What Disability Do I Have, Mommy?

Well, I was hoping I would have more time before my son asked this question. However, today while he was having a snack he asked the question, "What disability do I have, Mommy?"

It hit me like a ton of bricks. Like most parents, I look at my son and see all the potential he has. Memories flash in my mind of when he was a baby. I have huge dreams for him. Even though I have come to acceptance that he has austim spectrum disorder, actually telling him that he has this is a very difficult thing to do.

The conversation started with handicapped parking spots. He points out the signs when we go places. He asks why they are blue, why the signs have a picture of a wheelchair. I explained how back in the 1990s a law was passed called the Americans with Disabilities Act. When that law was passed a lot of changes were made to public places to make it easier for people who are in wheelchairs and have other disabilities to access buildings and places more easily.

He then asks me the question, "What disability do I have, Mom?" I could have explained right there all about autism spectrum disorder and attention deficit disorder. Instead, I returned his question with a question. "Who told you that you have a disability?" I felt defensive. How dare someone tell my son that he has a disability. Whoever this person is, they were going to get an earful from me, the mamma bear. His response was, "No one, Mommy." Then he continued to eat his snack and did not bring it up again.

Eventually it will come up again. Mercy, he goes to four different therapies during the week. He asks me why I take him to speech, OT and PT. My response is to help him have a happier life. He asks me why Mr. Dan comes to the house. Mr. Dan is the ABA therapist. I tell him to also help him have a happier life.

My son is only five. Very smart kid. Recently, the weather has become more like spirng and we open the windows to let in some fresh air. He was asking my husband (Daddy) to please close the windows because he has allergies and the tree pollen gets in the house and he sneezes and his allergies hurt. He knows he is different, but can't quite explain why. I want to have more time to explain it to him. Explain it to him in a way that does not use his diagnoses as any reason for him to not try hard in life. I want to protect him, at the same time, I want to empower him. Mostly, I just want to love him and have him know that he is loved.

I will be better at getting the conversation rolling. All this time I have been concerned about his development and how therapies are progressing. While I also have another thing to think about, what children's stories to find that will help answer his question, "What disability do I have, Mommy?" I need to prepare myself for that, for it will be much better if the information comes from Mommy and Daddy rather than someone else. He is a sensitive child, I am concerned what his response will be when he is told that, yes, he does have a disability.

I wish it was something as easy as looking in the mirror with him and saying, yes son you have brown hair and brown eyes. Your eyes are a lot like mine. However, I get so emotional just thinking about how to tell him. Mostly, I will focus on loving him, loving him through easy days and not so easy days. Loving him as only I can, because I am his mother.