadly, this was initially seen as “overprotective parenting”, but when no other option was put forward, my solution was the one we all agreed to.
It’s important to note. I didn’t join any of the day excursions. I was simply on call in case his button fell out, and I had responsibility for him overnight. Did it go perfectly? No. Were there problems? Yes – but they were small and I allowed school staff to take those risks, make mistakes because life is messy. The important thing is that his life was not at risk.
Every teenager and young adult takes risks. Stupid risks. They make bad decisions and there are consequences – sometimes very serious ones. It’s an important and necessary part of growing up and I think that often it’s a step we or our children try to bypass.
Despite disability, our children will never be able to move into adulthood if they have not had a period of adolescence, of which risk-taking is a crucial part.
Our job as parents is to find the balance. What is the risk they are taking? How can we support them to understand the possible consequences? What responsibility can they have for themselves and what part do we have to retain?
These are incredibly difficult questions and for some young people, there will need to be discussions about their mental capacity to take risk and make decisions. But for the majority, we dance to a much more subtle tune that is fraught with fear for our young people. My experience is that teenagers respond incredibly well to trust and gentle “backseat” support. They want to lead their own lives. To some extent, our job is to allow them to do that and be prepared to help them pick up the pieces if things go wrong.
I’d love to hear your experiences, thoughts, hopes and fears about risk when it comes to children and young adults with additional needs… Comment below!
A carer is anyone, including children and adults who looks after a family member, partner or friend who needs help because of their illness, frailty, disability, a mental health problem or an addiction and cannot cope without their support. The care they give is unpaid.
NHS England
That sounds easy, doesn’t it? If your partner or parent becomes ill and you need to help them, you are a carer. Even in those circumstances, it takes an average of 2 years for someone to realise and accept their new role.
Now imagine that the person requiring care is your child… maybe a baby? How do you disentangle caring responsibilities from parenting responsibilities? After all, no baby can cope without support!
Very few parents of disabled children view themselves primarily as carers. They are simply parents. The fact that parenting in these circumstances bears little resemblance to the experience of others feels irrelevant. We love our children and we will look after them according to their needs.
So why is it sometimes important to differentiate between “parent” and “carer”?
And how can you do it?
Disability in children presents in an infinite variety of ways. This blog is by necessity very general, so you may not recognise your circumstances in what I write. In the blog, I’m trying to be as broad as I can, which can mean that I’m referring to less complex cases. Each family will have a set of unique issues that need considering on their own merits, but hopefully this will give you some points to think about…
Differentiating parenting from caring is much more straightforward with a very young child than later on. The primary needs of feeding, changing, sleeping are largely universal even if your baby or toddler is struggling more than most. You will be spending your time nurturing, reassuring and showering this little bundle with love, all of which sits quite easily under the “parenting” heading.
If your little one has medical issues, the “caring” responsibilities are quite clear. You may have to learn how to tube feed, how to change dressings, how to clear an airway. All clearly tasks that are considerably different to “parenting”. In this scenario, you will also be surrounded by a medical team. There is no doubt that this kind of parenting is extreme and you will also find yourself advocating for your child as you learn more than you ever anticipated in order to keep them safe. For any of you in this situation, I highly recommend The First Breath by Olivia Gordon, who gives a beautiful account of the intertwining relationship between parenting and caring.
For others, you will find yourself parenting in a way you hadn’t considered, but feels reasonably easy because you are responding to your child’s needs. They may not like being around people, they may shy away from certain sounds, clothes… and you just adjust, because you are parenting.
The world has yet to encroach on the family you are building. Demands are fairly low and you are able to enjoy being a parent… albeit you may have noticed some differences between your family and those around you.
As time goes by, systems begin to encroach. Health visitors, quite rightly, will want to see children reaching certain milestones in the “right” order, at the “right” time. In other circumstances, you will have notices things that don’t feel “right” and you may already be fighting to be heard.
And now you have to develop two identities:
Parent: nurturing, observant, anxious when things aren’t right, seeking answers and help.
Carer: objective, clinical, evidence-based, advocate. Because without these qualities, your voice may well go unheard.
There is huge overlap between these two roles, as well there should be. But many of us soon discover that our role as parent is very quickly dismissed. There may well be much talk of “you know your child best”, but when you sense a serious problem chances are that you will be branded an “over-anxious parent”.
