Once upon a time, there was a people called the Israelites who lived in slavery in Egypt. They dreamed of a land called Canaan, where the milk flowed like rivers and the honey dripped from the trees.
One day, God sent a prophet named Moses to lead the Israelites out of Egypt and into Canaan. After a long and perilous journey, the Israelites finally reached the Promised Land.
But the Israelites were disappointed to find that Canaan was not the sudden paradise they had imagined. The milk was not flowing like rivers, and the honey was not dripping from the trees.
In fact, the Israelites realized that they would have to work hard to make Canaan their home. They would have to build houses, plant crops, and raise animals.
And they would have to learn how to milk cows and keep bees.
One day, a group of Israelites was walking through a field when they saw one of their cows. They had been with the cows in the desert but never bothered to think of their use besides draught power, and they were amazed at this particular one's size and beauty.
“What a magnificent creature!” one of the Israelites exclaimed. “I wonder what else it can give us.”
"I don't know," another Israelite replied. "But I'm sure it's something delicious."
The Israelites decided to try to milk the cow. But they didn't know how. They pulled on her tail, they yanked on her ears, and they even tried to climb onto her back.
But the cow refused to give up her milk.
"I'm starting to think that the milk isn't in the cow at all," one of the Israelites said. "Maybe it's in the ground."
The Israelites started digging around the cow, but they couldn't find any milk.
"I'm starting to think that the milk is a myth," another Israelite said.
Just then, a wise old man walked by. He saw the Israelites struggling to milk the cow, and he shook his head.
"You're doing it all wrong," he said. "You have to feed the cow first."
The Israelites looked at the old man in surprise. "Feed the cow?" they asked. "Why?"
"Because the cow doesn't give up her milk unless she's well-fed," the old man replied.
The Israelites realized that the old man was right. They gathered some grass and gave it to the cow. The cow ate the grass hungrily, and then she lay down in the shade of a tree.
A few minutes later, the cow stood up and started to milk herself. The Israelites were amazed.
"It worked!" one of them exclaimed. "The milk is flowing like rivers!"
The Israelites filled their buckets with milk and drank it greedily. It was the most delicious milk they had ever tasted.
But then, one of the Israelites noticed something strange. The cow was starting to get angry. She was kicking her legs and stomping her hooves.
"What's wrong with the cow?" the Israelite asked.
"I think she's mad at us," another Israelite replied. "We're taking all of her milk."
The Israelites tried to give the cow some milk back, but she refused it. She just kept kicking and stomping.
"I think we need to get out of here," one of the Israelites said.
The Israelites ran away from the cow, and she chased them all the way back to their village.
The Israelites learned a valuable lesson that day. They learned that the milk is not in the cow unless you feed her first. And they learned that it takes longer to milk a cow than it does to drink the milk.
They also learned that their own children are a bottomless pit that drains all the milk and all the honey and still demand more. And the king insists that the children get the milk and the honey, the parents didn't matter much.
The Israelite immigrants and refugees, like many, leave their homeland of 400 years in search of a better life. The land of Canaan has always been the diaspora of a sort, the promise of a new beginning. But they all soon realize that the diaspora, just like Egypt, first must flow with sweat before the milk flows. Just that there's no Pharaoh, and there's no xenophobic Egyptians.
There's work to be done. Before the grass greens up. Before the chickens come home. Actually, the green they saw afar off, was watered by others, they must water it too.
The Israelites have to learn how to milk the cow and keep the bees. They have to learn how to navigate a new culture and society. And they have to learn how to cope with the challenges of living in a foreign land.
The honey is with the bee, it stings. The milk is in the cow, it must eat, it must be milked. For more milk you may need more cows. But more cows will tax you more. Imagine, the milk drinks faster than it is milked.
It is not always easy to milk the cow, and the cow can be angry at times. But the Israelites eventually learn to milk the cow, and they are rewarded with delicious milk.
Picture this: a sleep-deprived parent on a daring mission through airport customs, with a perfectly healthy but snoozing special needs son comfortably nestled in a wheelchair. This epic tale of parental ingenuity begins on a long-haul flight from New York to London, where our hero, armed with sleepless eyes and a sleepier son, embarks on a journey like no other.
As the flight landed and the customs line stretched out like a dragon guarding its treasure, our valiant parent faced a crucial decision. To wake the slumbering cherub and carry him through the maze, risking the wrath of a drowsy little monster, or to seize the opportunity presented by an abandoned wheelchair nearby? It's the stuff parenting legends are made of!
