The hardest part of my homeschool year

I held my breath as I looked at the list. Every single item. It described him to the T. How had I never known? Wordlessly, I slid the laptop over to my husband. His eyes widened as he scrolled down, just as amazed.

You mean, this is a thing? 

There’s a name for this? And it’s legit?

Relief and grief often go hand-in-hand. On the one hand, I was overwhelmed with relief, finally freed from the crippling belief that all my son’s challenges were the result of my own inadequacies. Terrible handwriting? Clearly my fault. Can’t tie shoes? My failure. Strange social behavior? My mess-up.  Lack of eye-contact, emotional maturity, empathy and a dozen other “typical” behavioral benchmarks? All mommy-fails.

But now, here, with one word I was freed from this Mommy-failure prison.

His challenges weren’t my fault. This … was a thing.

Then, of course there was also grief. {Read the rest over at Simple Homeschool as part of the Hardest Part of My Year series. I hope this can encourage you!}