Who woulda thought Jenny McCarthy would hit the nail on the head?

I've tried several times to express to the two or three people that read this blog regularly what it is like to find out you have a "different" child.

I happened across something written on CNN.com today by former "Singled-Out" hottie Jenny McCarthy re: finding out her son has autism. You can read the whole piece here, but below is an excerpt which cuts to the quick:

I almost felt betrayed, like I didn't know this child standing in front of me. Everything I thought was cute was a sign of autism and I felt tricked. I guess the doctor sensed this from me because he turned my head back toward him and said, "He is still the same boy you came in here with."
No, in my eyes he wasn't. This was not Evan. Evan was locked inside this label, and I didn't know if I would ever get to know who Evan really was. All the behaviors I had thought were personality traits were autism characteristics, and that's all I had. Where was my son, and how the hell do I get him back?

Who woulda thought a former object of my desire would be able to encapsulate such a hard thing in beautiful words. Good work Jenny!

I have a child-man

The Progress-Index had an article yesterday about Mandy Marchiano being chosen to represent Colonial Heights at the Youth Leadership Forum, a program for disabled teens that helps them build networking skills and hang out with their peers.

I don't know the Marchiano family, eventhough they go to the same church as my family. I do remember the news of the accident that took away so much of Mandy's youth.

The news is filled with stories of childrens' lives being changed in an instant. The young girl that had her feet severed at an amusement park yesterday is a very fresh example.

The point is that families with "special" kids have a child that's a mix between an adult and a kid. What do I mean? C. can't walk without the assistance of braces and a walker. He doesn't fuss. He just plows through. C. has learned the idea of patience when it's absolutely necessary, which is a pretty grown up idea.

Don't get me wrong, C. acts like a 4 year old because he is one. He does have some tendencies that amaze me and make me stop and say, "Wow! He's more mature than me!"

The tough part is trying to make sure that the adult side of C.'s personality never extinguishes the part of him that laughs when he farts in the tub, wrestles the dog, or loves SpongeBob Squarepants.

Colonial Heights Loses a Great Teacher

As I've mentioned before, my 4 year old son has special needs. The awesome thing about living in Colonial Heights is that they have a public special education preschool. This is a resource that should be available to all families with special needs preschoolers in Virginia, but that is for another post.

C.'s teacher of 2 1/2 years, Ali Smith, has decided not to return next year. This makes me and my wife B. very sad. Mrs. Smith is a shining example of what a teacher should be. She's patient with a group of kids that can easily try anyone's patience. While there is a whole team of teachers that has helped C., Mrs. Smith has been there every step of the way. She's seen C. go from a non-communicative 2 year old that couldn't get around without crawling to a precocious 4 year old that can cruise with the best of them with his walker.

Best of all, I've seen first hand how personally Ali takes the progress and welfare of all of her students. We feel like we're losing an extended family member.

Good luck Mrs. Smith. You will be missed.

When You Realize Your Child Isn't Like Everyone Else

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My son C. has special needs. That's a simple sentence. But that sentence is probably one of the heaviest statement a parent can say.

This isn't a "woe is me" type of post. This is a post that is meant to try to illustrate the complex flurry of emotions a parent goes through during the initial realization that your child is going to be "different."

My wife found out that our son C. had hydrocephalus during an ultrasound. We were completely thrown for a loop. We had already done an amniocentesis, by my urging of my wife, with no indications of any "issues." I actually didn't attend the ultrasound because I figured we'd been given a clean bill of health. My wife called me with the news. Your mind immediately starts spinning. Wonderful and terrible thoughts immediately claim stake to your brain and begin a vicious war. Panic typically wins for a while. Anything said usually is something you regret. I know I said some things to my wife, which she's forgiven me for, but I will continually apologize to her.

My son is now 4 going on 5. He's made miraculous progress and I'm so glad we have him in our lives. People still look at him when he walks with his little kid walker, but his smile and awesome attitude usually disarms anyone's preconceived notions.

Last night we had an acquaintance at church relay to us that one of their children has some special needs. I saw in this lady's face the questioning look and could almost hear the thoughts fighting inside her head.

The good news is that God means all things for good for those that believe in him. Relying on that will help eventhough it's so easy to forget that promise in the midst of such a personal storm.