With nerves of steel and the spirit of a ninja, our weary protagonist expertly transferred the sleeping prodigy into the wheelchair. "Not all heroes wear capes," they whispered to themselves, beaming with pride at their clever idea.
Approaching the customs officer, they tried to channel their inner secret agent but probably looked more like a sleep-deprived wizard. The customs officer's puzzled expression said it all - it was a moment of truth and potential hilarity.
After a moment that felt like an eternity, the customs officer seemed to appreciate the ingenious ploy. With a knowing smile, they waved our duo through, the wheelchair acting as their magic passport to a customs-free kingdom.
Rolling away from the checkpoint, our hero couldn't contain their laughter. There they were, a parent masterfully wheeling their slumbering child through customs like a seasoned pro. James Bond would be impressed!
And thus, the legend of the sleepy soaring journey continued. Our duo made it to their connecting flight, and the snoozing special needs son remained none the wiser, dreaming of heroic adventures while being smoothly wheeled from gate to gate.
But wait, the adventure didn't end there! As if the wheelchair escapade wasn't enough, our intrepid parent had an entire assortment of boxes and bags filled with undeclared medical equipment and other supplies. They might as well have been carrying a portable hospital! If looks could speak, those customs officials' eyes would've been popping out like those of a cartoon character!
Among the heap of mysterious packages, there was one particularly ominous carry-on bag. It emitted a smell so potent it could rival the famous Roquefort cheese. Oh yes, this bag was filled with inflight-soiled clothes and used diapers, enough to turn even the bravest of souls into a weeping willow. And to think, our hero had to walk past those inquisitive officials with a nonchalant grin, praying no one would mistake them for a rogue skunk that snuck onboard.
The anxiety level was higher than a high-wire act in a circus. The fear of a banshee-like tantrum from their slumbering son kept them on their toes. One wrong move, and the whole airport might have been treated to a performance worthy of an opera house, complete with wailing, stomping, and maybe even a little breakdancing.
As they rolled on, the customs, drug, and security officials seemed to have gathered for an impromptu meeting just to witness this unforgettable scene. It was like they all had front-row seats to the craziest show in town - "The Sleepy Soaring Spectacle"!
Our fearless parent tried to maintain their cool composure, but it felt more like they were performing a circus act on a tightrope. Each step was a daring gamble, hoping their secret medical stash wouldn't raise any eyebrows and that their smelly bag of shame wouldn't catch any unwanted attention from curious sniffer dogs.
It was a comedy of errors, a symphony of silliness, and a dance of desperation, all rolled into one uproarious airport adventure. But hey, laughter is the best medicine, right? So, why not add a dose of hilarity to an otherwise nerve-wracking journey?
In the end, they made it through customs, triumphant and relieved, with their slumbering child still blissfully unaware of the mayhem that had unfolded. As they boarded their connecting flight, they couldn't help but reflect on the rollercoaster of emotions they had experienced.
And so, dear travelers, remember that life's most memorable moments often arise from the most unexpected and ludicrous situations. As you navigate the twists and turns of parenthood and travel, may you find humor in the chaos and laughter in the lunacy. After all, isn't that what makes life one wild and hilarious ride? Bon voyage and may your future adventures be filled with smiles, giggles, and maybe a few more wheelchairs for good measure!
A tale that reminds us of all of the extraordinary lengths parents go to for their little ones. Sometimes, a wheelchair becomes a magic chariot, and an airport becomes a whimsical playground. Parenting isn't just about diapers and discipline; it's about creativity, resourcefulness, and embracing the hilarious madness that comes with the territory.
Here’s to all the parents out there, crafting their own adventure tales one sleepless night at a time. May your spirits stay high, your coffee stay strong, and your wheelchairs roll like chariots of dreams, carrying you and your little ones through whatever challenges life may throw your way. After all, in the great storybook of life, the best chapters are often the most amusingly unconventional ones. Keep on wheeling, brave parents, keep on wheeling!
The Dyslexic’s Ode to Reading is a poem for when you think you’re stuck with a dyslexic child. Maybe you’re ready to pull your hair out. Maybe you think they’re just too lazy that’s why they can’t learn to read. If that's what you really think, then this child is the one stuck with you.
Chill out, let’s read this awesome Dyslexic’s Ode to Reading together. I wrote this poem for you, for them. After reading, laminate it for the reader-in-waiting. Let them know it and love it and read it. And you, lighten up buddy.
This short and cool poem shows the grit and spunk of this one person with dyslexia as they deal with the hassles of reading. Just look at how they keep on trying and use their tricks and gadgets to beat the odds. The poem also points out that dyslexia doesn’t mean you’re dumb or dull or stupid and all the other silly words people use.
