Sometimes I feel like my feet are firmly planted in two completely different parenting universes.

Today the 13 year old left on a two and a half week long trip to Europe with the grandparents. They’ve been planning this trip for two years and it finally got to come to fruition. She’s been packing for at least six days, and we’re beyond excited for her to get a chance to take this trip at 13. I’ve felt incredibly grateful that she’s got this opportunity and cannot wait for her to experience the world beyond her bubble this summer. When she gets back, the rest of her summer will be a revolving door of sports camps, sleepovers, walking to Target, hanging with friends- she will live up every moment of the summer. Except the ones where she sleeps in til noon- but that’s to be expected right?

Today I took my ten year old to Costco because he wanted a water table.

He told me this morning, “EMLEE PLAYING IN THE WATER MAKES ME FEEL HAPPY.” We’ve seen water tables randomly lately and he has been super drawn to them. Water is most definitely a sensory seeker’s dream come true- it can literally overwhelm all five senses. So we went to Costco and bought a water table.

See what I mean about parenting in two different universes?

Last week at speech therapy on what was the first official day of summer vacation, Julie asked him what he wanted to do this summer.

“CHILL. FLOAT IN THE POOL.”

She kept pushing him for some more activities.

“I DO NOT WANT TO DO NOTHING.”

And then my heart broke into a million pieces.

Summers with a special needs kid are different. They’re not summer camps and play dates and sleepovers. To be honest, a few years ago I stopped even looking at the potential summer camps for his age group. One year I was full of hope, convinced this was going to work and he was going to get to do a summer camp. I emailed the director and explained the fact that he has autism, and spends a lot of time in general ed classroom in school, and that he’s all around awesome. She responded back that it didn’t sound like it would be a good fit. Between her and the lady who when he was 3 told me he couldn’t play on a toddler soccer team and I should contact Special Olympics instead, it’s gotten super easy to just assume nobody’s willing to give him a chance. And for awhile I thought he didn’t care, that he was fine just hanging out with us at home and doing random fun things throughout the summer.

“I DO NOT WANT TO DO NOTHING.”

In this other parenting universe, I lay in bed at night and wonder if I did too much for him today. I wonder if we are teaching him all the skills he needs to be independent, I wonder when someone WILL take a chance on him. I laugh at the random things he told me during the day. Tonight I’ll smile thinking about the water table. I’ll start to think about tomorrow, and what we could do with our somewhat endless possibilities, even if they truly aren’t endless.

But here’s the thing: he shouldn’t have to do nothing. There should be opportunities. There should be inclusive summer programs. And not everything will be a good fit, and I don’t want to force things where they shouldn’t work- but damnit, something, someone should be willing to bring these kids in. And I know it’s a hard and probably daunting prospect, and maybe you don’t know where to begin? But ask. Our kids want to be included, they deserve to be a part of something awesome during the summer.

In this other parenting universe, today we spent 3.5 hours building a Kiwi Co. box, because I’ll be f-ing damned if we sit around and do nothing this summer. He was pretty excited about the prospect of having his own (thanks YouTube for teaching him about them) and did the project 90% solo. I was damn proud.

So when you ask about what our summer plans are- we’ll be here, with our water table, and our Kiwi Co. Crate subscription. (10/10, highly recommend, btw) Definitely some chilling. For sure floating in the pool. 100% guarantee of red popsicles in our freezer and cold Sprite.

And no matter which parenting universe I find myself in, we won’t be doing nothing.

Published by emandu

34. Football. Ohio State Everything. Goldendoodles. Reading. Matt Nathanson. Cold air, even when it's 32 degrees. Wife, mother, friend. Passionate. Clumsy. Autism parent. Discovering that the destination isn't nearly as important as the journey.

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