The In Stepps Mom
By Lindsey Lewis
Dedicated to all the wonderful mothers that allow us into their homes every day.
We work in a unique field in which we find ourselves in the
private sanctuary of those we work with--their home. I think it can be easy to
forget how personal and intrusive our services can be when we lug our bags of
toys in the front door every day for two (or more) hours, move around the
living room or yard or kitchen, ask for accommodations, and make ourselves
comfortable. I can’t help but think: most mothers use their homes as their
refuge from the world; a place to keep their children safe and warm, a place to
nurture their marriages, a place for privacy and solitude. A place they can let
their hair down, put their feet up, and feel most at ease.
And then I think of the “In Stepps Mom.” I think of her
home, her life, and the strength she may not see in herself. But we think the In
Stepps Mom is super woman.
She is a woman that wakes up every morning with a schedule.
And I’m not talking about a schedule like dropping the kids off, going to yoga,
a lunch date, or a trip to the mall. I am talking a schedule that includes more
acronyms than any mother should know: PT, OT, ABA, SDC, IEP, RCOC, PC, DI, IFSP,
BIP. Her day requires planning from start to finish. She is the first to wake
up and the last to go to bed; her life is in constant movement.
She is a woman that has allowed her home to become grand
central station; an endless revolving door of play dates, activities, meetings, and services on top of every day
routines like bathing, meals, and cleaning. The walls around her are covered in
visuals, schedules, and data sheets.
She is a woman who does not think about herself, but
constantly thinks of her children. She struggles to balance the needs of her child(ren)
with autism with her other children; trying to find a way to show each of them
the abundance of love she has, even though she is stretched so thin.
She is the woman who is home, every day, at the same time
for therapists and consultants. She puts aside her own needs and schedule so
her child can receive hours and hours of therapy. She opens her door to strangers
who, over time, become part of her daily routine and her family.
She is the woman who has dealt with ugliest of tantrums and
the pickiest of eaters. She has dealt with the judgmental stares of those that have
not walked in her shoes and the unsolicited advice of family and friends. She
has dealt with the most devastating setbacks and the most celebratory triumphs.
She has dealt with tears—tears of anger, tears of pain, tears of sorrow, and
tears of joy. Yet, in all that she has dealt with, she opens her door with a
smile and allows us in.
She is the woman who offers us coffee or water, when she
herself has yet to sit down and take a sip of anything. She asks about our families,
spouses, children, and lives before sharing anything about her day. She stops
herself from complaining and venting (even when she has every right to both)
and keeps moving, eager to see what progress the session will bring.
She is the woman who trusts what we do, the advice we give,
and embraces the support we provide. She challenges herself to change her own
behavior to better the daily living of her children and family. She has learned
that every decision she makes has a consequence that can affect her child and she
may weigh her choices more heavily than most.
She is a woman who is moving to overcome her fear of the
word “autism.” She has googled every therapy, every vendor, every doctor. She
can anticipate a tantrum before anyone else can sense it. She can understand
the unclear language of a child that once could not speak. She can see the way
her child shows love, even if it is not through hugs, kisses, and words. She is
a woman who sees past stereotypic behaviors, limited language, and having to
assist the most basic of skills and she sees the child she knows inside and
out. The child she loves. The child she fights for. The child she advocates
for. The child she believes in. The child that makes the entire journey worthwhile. Instead of breaking down in grief, she has
stepped up and marched on.
The In Stepps Mom and her home are special. She does not always
get to relax, kick up her feet, and enjoy quiet at the end of the day. She has
little to no privacy. Her hair may not be washed, there may be dishes piling in
the sink, and the laundry is scattered all over the couch. She is tired,
hungry, stressed, and anxious, yet she is giving everything she has to give. She
does it for her family. She sacrifices so much and asks for so little because of
the love she has for her children. Even on the darkest of days, she does not
quit; she does not let the challenges get the best of her. She does not use her
front door to shut the world away once she is inside; she allows the world in
for her child. Her home is the heart of her day, and she is the heart of her
home.
Happy Mother’s Day to the amazing women and moms we have the
privilege of working with every day.
We admire you so!
