House of A Writer

Welcome to my blog where I share my special needs parenting journey with my heart, truth, and love, one story at a time. ❤️

Pink shirt day

This has been my submission to One liner Wednesday. Today I support anti bullying awareness and advocate for my children always. ?


An angel with a pink balloon

I’m going to tell you a story about a little girl, let’s call her Sweetie. She had a special event to go to her with Mom and there were going to be pictures. She was dressed in a beautiful dress, frilly with crinoline, lace, socks and shoes. This wasn’t her choice to wear this outfit, but it made her Grandma happy who picked it out especially for her. The trouble was no matter how beautiful the dress was, or how gorgeous sweetie looked in it, it made her miserable. You see sweetie has a neurological condition called Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD). I’ll let Dr. Jean Ayre’s explain it better than I can.

Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD, formerly known as “sensory integration dysfunction”) is a condition that exists when sensory signals don’t get organized into appropriate responses. Pioneering occupational therapist and neuroscientist A. Jean Ayres, PhD, likened SPD to a neurological “traffic jam” that prevents certain parts of the brain from receiving the information needed to interpret sensory information correctly. A person with SPD finds it difficult to process and act upon information received through the senses, which creates challenges in performing countless everyday tasks. Motor clumsiness, behavioral problems, anxiety, depression, school failure, and other impacts may result if the disorder is not treated effectively.


This is why the dress felt uncomfortable on Sweetie’s skin. The crinoline and lace made her feel itchy, and the socks made her feel like her feet and legs were on fire. This may sound like an intense reaction to an outfit for a picture day. But this is how things feel to a child with SPD. The time came for pictures to be taken and poor Sweetie was having a difficult time. Each time the camera flashed or made a clicking sound, her ears were bombarded with the noise. The longer she had to be there looking gorgeous but suffering, caused her body to go into sensory overload. Sweetie’s Mom was watching, waiting, hyper vigilant to help her daughter but feeling helpless. The photographer taking the pictures made comments about Sweetie’s behavior. Her Mom responded to the photographer with “that’s not a very nice thing to say.” Even after her Mom explained that Sweetie has a sensory condition. The useful information wasn’t needed or heeded to help sweetie, and the unprofessionalism continued. The fact that a family picture caused such a negative response from the photographer spoke volumes of her lack of professionalism. She dismissed Sweetie’s Mom with a comment “it’s not my fault you put her in that dress.” Finally the photo session was over and sweetie’s Mom quickly undressed her and put her back into the cotton dress she arrived in. It felt so nice and soft on her skin and didn’t make her feel like a prickly cactus! She even wanted to make her Nana happy and put on her pretty picture dress over top of her cotton one. Dinner and cake were enjoyed by all and then it was time to go home. Sweetie had a pink balloon as a lovely reminder of her Great Grandma’s birthday and looking at it floating around in the car made her happy. Her parents made a quick stop and she changed into her pajamas. Then the unthinkable happened the balloon got loose and floated up into the sky. Poor Sweetie was so sad and broke down crying. And at that moment a woman appeared knocking on the window of the car with another pink balloon! That angel with the pink balloon was there when Sweetie needed her the most. An open door into the spirit of love and giving. The photographer was judgement personified and a closed door. What a simple blessing for a sweet little girl in the gift of a pink balloon. ?


This is a true story that happened to a sweet little girl and her loving Mom. As soon as I read it I felt compelled to tell their story, with their permission. Thank you for reading. ?



The Power of pink

Today I saw a little boy wearing a pink shirt and written on it was stop bullying on pink shirt day. I complimented him and said “I like your shirt.” His blue eyes shone when he looked at me and said “thank you very much.” I replied it was a perfect day to wear it. Seeing him wear that pink shirt gave me courage as I was there at the school to have a meeting with the administration. I prayed that the sweet boy with the blue eyes didn’t get bullied today. If you’ve been following along with the bullying saga my oldest son (the Captain) has been picked on by 3 different kids!!! ? I want to bust some heads, kick some asses, and have a good ole ugly cry. He hasn’t even been in school for a month and he has to deal with this day in and day out. ? I’ve had it, I have to convince him to go to school, try to make friends, but he’s gun shy. And I can’t say I blame him, I would be too. What pray tell gives some little brat the right to go up and hit my kid?!! And as I stated in my previous blog the Captain isn’t asking for it. All kids can be assholish but he’s not that way at school. I’ve watched him, I’ve been given compliments about his behaviour, and told by parents what a great kid he is. And even if he wasn’t gutted from my tummy like a fish, I’d still think he’s awesome!!! Now he’s afraid he’s going to get into trouble for all of this. He stood up to this trouble making boy this time, and said stop it, you’re a bully! And I’m proud he did, but some of these kids just don’t get it. When I was a lot younger and in school, and someone bullied me I took care of business. We all did back then, there was no persistent bullying, because all it took was one shove out of my way and it was resolved. And if it wasn’t you went to the biggest kid on the playground and it soon was. It got more complicated in high school with peer pressure, the desire to fit in, and of course the mob mentality. Seeing my son go through this has angered, hurt, frustrated, and scared me. He has locked himself in his room and just raged at the top of his lungs. It’s heart breaking to see the first reason my heart grew 3 x’s its size, the day I became his Mom, suffering. He’s deeply hurting and acts out at home out of pure anger. ? This crisis has shown me how cruel people can be. My friends and I we’re discussing how we’ve waited on pins and needles when our child gets home and how you hope, pray, and beg to the heavens that they were left alone. And how we hope these kids will grow out of this detrimental behaviour, instead of into it, and become bigger bullies. So I’ve done all I can do and I’m leaving it in the administrations hands. And if it’s not dealt with immediately, and a little brat lays a hand on my kid I’ll go directly to the parent and demand action to be taken. Hell hath no fury like a Mama bear protecting her cubs. ❤️