Dear Parents of “Typical” Kids,

home insemination Kit

I could have easily been seen as a helicopter parent when it came to my oldest son, who received an Asperger’s diagnosis at just three years old. Back when he started middle school eight years ago, I was on a mission to organize neighborhood kids to walk or bike to school together. I quickly realized that other parents weren’t putting in the same effort. My son, unfortunately, was oblivious to everyone else’s plans, and since he struggled to reach out, he wanted to be included but didn’t know how to ask.

“Could the boys ride to school together?” I suggested to a friend.

“I’m not sure what they’ve decided,” she replied.

“Maybe we could just try it for a few days?” I proposed.

“I’ll ask,” she said.

After three days of attempts, my son ended up going solo. He simply couldn’t keep up, and the others weren’t about to slow down for him.

I totally understand now that my youngest son is starting middle school and is perfectly capable of making his own plans. I’m not worrying about which of his friends might need a bit more assistance adjusting. I don’t think the parents back then were unkind for not including my son when they sped off to school. But it would have filled my heart with joy if they had thought of ways to make it work for everyone.

Having different needs than most of your peers can feel isolating. I had to be more involved than other moms to ensure my son felt included. I was the one reaching out weeks before school started to find out other kids’ after-school plans. I hosted gatherings and provided fun activities (and lots of ice cream!) to create a welcoming space for friendships. I was in the social planning game longer than others, which can be a bit overwhelming for parents who don’t have a child needing extra help.

Just a reminder: I’m not trying to micromanage my child’s social life. Eight years ago, I was simply teaching my son how to connect with friends since he wasn’t equipped to do so yet. While other kids were out exploring the world with less parental guidance, mine still needed that extra support to navigate the complex social landscape of middle school.

I understand it’s not your responsibility to look out for my kid, but imagine how it would feel if your child was the one facing social challenges. Picture another parent or child reaching out—it could be the difference between feeling included and being overlooked. Here are a few ways you can help:

1. Ask what they need. When my oldest was in middle school, another family invited him to a birthday party at a noisy venue. They kindly asked how to make it comfortable for him. Their thoughtfulness made us feel included.
2. Suggest trying it out. Sometimes parents worry about committing to long-term plans. How about trying something out for a week and seeing how it goes for everyone?
3. Give kids options for community-building. Let the kids decide how they want to include everyone. While building an inclusive community isn’t optional, they can choose how to engage in the process.
4. Assume good intentions. If I seem anxious or confused, please know it’s likely for a valid reason. Kids on the autism spectrum often struggle with transitions. Before any big change, I prepared my son in various ways—touring new spaces, meeting teachers, and creating backup plans. It might seem excessive, but it was what my child needed to thrive in a typical school environment.

For more insights on navigating parenthood, check out this excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination. It’s always great to have more information at your fingertips! If you’re interested in at-home options, this guide is a fantastic authority on the topic.

In summary, being aware and proactive can make a huge difference for kids who need a little extra help. Just a little thoughtfulness can go a long way in fostering inclusivity and understanding.