As I found myself trapped in a traffic jam on my way to drop off my son at preschool, frustration welled up inside me. Cars were stalled on the road leading to the school, while police redirected traffic elsewhere. My initial reaction was annoyance—my son would be late, and I would miss important work commitments.
After I dropped him off, I explained my tardiness to his teacher and learned that an unfortunate house fire had occurred nearby, leaving the family homeless. Suddenly, my earlier worries felt insignificant. I shifted my thoughts from my own inconveniences to the family affected by the fire. Did they escape safely? Did they have a place to stay? In that moment, I realized how self-centered I had been, only considering how the traffic jam impacted me. It struck me then that my son’s challenges were akin to a traffic jam.
My son has ADHD, which often leads to daily meltdowns. Triggers can range from frustration with schoolwork to struggles with social interactions. These outbursts are his way of coping with overwhelming feelings. In the past, I reacted with anger, telling him to “calm down” or “act his age.” If we were out in public, I felt the weight of judgment from other parents, who looked at us with disdain. In my attempts to distract him with games on my phone, I was missing the bigger picture.
Rather than acknowledging my son’s feelings during his meltdowns, I tried to suppress them. But why should I expect him to be perpetually happy when I, as an adult, experience a full range of emotions? It’s normal to feel upset or frustrated, and for a child with ADHD, managing these emotions can be even more challenging. While adults often handle their feelings through conversation or activities like exercise, young children are still figuring out how to self-soothe.
Now, when my son melts down, I focus on recognizing his feelings and discussing them calmly. By remaining composed, I help him regain his own sense of calmness. However, this approach becomes more complicated in public settings. When others witness my son’s outburst, they often react as if he’s a mere inconvenience—a traffic jam that disrupts their experience.
Imagine a couple enjoying a nice dinner who suddenly faces a loud, crying child next to them. They may not realize that the child is overwhelmed and struggling with their emotions. Instead of considering the underlying cause, their irritation takes precedence, much like my earlier annoyance at the traffic jam. If only they understood the complexities of my son’s experience, perhaps their judgment would transform into compassion.
As a parent of a child with special needs, I urge others to refrain from quick judgments. Special needs children are not mere obstacles; they have their own struggles that often go unseen. Just as there’s a reason behind a traffic jam, the same applies to a child’s meltdown. Practicing compassion can go a long way—both for the child and their parents.
If you know the parents, be supportive, but avoid offering unsolicited advice. They are the ones who understand their child best and what strategies work for them. However, let them know you are there to help, as support is invaluable for parents of special needs children.
Now that you have a glimpse into the lives of special needs kids and their families, the next time you encounter a traffic jam—literal or metaphorical—take a moment to pause. Instead of reacting with impatience, consider what might be causing the disruption. Embrace compassion and understanding. You might just find a great song playing on the radio, and soon enough, the traffic will flow smoothly again.
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In summary, let’s strive for understanding and empathy towards the unique challenges faced by special needs children and their families. By doing so, we create a more compassionate community.