As time goes on, more people enter your life and more checks, tests and expectations appear. Some of these will be truly welcome, especially if you have been begging for acknowledgement and help. Some will blindside you. Some will feel intrusive and unwanted. You may find yourself wishing you could stay in your family bubble, where everyone felt safe and accepted as they are.
One of the most important roles you will develop as a carer is that of Advocate. You will be your child’s voice, you will be there to ensure everyone knows when their needs change, or are not being met. With that comes the role of Protector. Many of our children need to be protected from the onslaught of professionals, tests, systems so that they can simply be children. Finding the balance between the necessary appointments and those that could be handled differently will be one of your superpowers.
You will become and Administrator. Reams of paper will appear through your doorstep, emails will fly through the ether to your inbox. If I can offer one piece of advice here, it is to find a way to file all these pieces of information in a way that works for you. Evidence is going to be a word that you will simultaneously love and hate, and each letter is a piece of evidence…
In my more organised days, the following system worked very well indeed. I had one for each child. Each month had a separate folder or part of a file, with a sheet of paper at its front. Whenever a letter appeared, I would note the date, professional and summary on that sheet of paper. I then filed each letter chronologically.
You will learn more about your child’s condition than most professionals will know. This makes you an Expert Parent and you will gain strength and confidence from that label if you can truly believe it. Click on the link to find information about training events that can help you.
Maybe the most fundamental attribute that you will develop as a Carer is the ability to Challenge the Systems.
Parenting is a complicated business, and there are many different “styles” of parenting. But at its heart, parenting is about supporting your child to become an independent adult. It’s a LONG process, that changes depending on your circumstances, your child’s age and needs, the society you live in and even your local community.
Add in disability, and you must also add in a host of observers to your parenting. Healthcare professionals, social workers, school staff, charity workers will all be part of your life and, whether you like it or not, they will also affect your parenting.
All too easily, your “parent” self may well become smaller and smaller.
With a little bit of hindsight now my children are on the cusp of adulthood, I think the one ingredient to look out for it: FUN!
Going out was always really difficult with my three… so we tried (too rarely) to have fun at home. One of my favourite go-tos was the bathtub.
Food colouring when I was out of bath bombs – or we made our own!
Picnics in the bath. Yes. We got favourite messy foods and just ate in the bath. Food fights and generally making a mess was good for everyone.
My children LOVED playing with cornflour and toys like cars. The bath was a wonderful place to make more mess.
Potion making is probably the best. Gather cheap bubble baths, ends of soap bars and old bottles (or better still ask friends who use hotels to collect any small bottles), and make potions!
If you have stopped having fun, it may be time to have a look and see where your parent self is hiding. It may be time to put your carer self in the passenger seat, if only for an hour or so.
One of the most challenging things about being a parent and a carer is that you will be faced with many contradictory messages. And you may well find yourself unable to make decisions alone. What is a simple parenting decision for many becomes a minefield of caring and safeguarding questions where the opinion of several official departments will play a part in your decision.
For example, many people will tell you that part of parenting involves teaching your children to do new things – some of which may well be risky!
Parts of the SEND system will be suggesting that you are being too protective and slowing your child’s independence – but other parts of the system may well be concerned that you are putting your child “at risk” and talking about safeguarding issues.
The reality is that parenting and caring for a child with additional needs are always intertwined, and that many of us are caught in a fishbowl that tremendously limits our options. It can be really helpful to stop and remember that. Remember that as a carer, your parenting choices and independence may be limited through no fault of your own. And don’t hesitate to remind those around you of that reality…
A big topic for another day. When the evening comes and you are reaching the end of the day’s parenting, maybe a lull before a night of caring, ask yourself: did you give any time today for “you”?
In the midst of caring for complex little people (often more than one), we simply lose ourselves. I’d like you to share a moment, a thought, for the unique and wonderful person that is you. She or he may be in hiding at the moment, or hibernating while you concentrate on keeping your children alive. But she or he is still there somewhere, waiting to emerge once again. I wonder who she is, what he likes? I wonder how you are changing in response to this strange world you inhabit as a parent carer?
Tugboat SEND Navigation 