It also shows that with some sweat, and different approached, dyslexic folks can reach their dreams. A message of cheer and high-five for all dyslexics, telling them that they have buddies in their ride and that they can rock it.
The Dyslexic’s Ode to Reading
The letters do a disco, They boogie and they groove, They make no sense to me, I wish they’d find their groove.
But I’m not throwing in the towel, I’ll keep on rocking hard, I know that I can read, I just need to play my card.
I’ll use my hacks and gadgets, I’ll chop the words in bits, I’ll glue them back together, And make them fit like mitts.
I’m not a silly kid, I’m just wired a little funky, That doesn’t mean I can’t read, It just means I must be a little spunky.
But I’m up for the adventure, I know I can ace this, I’m going to read the world, And I’m going to do it with a grin.
Here’s to all the dyslexics out there, keep on reading, keep on rocking, you’re not alone, and you can nail this! But ke wena kleva watching us from the window and, over the fence, and thinking we're wasting our time, change your attitude. Angithi?
Bananas are quirky little creatures, and if you pay close attention, you might find they have a thing or two to teach us.
Have you ever stopped to really look at a banana? I mean really look at it. At first glance it seems straightforward - yellow, curved, comes in a convenient carrying case. But beneath that unassuming peel lurks fruit with some surprises up its sleeve.
Every superhero is different, so try not to compare your Superman with Blackpanther and Superbanana.
Look again and you will see the banana and special needs parenting have more in common than you might expect.
Are special needs parents not yellow and sunny? Are they not bananas some of the time yet sweet inside? As the parent of a child with special needs myself, I’ve learned a few tricks of the trade from observing these potassiumed marvels. Both require thick skins, the ability to adapt to changes in circumstances, and an understanding that no two are exactly alike.
So, next time you’re in the fruit and veg aisle, take a second look at those bananas. Actually, put a bunch in your trolley and look at them again at home. You might find they offer some insights you never expected. And the next time you’re struggling with a parenting challenge, try thinking like a banana. You’ll never look at either in quite the same way again.
Do you see that the banana is curvy?
Just like this banana, some children have a natural curve to their learning or development. They may require extra support or accommodations, but their unique perspective and creativity can bring a delightful twist to any situation. Embracing their curvy path can lead to unexpected and exciting outcomes!
Did you pick a spotty banana perhaps?
Spots on a banana can represent the different challenges a child may face. Just like these spots, each challenge adds character and strength to their journey. These children may require additional resources or therapies, but their resilience and determination shine through, making them truly special.
I know you may have deliberately avoided the mini banana.
Mini bananas are small but known to be the tastiest! Similarly, some children may be physically smaller or have a petite stature, but their hearts and spirits are full of boundless energy and enthusiasm. They may surprise you with their incredible strength and ability to make a big impact in their own unique way.
That extra sweet banana!
Some bananas are exceptionally sweet, just like some of these differently gifted children, they have this incredible inbuilt ability to spread joy and kindness wherever they go. Their genuine and loving nature can brighten up any room and remind us of the sweetness in life.
With time, patience, and the right support, they will blossom into their full potential.
Going Green
Green bananas are not fully ripe yet, just like some children who are still developing their skills and abilities. With time, patience, and the right support, they will blossom into their full potential. Just like a green banana turns into a delicious yellow one, these children have endless possibilities ahead of them.
Remember, every child, just like every banana, is unique and special in their own way. Embracing their differences and celebrating their strengths is what makes our world a more vibrant and beautiful place!
So, Let’s All Go Bananas: Finding the Funny in Special Needs Parenting
The hardest part about parenting a child with special needs is often just getting through each day. Some days, it feels like everything is a battle and you just want to throw in the towel. On these tough days, remember:
Take things hour by hour if needed.
Focus on the little victories and find moments of joy where you can.
Connect with other special needs parents can make the hard days easier to bear. No one understands like those in the same boat. Find your tribe and band together.
Every child is different, so try not to compare your child's progress to others. Kids develop at their own pace, so follow their lead.
Look for small improvements over time instead of big milestones.
Celebrate the wins, no matter how small they seem.
While the day to day can be challenging, don't lose your sense of humour.
Learn to laugh at the little things and you'll maintain your sanity so much better.
Learn to laugh at the little things and you'll maintain your sanity so much better. Find amusement in the moments that would otherwise frustrate you. Make silly inside jokes and nicknames. Special needs parenting is a wild ride, so you might as well enjoy it!
