Special Needs and a Special House

A Messy House

When you step into my house, you’ll notice a lot of unusual things. Exercise equipment is scattered all over the floor, the dining room table is piled high with unopened mail, there’s a stack of boxes by the door, and grocery bags are left unpacked in the kitchen. The living room is filled with baby toys, blankets, and oxygen tubing strewn around. You’ll also see three large, strange-looking devices, which are actually medical equipment to help Paige sit or stand.

The kitchen is a world of its own. There are 5-6 empty K-cups on the counter, and the creamer is left beside the fridge. One sink is full of syringes, while the other has a mountain of dishes. The dishwasher is probably full, and the stove still has remnants of last night’s dinner. The couch is covered with two loads of laundry — one for us and one for Paige. My books are scattered everywhere, and my coffee mug from this morning sits next to my Bible. Paige’s highchair has syringes next to it, and her extension tube is trailing behind.

A Special Needs House

When you walk into my home, it might look like a typical mom’s house — just with a few extra details. A house where you can read between the lines — timers going off, mama rushing around, a baby being fed by a tube. You may notice the small signs of help: a hamper full of folded laundry, and Paige’s pink cart neatly filled. You’ll see the big afghan John and I snuggle under, along with a few candy wrappers scattered here and there.

It’s a special house. There’s no other way to describe it. Every home has a story, and ours has its own unique one. A house full of sacrifice, but also full of forgetfulness. I forget to put the creamer back in the fridge because I was too busy feeding Paige with a syringe. I washed my laundry — and sometimes, just that simple task feels like a huge victory.

A Special House

The K-cups on the counter? Those are my husband’s. He stays up later taking care of Paige, and the least I can do is throw them away for him. The exercise equipment? It’s our way of coping. We each do our thing, taking care of our bodies so we can better care for Paige. The sink gets dirtier the more we try to eat healthy, and the cycle never stops.

Sometimes, I walk into my house and feel a little worried. I wonder what others might think. Will they think I’m a slob? Will they assume I procrastinate? Do they know how much we love each other? Do they understand how much we care?

This may look like your house. I’m so glad I’m not alone. Save the clothes for later, and spend time playing with your child on the couch. Put off the dishes for a while, and snuggle with your spouse. Don’t stress over the equipment — there are far more important things in life.
I wouldn’t trade this life for “normal,” I wouldn’t trade it for the cleanliest house in the community, and I hope I never again worry about what others think.