sensory processing disorder

Whether you're a parent with a child with autism or hosting a family with one.
He sees his brother receive so much of our time and energy.
Do you know what a family in crisis looks like? Would you be able to tell? I am not talking about the crises that are apparent
Forming a community of parents, writing about our agonizing moments of self-doubt and shame when we lose it and scream back at our screamers, allow us to feel less alone during the isolating and terrifying journey of raising babies and young kids.
I had so many judgments about parenting... before I was a parent. More specifically, before I was a parent to two kids with special needs. I was sure I knew the magic formula to raising creative, inquisitive, polite, humble children -- full of curiosity and bursting with energy for seasonal crafting projects. I was kind of an ass. A well-intentioned ass.
To be honest, I first thought I'd send you a short private response by email, saying, "Please seek professional help." I stand by that advice. Certainly, not having any details -- and being journalist, not a doctor -- my answer would naturally be measured and limited. But I can help you see your predicament through a family lens.
The world around me is a sharp, bitter, devastating blow.
I've become a different mom by witnessing the mystery, complexity and seismic hope in my child's future. I've felt how my strength and my belief in my child helps provide fuel for his flourishing.
Some of the sounds, smells and sensations that come with the fun can cause overwhelm.
It's more than “hatred of sound,” “chewing rage,” or “sound rage."
Sometimes being a Supermom means we have to look out for those other Supermoms as well. Letting each other know we are not alone and sometimes taking an extra 10 seconds to really find out if someone is okay or not could make a world of difference.
When we create conditions that help the child's brain perceive differences better, the brain gets new information with which the child can then make sense of herself, of her experiences, and of the world around her. When you do this, you are connecting with your child. She begins to get out of her fog and can begin to connect more with you.
Zoey is 3 years old, she's diagnosed with autism, global delay, ADHD, dyspraxia of speech, and severe sensory processing disorder. That is hard enough for me to understand, never mind the idea of my 4 year old understanding it.
Today, my sensitivity isn't a hindrance, it's my guide: I write daily poetry on twitter, I paint, and I share my candid perspective in essays like this one and in my upcoming novel. I work with the homeless when I can, connect with other moms of special needs children, and spend a lot of time trying to parent from my gut. Sensitivity is a heavy burden -- because it's made of gold.
Imagine dating someone who has these sensory overload experiences known as Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD). I'd like to offer some dating advice for those who are involved with such a special, magical person.
For the last four months, my son has been severely depressed, buried in a down comforter desiring only to attach to a computer or snuggle with a pillow. I've feared losing him. He's rarely been willing to leave the house or often his room.
It's supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year. And yet for many years, in our family, it was one of the worst. After finally getting his diagnosis, and learning more and more about my son's needs, we have taken a much different approach to celebrating the holidays.
Gastrointestinal (GI) problems are common in children with autism. That is not an earth-shattering statement and I have blogged about that before. Studies have shown GI problems to be prevalent in 24-70 per cent of the autism population.
As a parent who has dealt with the uncertainty of undiagnosed delays, my heart goes out to all parents who do not know the source of their children's sensory issues, including Ms. Hanscom. Self-blame can be the easier way to cope when the alternative is to embrace the unknowable.