The Best Laid Plans.. I

This post originally appeared on Firefly.

My mum has always said that nobody should ever have a first baby. Much better to start with a second when you have all the relevant experience.

In a similar spirit of helpful but impossible advice I offer you a planning schedule recommended to be in place before giving birth to a child with Additional Needs.

 

You are most welcome.

 

Do not have a prior history of depression, or any health needs physical or mental of your own.

You won’t have time for them. No professionals will ever think of asking after your health, so really there’s no point.

 

Knowledge of law or education, preferably to degree level is highly advised. Without these the Local Authority may attempt to tell you that you are not entitled to expensive things, that you really need and actually are.

 

Career ambition for yourself is not necessary, you will be required to cancel meetings, work days and other plans at the drop of hat to fit in appointments, which mysteriously seem to congregate together within a fortnight. You can of course cancel and rebook, but that risks being labelled a difficult parent. It won’t be written anywhere, but everyone will know you are.

 

Ambition generally is a dangerous thing, imagining you could go out alone or with a partner is optimistic, on some days going to the toilet alone will be completely beyond your capability. Believing your child deserves a place in society is also problematic. Being prepared to settle for less can lead to reduced emotional stress and, therefore, peace.

 

An independent income, preferably from a Trust Fund or inherited wealth will make your life easier and less of a drain on the state. It also ensures that you don’t have to discuss your family’s difficulties or finances with well-intentioned Charities. Think of the time you could save writing crowd funding requests!

 

Ensure that you are a very young parent, in peak physical condition and that this is your only child.

 

Be certain that you are an older parent that cares less and that this is at least your second child.

 

Be in an extremely stable relationship with a healthy, resourceful and emotionally aware partner.

 

Be a single parent with an incredibly supportive family and friends, you don’t have time for a relationship anyway.

 

Ensure your house is on one level with total accessibility to all rooms and hoists. You may not need them now but plan ahead.

 

Nurture friendships with young, fun but responsible people who can drive, and display a maturity beyond their years, not for themselves, you understand, but they have Personal Assistant potential.

 

Test your remaining friends by constantly cancelling plans at the last minute and taking weeks to respond to their texts. If they don’t like it, you may as well ditch them now.

 

 

 

This then is my recommendation to you. I myself have opted for the all the gear and no idea approach to special needs parenting. On most days I actually seem like I know what I’m doing, on others-well there’s always cake and cynicism.

 

To finish I’ll share another gem from the mothership. She has always maintained that no matter how you parent, or what mistakes you make, as long as there is love in your home everything else will smooth itself out. And, in this at least, I think she’s right

 

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Not Safe For Work.

Parenting can leave your personal life in tatters, your emotions wrung out, and as for your libido, well, nuff said.

Being a parent carer of someone with Additional Needs can magnify this, and many relationships buckle under the strain.

Luckily I had the foresight to marry someone 23 years ago who would easily be able to support me on this journey and who I also continue to fancy the pants off. Lucky is the operative word here, how could we possibly know at the tender ages of 25 and 26 what our lives would become? We were babies!

Anyway, that’s not the point. Despite childcare demands and the menopause (and if you are related to me you may want to LOOK.AWAY.NOW) which has had an unexpected effect on my-lets say drive-my body appears to have thrown caution to the wind, aware that reproduction is no longer a threat.

This is a brief explanation of how I nearly managed to scare a Social Services support worker, and how despite being 48 have so far failed to do grown up.

One day, after a run, I returned home glowing, and full of endorphins to an empty house. I was wearing s cute hat stolen from the eldest child (it was winter) and was looking, #imho, pretty fine.

Flinging my clothes off pre shower, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and was happy with what I saw. (Oh if only I appreciated myself as much when I really was glorious in those teenage years before everything became overused and droopy, as I do now in (gulp) middle age.

I digress.
Sexting is really not a thing for my generation (feel free to disagree and share-I dare you!) but for some reason, the endorphins, the cuteness of the hat, the HRT, I felt it would be appropriate to take a cheeky, topless shot. Not totally topless obvs -I was after all wearing a hat! This for the benefit of Father of Pearl. Just to remind him.

Sniggering like the  teenager I never was (my version was sensible and religious) I  fortunately texted him before pressing send.

“Are you on your own I have a picture for you”(winky face)

 

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Panicked reply.

“No,NO.NO I”M NOT I’M IN A MEETING!!!!!!”

Thank you, thank you, God that I had the 48 year old foresight to text ahead, specifically as I had not realized all texts run live down the side of the ridiculously large computer screen in the Blue Beck offices.

As my running high wore off remembered. The cloud! It was a thing! We had it! We all shared it including my teenagers!

Frantic texts followed

“Will that picture be on the cloud? Can the children access  it ?Who can see it????

Shit, shit, shit.

“WILLYOUPLEASERESPONDTOMYTEXTS!!!!”

Anyway it was finally sorted, deleted, cleared normal life resumed. I decided as a passion kindler sexting was not for me.

Back in the real world of additional needs.

Pearl receives direct payments for Personal Assistant employment. Every 6 months or so a Family Support Worker comes to visit to check we are using them appropriately and what’s occurring Chez Pearl.

Pearl had, since her last visit taken part in a play, modelling contract or some-such of which I was inordinately proud.

I sat down next to Mrs Family Support to show her the photos.

Scrolling though as you do (note to self never scroll through photos next to someone. At best it’s boring)  I suddenly appeared. Sans top and plus a rather fetching hat.

I have never ever, ever, swiped a phone so hard or so quickly. A blur (I hoped) of pale flesh. Cheeks on fire, I said, with a nonchalance I did not feel.

“Oh my days what was that? I don’t know what the was !”(nice try Pinocchio)

And then, because I’m a really good parent

“What have those kids been doing with my phone?”

Thus throwing into question my parenting of said teenagers.

Did she see?

Did she know?

What must she of thought?

I think she must have, I think she would have known?!

How did the ****ing photo remain on the ****ing phone when I’d deleted it with such assurance?!

Even my tech guy (and he is good) doesn’t know.

The epilogue to this sorry tale of middle aged desire.

My children have not been removed. My husband thinks I’m hilarious. No teenagers saw anything that would have embarrassed me and mortified them.

Better yet the entire staffing  of Social Services has been restructured and we have a new family support worker.

I am a grown up

I am!

Happy Valentines day to one and all!