Blog Shutdown

I almost shut this blog. I almost stopped. After all, it’s not about natural hair like when I first started blogging. It’s not about Christian marriage… It’s about Homeschooling, and at that, special needs specifically.

So? Why would I want to shut the blog down?

I’ve alluded multiple times to relatives who hate that I educate my children myself. I’ve alluded to the disliking of us having adopted. But last week it came to a head. My own mother has been the instigator and passer-on of a lot of negative things. I have a friend who wants to blame nastiness on old age. Nope. I’ve met many elderly people who are still kind, thoughtful and caring. Age is never an excuse for cruelty- unless dementia is confirmed.

I was thrown for a loop last week. I’m viewed as lazy, good for nothing, blamed alone for the decisions my husband and I both make. Even going on a long mission trip out the country is viewed by my Adventist relatives as a crime I committed and forced my poor husband to take. Cos hey, he’s employed, I’m not. I forced him to spend months unemployed too! Would love to have that much control over a man! Drag him to East Africa!

But the worst was the unwarranted attack on my children. My adoptees will NEVER be accepted. And my twins are viewed as a punishment from God for my having adopted against the will of my mother and this relative.

I know I have an adoptive mom follower who has commented before. It’s the most painful thing to have no love from your children’s grandmothers. It’s painful to know that even years after their adoption, they are still not welcome. Not wanted. By so-called Christians.

So, I almost shut the blog. If they view my blessings as curses, how much more would they have fun mocking while celebrate the different abilities they have?

But upon discussion with my husband, we felt… Who cares!? It’s on THEM if they want to be evil about innocent children. Thankfully, because we already have no physical nor phone contact with these relatives, it’s not like they’ll come to our children and comment on their lives. The guardians we have appointed should we both die aren’t part of the family, so even after death they’ll be far away from the toxic people. My twins have only met their grandmother twice in their almost three years of life. Note that I know, even that is a shorter length of time than will happen in the future. Same with my adopted kiddies. And therefore my bio ones too. We are a unit. We are one. You hate some, you hate all. You hate my children, you hate ME. And I don’t CARE.

So, I’ll keep writing my truth.

No shutting the blog down.

I deserve the chance to celebrate my children as I see fit. I deserve the right to share my African experience with the mom who will come after me, unsure of where to start, what’s a normal behaviour in a certain child, how to access therapy, and how not to feel guilty when it’s not within their means.

My son thrived with what I was already doing. What his OT said I should do, I was already doing and some of the things she’d say we should one day try, I’d already done. I want to be the voice of the mom who already is therapist and therefore doesn’t NEED to take their child where they’ll be uncomfortable. (My son would be terrified by the combination of a strange environment and loud sounds. Like someone vacuuming in a different room to where his therapy was happening. Or the speech therapist whose dad and brother used noisy welding equipment during therapy, or whose mother cooked smelly bacon (She had to fetch air freshener because my son couldn’t handle it he overwhelming smell.)

Sometimes we parents know our children’s needs better than any therapist. And I want to share that with the scared mom who feels guilty for the therapies they can’t afford. Do what you are doing. Ask for home programmes. And don’t forget, lots of therapy is geared at issues your child himself has no problem with. They might be very comfortable only wearing cotton. So stick to the cotton Till you can do sensory therapy to enable them to wear more fabrics.

Take your time. Do what is necessary. And give yourself grace. Remember, many African children are in a worse place than yours is. Don’t look at the rich folk. Look at how rich you are in love. Build a safe space at home. And find out about government services in your province.

We’re in this together. I won’t stop posting.

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