The Peel is the Hardest Part: Getting Through the Tough Days
On the days when you want to throw in the towel, just get through the next hour. Take a walk, do some deep breathing, call a friend. Remember your child is more than their diagnosis or difficulties. Look for moments of joy and connection. Celebrate small wins. You've got this, you mighty parent you! Focus on progress over time, not milestones. Compare your child to themselves, not others.
Don't Split! Banding Together with Other Special Needs Parents
No one understands like those walking the same road. Find your people - other special needs parents who get it. Connect on social media or in person. Swap stories, share resources, vent, and laugh together. Having a strong support system makes the hard days, procedures, and specialist appointments so much easier to get through. You are not alone!
Ripen at Your Own Pace: Every Child Progresses Differently
Kids develop on their own timeline, so try not to compare. Look for small signs of progress and growth over time instead of big milestones. Follow your child's lead. Celebrate the wins, no matter how small. What seems like baby steps to some, are huge leaps for our kids! Focus on their abilities, not limitations. Our kids will get there, in their own time and in their own way.
I hope I didn’t say eating a banana is eating your child.
Start by adjusting your mindset. Focus on what your child can do rather than what they can’t. Look for the positives in every situation. Educate yourself on your child’s condition and how best to support them. Find other “banana” parents for advice and solidarity. Make sure to also care for yourself so you have the energy and strength to care for your child.
So, there you have it. Bananas and parenting—who knew they had so much in common? A few simple tips from an unlikely source to help you stay sane and keep a sense of humour. At the end of the day, all you can do is your best.
Add lots of bananas to your diet.
Happy are the yellow among us.
One serving, or one medium ripe banana, provides about 110 calories, 0 gram fat, 1 gram protein, 28 grams carbohydrate, 15 grams sugar (naturally occurring), 3 grams fibre, and 450 mg potassium. Yes you heard well, Special Children are naturally occurring sugar.
FAQ: All About Banana Parenting and Special Needs
So, you’ve decided to embrace the banana parenting lifestyle for your special needs child. Excellent choice! Banana parenting isn’t for the faint of heart, but with the right mindset it can be extremely rewarding. Here are some of the most frequently asked questions about this unique approach:
What exactly is “banana parenting”?
Banana parenting means accepting your child for who they are, special needs and all, rather than trying to force them into a societal mold that doesn’t fit. Just like a banana, your child may be a little different, but still wonderfully sweet. The key is focusing on their abilities, not their disabilities.
How is banana parenting different from typical parenting styles?
With banana parenting, you throw out the rule book. There are no expectations for your child to reach arbitrary milestones by a certain age or conform to standards that don’t make sense for them. You embrace their unique qualities and learn to look at the world through their eyes.
What are the benefits of the banana approach?
For your child, the benefits are huge. They get to grow up in an environment where they feel unconditionally loved and accepted. For you as a parent, it helps reduce stress and leads to greater patience, empathy, and insight into your child’s needs. Overall, it creates a healthier, happier dynamic between parents, kids, and community.
Accept that there will be bumps, bruises, and meltdowns along the way, but focus on the sweet moments in between. Like bananas, kids grow up fast, so appreciate each stage for what it is. And when times get tough, and you're told, "this too shall pass", just say, "it’s a banana, it doesn't pass, you should probably just eat it."
The Rollercoaster Ride of Lwanele's PSARP: The Mother's Hope Tale
Hello, dear friends! Today, I'm going to share an experience that's a bit different from our usual light-hearted fare. It's a tale of anxiety, fear, and ultimately, relief and joy. It's the story of Lwanele's mom, and her rollercoaster ride of emotions as her 6-month-old baby underwent a posterior sagittal anorectoplasty (PSARP). Read about a mother's hope amongst fear and uncertainty.
Yes, Lwanele has a mom, you guys want to he told everything.
Now, if you're like me and medical jargon makes your head spin, let me simplify it for us. PSARP stands for posterior sagittal anorectoplasty, a surgical technique used to treat a condition called anorectal malformation in some children. Anorectal malformation means the anus and rectum did not form properly during development before birth.
In this procedure, surgeons create an artificial opening for stool to pass through within the child's sphincter muscle, which is the muscle that normally controls bowel movements. This surgically constructed anus allows the child to have normal bowel movements and urinate normally.
The procedure aims to give the child an anus in a position and with muscle function as close to normal as possible. If I make it simpler doctors will stop doing it. Still sounds scary, right? Well, imagine being the mom of that infant.
That's where our Mother's Hope story begins.
Mommy watched as her little bundle of joy was prepared for surgery. The anaesthetic was administered, and the battle began. Lwanele, being the little warrior that he is, fought the anaesthetic with all his might. But eventually, he succumbed, his tiny body going limp in a violent loss of consciousness.
