When I was brainstorming ideas for what I really want for Christmas, I discarded my first idea. The main reason was because I didn’t want that post to be about ME. Being a blogger – particularly for someone who writes a great deal about her personal life – is inherently narcissistic, so I wanted to write about something that would benefit someone other than me. The Discover magazine piece revealed to me not only something I want that’s possible, but gave me an idea for a challenge for you, my readers.
But I’ve got a bee in my bonnet so here I am with What I Want, Part Two.
A recurring theme here on the blog is that I’m not special. I’m just like any other mom. Not only do I believe it to be true, but I know it is true, because I live it every day. My circumstances are unique, of course – most people don’t have two natural-born children with disabilities that are neither hereditary nor related in any (known) way. But my life is also pretty typical. I cook, clean, grocery shop, shuttle kids to school, do laundry, drive a station wagon, pay bills, attend church, do volunteer work, and so on.
My life is blissfully ordinary.
This blog started out as something that was all about me. It was about me, for me, and written by me. But I’ve been blessed by the fact that my readership has grown, and I love hearing from each of you who email or comment and tell me that this post or that post touched you or made you laugh. I love knowing that I’ve brought sunshine to someone’s day. And, if I’m being honest, I don’t write for compliments, but they sure do brighten up my day when I receive them. 🙂
So I’ve been thinking about how, right after Nathan was born, so many people told us, “God only gives special children to special parents.” As much as I knew that people’s intentions were good when they said it, and as willing as I was to accept their good intentions, that statement always bugged me.
I’ve finally figured out why it bugged me so much.
In the beginning, I thought it was because I didn’t like being set apart, and that is part of it, to be sure. But it’s more than that. Although I don’t think most people realize what they’re saying when they say it, the truth is that “God only gives special children to special parents” is a double-whammy zinger.
That simple sentence says so much, and not in a good way.
It says that children with Down syndrome are a heavier burden than other children (why else would they need special parents?) So whether they meant to or not, every person who said that to me indicated that my son was going to be such a pain in the rear that only a very few people are capable of handling him.
Does that sound like a compliment?
Now, of course, it’s possible that some people may actually mean, “I wish I was so special that God would give me a special child like yours!”…but I doubt it. Otherwise, they’d say that or something very close to it. I don’t remember anyone looking enviously at me when Nathan was a newborn, though I’ll grant that the post-Caesarean Percocet may have clouded my brain a bit.
The other thing that bugged me is the assumption that there must be something special about me because of the hand I was dealt. Would you say the same thing about other difficulties involving children? Does it take a “special” person to parent a child with cancer, a child who was in a car accident, a child with a drug problem, or a child who is painfully shy?
Parents are just parents. Some are better than others, unfortunately, but I didn’t become “special” in an instant on an evening in March of 2010 (or, for that matter, a Friday morning in December of 2002). I don’t deserve to be placed on a pedestal. If there is anything at all special about me, it is a product of the fact that I have two children who force me to focus on what’s really important. But that doesn’t mean I don’t complain about minutiae, and it definitely doesn’t make me selfless or saintly.
And those two kids? They aren’t saints, either.
I love this post even more than the 1st part.
It’s like when Christians fall back on “God doesn’t give us what we can’t handle,” it’s like a backwards compliment. Not to mention that the statement that I just brought up isn’t even in the Bible. I “love” it when people tell me God gave me a greater purpose. I always want to say “then why am I stuck here with you” (just to see their reaction)
That last part made me laugh out loud! Let me know how it goes over when you do it. 😉
But in all seriousness (and I may catch some heat for this statement), when people suggest that you or I or fill-in-the-blank-person-with-challenges have a higher purpose, it’s a way to let themselves off the hook. If other people are anointed to do the “heavy lifting” as far as God’s concerned, then they can sit back and enjoy a (relatively) easier existence.
The other subtext I see at play when people use that “special” statement is that they can convince themselves that since they aren’t “special” that nothing too terrible is likely to happen to them, because, of course, they wouldn’t be able to handle it.
When you put it like that it doesn’t sound like a compliment. “Special needs” kids aren’t saints I should know I used to be one 🙂
In ‘Evan Almighty’, ‘God’ said a very sensible thing to Evan’s wayward wife – “Let me ask you something. If someone prays for patience, you think God gives them patience? Or does he give them the opportunity to be patient? If he prayed for courage, does God give him courage, or does he give him opportunities to be courageous? If someone prayed for the family to be closer, do you think God zaps them with warm fuzzy feelings, or does he give them opportunities to love each other? ”
Perhaps His blessing of your children is His way of giving you the opportunity to be ‘special’…
I’m with ya! I often feel unworthily praised for my parenting–just because of my son. I am doing the best job I can, like most parents, and I fail every day, like every parent. I am not doing anything differently than any other parent would who wants to do her best. Every parent is faced with challenges, mine are just different, not special. When praised, I always point out that my “typical” child is the real challenge.
Yes! I am so tired of that comment!!!!!!! For all of you out there without “special” kids, please end all of the following or any variations of them:
God only gives special kids to special parents, You’re so brave, You’re so strong, I don’t know how you do it (you may as well tell me I don’t know how you manage to not have a public breakdown for having such a horrible child because that’s how that one comes across)…oh, I could go on and on. It’s already so old, and my child is not even 8 months old.