Special Needs Parenting – The Hidden Humor

There are some unique experiences that come with being a special needs mom.

I have the pleasure of knowing lots of parents in the same club- many in person and a lot online. These are some of the toughest human beings on the planet and while many conversations focus on support or troubleshooting a problem, they also often result in laughing at some of the…unusual…situations we find ourselves in.

So maybe you are one of those moms or maybe you just want a glimpse behind the curtain into real life. Regardless, here are a few funny stories Chris and I have collected over the years.

*Disclaimer* Everything in this post is written lightheartedly and intended to be taken humorously. Ok. Carry on! 😉

People might argue with your kids about who is older. Like, adults might argue with them. And then also argue with you, the mom, about it. I assure you, the kids had it right the first time.

I get an extra giggle watching medical professionals stumble aloud about how my two oldest could possibly be 6 weeks apart in age. They sometimes work through a whole story trying to make it make sense scientifically. I like letting them sort it out, especially if they’re on a roll.  One uniquely funny time involved a theory that one kid was born early and I remained pregnant with the other until full-term, but then why do they look so different? They have different skin tones, hair, eyes, everything. So that couldn’t be right. Did they have two fathers? I’m still married to the dad? Yes? Is dad from a different country? Does the just boy child look like him? Did I just have two uteruses? How did they medically keep one twin from being born if they were together? She was visually relieved when I smiled and with a wink said, “One was adopted.”

Around 25% of the time, I get judgmental stares when I get out of the van in a handicap parking spot. Sometimes people glare at me as I walk around the back…until I pick the wheelchair up out of the trunk. It used to bother me, but now, I find it kind of humorous.

A couple years ago, we spent a lot of time researching dog breeds in the hopes of finding an affordable(ish) dog to be trained as a therapy dog for CJ. We were hoping she’d be able to assist him in turning on lights or opening the refrigerator, as well as offer some emotional support. Mila arrived at Christmas, just in time for a surprise worldwide pandemic to obliterate her training window! Ha! So now we have a naturally intelligent and empathetic, but entirely untrained, giant dog who is smart enough to figure out how to stir up big mischief. It’s a good thing she’s super sweet! 😉

We buy weird things here. Like emesis bags in bulk.

There are collections of odd things tucked away in random places around the house and van and purses. Mostly emesis bags.

My eldest daughter says this post can not be complete without mentioning that we have two cabinets PACKED with medicine and bandaging supplies. Sometimes trying to find nausea meds (see above points) looks a lot like that old Tupperware commercial where everything always fell out. I’m kidding. Sort of. The constant organization is a work in progress, okay?

Speaking of bandages, Chris has become the official wound nurse around here. He took over during a crisis once while I was heavily pregnant and could not tolerate the images or smells, and we never looked back. He’s exceptionally good at it! He has done everything from saving a toe needing possible amputation to keeping a roughly 24 inch incision from infection. One tense day in the hospital, a surgeon (who knows us very well) came in the room to fix a wound issue, kicked the nurse off the case, saw me positioning CJ, and pointed at Chris, “Ok dad, you’re first assist! Glove up!” He remains more or less certain (read: adamant) this is equivalent to a surgical residency program.

People approach us in public, always with incredibly sweet intentions, but sometimes in ways that make us scratch our heads. One time, someone walked up to CJ, slipped 5 dollars into the side of his wheelchair and walked away without a word. The girls, who were still quite young, thought he was just passing out money and held out their hands to him for their share.

I often forget how much of our lives has become automatic. I think I must be a funny person to observe on the rare occasion CJ is not with us and I realize I can walk up the front steps into a building. Or responding to a confused restaurant hostess with, “Oh definitely a booth! We can sit in a booth today!”

Conversations about bodily functions and fluids are extremely common around here, as well as detailed descriptions of surgeries and wounds. Sometimes we forget not everyone else is used to that. Medical friends and other special needs parents are nice to have around when these pop up. They are entirely unphased.

Special needs parenting also grows in you a special sense of humor. It’s often dark and quite sarcastic. We do try to keep that at bay for those unaccustomed to it. But developing a sharp sense of humor is definitely a natural coping method- and a funny one at that!


CJ has his own sense of humor. One of his favorite things to do is pop a wheelie in his wheelchair with the distinct intention of giving some poor, unsuspecting passerby a heart attack. He 100% knows it looks like that chair is falling over and some stranger is about to break out into a full sprint to catch him or grasp their heart with chest pains. He will talk about it for hours after you finally collect yourself and walk away.

There is a lot of laundry around here. Like a lot, a lot. A family of six produces a mountain of laundry as it is, but combine that with the above mentioned need for emesis bags and convos about body fluids and I’m sure you catch my drift. I once told a friend how much laundry we average over a week and her shocked, yet impressed, expression made the work worth it…momentarily anyway.

Having a child with physical disabilities provides its own material. CJ has full use of his upper body and is quite creative figuring out mobility for himself when taking a break from his wheelchair. He can scoot himself up the stairs and safely back down, however once I unexpectedly caught him attempting a new method (read: impulsive thought). He straightened out flat and tobogganed down the stairway, much like a penguin on an ice ramp, except on his back. While impressed at the ingenuity and energy saving method, I did have to forbid that from ever happening again. (He was completely unharmed, thankfully.)

And the most common, and most absurd, in my opinion, is this: special needs parents are super saints. (Insert uproarious laughter.) Speaking from personal experience, there is absolutely nothing uniquely special about me. God did not measure out an extra portion of patience or stress-free genetics when He made me. God does not give us only what we can handle. The truth is that special needs parents are just like any other parents. We have our mountaintops and our valleys. We have joy and desperation.

Being a parent to a child with extensive needs and children with more typical needs, does allow me to compare the experiences in some ways. I will say that there is a level of exhaustion that exists in special needs parenting that is unfathomable to “typical” parents. The hypervigilance never lessens, the caregiving may look a lot more like it does for a permanent baby than a maturing child, and sometimes there is no clear idea of what the future will look like, or if there is, it involves a lifetime of intensity and dedication. There is a continuous cycle of grief happening for special needs parents. There are often extra levels of safety necessary and an entire medical world to be understood.

In all of this, God’s grace is fully sufficient in my weakness. I can unashamedly say I am weak because that’s when His power is more evident. (2 Corinthians 12:9). He gives just enough for today and tomorrow the grace will be waiting for me to accomplish whatever is necessary. No special needs parent does it perfectly, just as no “typical” parent does it perfectly.

God knew at the beginning of time what He would ordain for every family. Christians are simply asked to trust and obey what He asks of us, especially when it is impossible in our own power. (Ephesians 2:10)

So, that’s a quick synopsis of special needs parenting combined with moments that spark laughter for us! I hope you read this list and chuckled with me. My family giggled and thought of all sorts of memories as we went through these aloud. Life is full of irony and humorous tales for all families, if you are willing to look for them!


And whether you are a “typical” or special needs parent, I’d love to hear some of your stories too!