For her, it was like watching her baby take his last breath. The room spun, her heart pounded, and her mind was filled with a million questions. Will he wake up? Will he be, okay?
A Mother's Hope Amongst Fear and Uncertainty
The Mother’s Tale
Enter Charles Dickens
In the realm of a mother's heart, where emotions intertwine like delicate tendrils, watching her child go under anaesthesia and undergo surgery is an intricate dance of hope and despair. It is a symphony of emotions that traverses the darkest corners of her fears and reaches for the brightest stars of her hopes. In the canvas of her mind, a tapestry of vivid hues unfolds, depicting the profound journey she embarks upon.
As her child is gently cradled in the arms of anaesthesia, a whirlwind of emotions sweeps over her. Fear, like a tempestuous tempest, rages within her soul, threatening to consume her. The very thought of her precious one surrendering to the depths of unconsciousness sends shivers of anguish through her being. It is as if she is teetering on the precipice of her worst nightmares, grappling with the profound fragility of life itself.
Yet, amidst the churning sea of apprehension, a flicker of faith emerges. It is a beacon of light, softening the edges of her fears and whispering soothing melodies of hope into her heart. With every ounce of her being, she clings to the belief that the skilled hands of the surgeon will guide her child through the stormy waters of the operating theater, navigating the treacherous currents towards a safe haven of healing. After all, the surgeon is very experienced and top of the brass, the "top dog in Africa" as he called himself, a professor in his trade with globally acclaimed surgeries under his nifty fingers.
In the waiting room, a makeshift space really, between elevators along the hospital's corridors, her heart flutters like a fragile butterfly seeking solace in the blooming gardens of compassion. Time stretches its tendrils, elongating each minute, as she yearns for updates on her little one's progress. But still, in her ears rings the multitude of prayers rising to heaven on behalf of her boy. Prayers from family, friends, and an entire church ring palpitations in her heart and tighten her faith like a shoelace to a shoe.
Every ding of the elevators, every footstep, every opening of the sliding doors echoes with anticipation, and dread, as if the universe itself holds its breath, waiting for news that will assuage her worries and dispel the shadows of doubt. Amidst the cacophony of her restless thoughts, her mind weaves intricate patterns of affection and love. She recalls the gentle touch of her child's tiny fingers, the soft warmth of their embrace, and the melodious laughter that filled their days. These memories, like a celestial lullaby, cradle her spirit and offer respite from the relentless tide of anxiety.
A Mother's Hope Fulfilled
And then, as if orchestrated by fate, comes the long-awaited news. Her child's surgery was a success. A symphony of relief and gratitude cascades through her soul, bathing her in a euphoria akin to celestial rays breaking through storm clouds. Tears of joy mingle with tears of exhaustion, as she surrenders to the immense wave of emotions crashing upon the shores of her heart.
Her child's surgery was a success. A mother's hope fulfilled.
I was there in that heavy waiting room. As I retell her sitted journey, I remember the compassion that embraced every facet of her experience that day. The full spectrum of her emotions—the fear mingled with faith; the anguish softened by affection. It is a tale that resonates with empathy, uplifts a weary souls, and invites you to embrace, not only the thin line between life and death, but also, the fragility and strength that coexist within the human spirit.
As we reflect upon this tale, let us weave a tapestry of empathy, uplift, and peace. Let us honour the struggles and triumphs of parents who navigate the turbulent waters of their children's surgeries, including bro Felix who shared his own experience and inspired this piece. And above all, let us celebrate the joy that radiates from the recovery of a cherished little one, for it is a reminder that love, and hope can transcend even the darkest of storms.
Exeunt Charles Dickens
The surgery was over. Lwanele was okay. The relief that washed over his mom was indescribable.
Even greater than the shock when she found out some months later that other children had allegedly died under the care of the same mighty doctor in similar surgeries around the same time as Lwanele's. The news hit her like a punch in the gut. Imagine a wave of sadness for those families, but also a renewed sense of gratitude that Lwanele's surgery had gone well.
So, there you have it, folks. A tale of fear, anxiety, and ultimately, relief and joy. It's a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there's always a glimmer of hope. And for Lwanele's mom, that hope was her little warrior, who fought bravely and came out victorious. The hope rode on a God who never disappoints but appoints favour in His appointed time. A support circle of loved and loving ones who stood by her through and through and carried a similar hope, faith, fear, anxiety, relieve, and praise.
And remember, as you give hope, have some kept for yourself.
