Noah's 7th Halloween down in the books of special needs family history.
I feel like Noah is my constant teacher. But instead of just giving me
the answers when I'm wrong he forces me to learn via trial and error.
After six years of trying to put Noah
in Halloween costumes (minimal at that), Noah just couldn't get past
that dreaded sensory gag reflex that led to uncontrollable vomiting.
Year seven - I thought I'm simply torturing this poor little boy all in
the name of a silly holiday ritual in which kids
gather too much sugar by holding a beggar bag at someone's front door.
This year, we were blessed with a foundation who provided a Rolling
Buddy costume for Noah. A really cool airplane that attached to his
wheelchair. Noah only has one wheelchair with
arm rests (because he wraps around his arms - even with arm blockers
and hooks himself). I had a base but no seat on an old model Noah had
outgrown. It took many months but I at least got a seat for an old
frame. Although it has Noah's name embroidered
in the back he's acting as if it doesn't belong to him. I suspect that
the harness is not comfortable and is a sensory trigger for him - and
the seat came too small - although he fits on it, the seat is make-shift
at best. The chair of Noah's dreams? I
think not. He rejected it and thereby rejecting the only wheelchair ride he has
that could even attempt to accommodate his airplane wheelchair costume.
Yet a certain sadness loomed in Noah's eyes. An understanding of
being left behind. A look that will tug on every single heart string any
mother has. Chris and I looked at each other trying to figure out a
plan. What do we do? We risk him gagging and being
on sensory overload if we leave the house. But create a painful
childhood memory for him if we were to leave him behind. So, the
decision was made Noah would simply walk around the block with us,
without a costume in the wheelchair he is currently most comfortable
being in. We took two Halloween bags, Luke was so on point one would
have thought we coached him into making sure Noah was also presented
with a piece of candy at each home. Even if a neighbor thought or
assumed perhaps Noah didn't need a treat, Luke was
quick to say I need one for Noah. Perhaps those words coming from an
adult may have been perceived as rudeness, but out of the mouth of babes
and a devoted little brother - was remarkable.
Noah full of smiles and laughter - perhaps more so as he realized Luke
had his back, found his way to being fully capable of handling each time
someone opened their door to greet him. Granted, that was done with
generally some significant distance as the homes
in our area are full of a multitude of stairs just to get to a front
door. But we still made it work. Noah was doing so well in fact that
we went around the entire block. The darkness and comfortable
temperature likely helped minimize and defuse sensory
overloads. I must admit my neighbors go all out for Halloween - I had
no idea I feel like I live in a box and haven't been able to join the
masses due to Noah's needs. One home had a set up that I swear was like
watching poltergeists march back and forth
in their upstairs bedroom windows. Cool, freaky and totally effective
in giving the oldest of adults goosebumps. Who knew that such
decorations even existed! I can't say that I wasn't intrigued enough to
spend an extra amount of time in their driveway watching
their fake spirits pace back and forth.
I'm not sure what it is with that big bad motion detector spider that
jumps out - but that darn thing made me jump; it made Luke tear up; and
Noah laugh hysterically at the fact that his little brother almost peed
his pants. Was a typical brotherly moment.
Chris wasn't exempt from his own neighborly nightmare - a man without
a face standing in the middle of the street to scare a passerby. His
movements so classic horror movie that really it was truly disturbing on
every level. We both wanted a way from it
(him/her) quickly. The boys likely less affected than us -
ironically. But mom and dad got the heebie jebbies. In fact thinking
about it makes me want to crawl under my covers.
The boys came home with generous amounts of candy. Although Luke can
eat candy, Noah watches with tremendous envy. We scooped up Luke's
entire loot and passed him only a mini bag of M&M's and put the rest
on top of the refrigerator - out of sight out of mind.
Noah's face showed a sign of relief. He didn't feel as if he was doing
without. And then the Switch Witch was put on my field of vision...
finally like this giant light bulb went off. The Switch Witch could
come and take all the candy away and leave Noah
and Luke both mutual non-edible gifts. That is like special needs
parenting perfection.
Both children on equal ground, both children get workable gifts, mom
even maybe avoids an unnecessary trip to the dentist... dad scores
because he can donate the candy to his work - it's like a win win for
everyone! I just might give the Switch Witch as
much of an even playing field as the Tooth Fairy.
I'm just glad we made it work. I'm glad that after all these years that
Noah didn't get sick or have to suffer through a Halloween. That
perhaps allowing Noah to be just who he is - all 365 days of the year is
what he needs - and that's okay. There is nothing
saying that our Halloweens have to resemble anything "typical." Being
the norm is over-rated anyway.
-A bit of special needs unpredictability - now that's how we roll.
Looking for other creative candy donation options to dispose of candy for your non-oral eater? Check out
Candy for Heroes
Love,
Noah's Miracle by
Stacy Warden is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
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