(More) tales of the unexpected

Wow. I am reeling. Seriously in shock.

We’ve seen LB onto his school bus (which is now a car) for years and years and years. I’ve lost any inhibitions about being seen in public (and we live on a very public street) in pyjamas, daggy dressing gowns, frightwig hairhead as I’ve waved him off. And he’s never once waved back.

Today, as usual, I shouted “Have a good day LB!” as he ran towards the bus (car).

“YOUHAVEAGOODDAYTOOMUM!”, he shouted.

Whoa.

Did.he.really.just.say.that? Really?

So, this little dude, who countless health professionals have consistently never, ever EVER suggested any positive outcomes in terms of his development or future, has again completely floored me by responding in that way. Just shows how completely deficit focused the medical profession is. And how unnecessarily vile and distressing that is for parents of disabled children to deal with for so many years.

It also highlights how little people generally understand dudes like LB, and what an enormous gap that is for society generally.  Just this week I was on the train to Newcastle and the woman sitting opposite asked me what the study I was reading was about.

“It’s about mothers of disabled children”, I replied.

“Oh, that’s sad,” she commented instantly.

Then she said “I don’t know why I just said that.”

“No,” I said. “Well I sort of do.”

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