I understand that you tried to do a good thing. I understand that you earn a living based upon the pleasant dining experiences of your patrons. I understand that a 'badly behaved' child makes your staff's jobs that little bit harder. 

When you gave the family a $5 discount for dining with their 'well behaved child', you made their day, but you made my life that little bit harder, and heres how:

On a daily basis, I campaign and advocate understanding of the public for children with special needs. I challenge attitudes to children that are 'different', and whos behaviour might not fall into the range deemed 'good'. I try to make people understand that my child's behaviour might disturb them at times, I try to make them understand that my child cannot always control his behaviour, and I try to make them accepting of the differences that there are between children. I insist that my child, with his behaviours and quirks has just as much right to occupy the world as everyone else. 

Your well intended gesture tells the world that everything I live for is wrong. It tells the world that 'normal' is good and therefore rewarded, and so my son, who is perfect in my eyes, is 'bad'. 

You see, my son might have crawled under his chair if he heard a loud noise, he might have flapped his hands when he got tired of waiting for his meal. If your chef accidentally put the wrong food colour on his plate, he might have made some noise. Would we have gotten the $5 discount?

You could have entitled the discount 'Mothers day gift'; You could keep the $5 and provide crayons and colouring sheets for children to distract them from the wait for their meals you could have used it to provide a free dessert for children, that way they might have an incentive to try and get through their meals as quickly and quietly as possible....

What you did, defines 'good behaviour' as a target that it is impossible for certain children to reach. It rewarded parents, which means it blames other parents. It excludes millions of children all over the world and deters parents of children with unseen special needs from dining at your restuarant. 

Mr Restuaranteur, my child has Autism, ADHD and ODD. My child diabilitites are unseen. Sometimes he cant control his behaviour. Are we welcome at your restaurant?

Happy Mother's Day to the Mother who may never have heard her child say "I love you". Happy Mother's Day for the mother who's child is physically incapable of buying a card, or who doesn't have the mental capacity to understand what today is about. Happy Mother's Day to the Mothers who won't get to relax and rest today, because they don't get to relax and rest ever. 

One of the hardest thing about raising a child with special needs is the isolation it causes even when I am in the midst of friends of family. You see, nobody around me understands what being a Mother is like FOR ME. I hear you complain about the amount of birthday parties you have to bring your child to this weekend, and I hear you boast about how well your child is doing at school, and I am happy for you, I really am. But can you share my frustration when I have had to bring my child to what feels like a million therapy appointments for the week? Can you be happy with me when I am happy that my seven year old didn't eat his clothes today? Or that he go into a full blown meltdown when he heard an ambulance siren, or that he ate food that wasn't brown?

Its obvious that being the Mother of a child with Special Needs is a totally different journey, and for that reason, today is a completely different celebration for us too. Today, you might not get any respite from your role, and so its important that you take a moment to reflect on the amazing job that you do. I see you. I see you and I celebrate you. I admire your hard work, your selflessness and your tenacity. 

To the Mother's of children with Special Needs, I wish you a very happy Mothers Day. 

I am a special needs mother. My child has disabilities that can't be seen. In an ideal world my child would have no more difficulties than a 'normal' child, but there are times that I wish that Zidanes difficulties were clear for everyone to see. You see, if you don't know me, you may see a terrible mother with a child she often can't manage. You nudge your friend in the supermarket and wonder why she wont take her screaming child off the floor, you roll your eyes when you hear his non-stop babble on public transport and ask why I don't shut him up. You don't understand that touching Zidane during a meltdown (caused by over stimulation) only makes him worse, and you don't see when Zidane hits himself saying "Im stupid - why cant I just shut up?". Even as you might chuckle as you read my update of what Zidane said on any given day, you don't see the little boy that has never been invited to a birthday party, that struggles to understand what his peers comprehend with ease or that is so confused by the world around him that he flits from uncontrollable anger to crying himself to sleep. Even trained professionals don't see the immense burden that we as a family go through living with a child with the difficulties Zidane faces. You didn't see the fight we had to go through to be acknowledged, you don't see the fight we continue to get help from medical professionals and the education system. You insist that my child needs a slap and that it is ME that is the problem. I don't want your sympathy, this is our journey, and in raising my ever so special boy my other children and I have learnt so much about ourselves and the world around us - we are different people - a better family, and at any rate I can give as good as I get, I pity the fool that rolls their eyes during one of Zidanes meltdowns, lol. Now, there ARE children that are spoilt and naughty, and that might have thrown themselves onto the floor in the supermarket because they weren't allowed to have a chocolate bar, im not asking you to become an expert in ADHD, ASD, ODD, GDD or anything else Zidane has to be able to diagnose and differentiate between them, I'm asking for a little tolerance - maybe you can not roll your eyes, or talk loudly about what you would do if it was your child, you only have to endure it for a really short amount of time - spare a thought for the mother and family for whom that is life.

I have a child with autism. 

On April 2nd, my Facebook newsfeed was flooded with Autism Awareness posts - and at first, it warmed my heart. Deep down, I love the concept of autism awareness month, and every other awareness month or day for highlighting special needs to the public at large. I loved scrolling through my newsfeed and seeing 'friends' sharing pictures that they probably wouldn't have usually shared. I loved the fact that 'autism' didn't feel like a dirty word, and I didn't feel as though I was alone in talking about the condition that my son and my family live with daily. 

But in reality, I hate it. I hate that people believe that clicking 'share' on a photo makes a difference, without them making an effort to educate themselves on what autism is, how it affects people and what they can do to help.

I hate the fact that amongst the 'share this to raise awareness' posts, there is no definite initiative to raise funds to support vulnerable people who desperately need help. 

I hate the fact that monumental buildings were 'lit blue' to show support for autism awareness, but inside those buildings, none of the companies showed us an employee with autism, when it is proven that individuals with autism have an abundance of skills, traits and qualifications that are proven to be invaluable to work forces. 

I hate the fact that parents and carers walk out of blue lit buildings, still fighting for flexible working hours, in order to earn a viable wage yet still care for their children. 

I hate the fact that some of the same people that shared the posts and patted themselves on the backs for doing their part will still look down on the mother in the supermarket that cant control her child, not realising that that child might be having a meltdown. 

I hate the talk of tolerance. I tolerate bad smells. My son isn't a bad smell to be covered up. My son won't go away. 

Most of all, I hate the fact that autism awareness is not autism acceptance. Being aware that autism exists is not true acceptance of the differences that exist between neuro-typical individuals and those on the autism spectrum and accommodating those differences with respect.

I understand though, that change has to begin somewhere and hope that with each awareness day of each difference that we possess, we come closer to a genuine appreciation of the contributions that we all make towards to the human race. 

Happy Autism appreciation month.