Playgroups of a different kind

Today I went to a learning support playgroup. It is run by a group called Lifestart. It was a very different experience to any other playgroup/ mother's group I have had contact with. The set up was pretty normal... free play activities, morning tea, outdoor activities, structured song, dancing and story time. But it had a very different feel about it.

In some ways it felt surreal. There were about 20 kids, 20 mums/dads, 3 staff and about 3 volunteers. So the environment was very active. Here I was in a room filled with children with one learning disability or another. There were a lot of tears, tantrums, screaming and uncontrolled actions. If I am completely honest, it felt a little strange, awkward and confronting. This is still a whole new world to me. I am not used to seeing such an abundance of children who have struggled in one way or another with childhood development.

And yet, I felt so at home. The place had a warmth about it that I have not encountered before. The staff were incredibly kind, welcoming and wanting to know us as individuals. But it wasn't just the staff. The parents were welcoming. Some of them even introduced themselves!! Now I know this doesn't seem like a big deal, but it is unusual (in my experience) for mum's to introduce themselves - they might smile at you but very few go out of their way to make you feel welcome.

It helped that I connected with another mother who had only come once before to the group and her son (aged 4) has also only recently been diagnosed with ASD. It was nice to share some similar experiences and struggles.

The biggest difference I noted: people's guards were down. There were few or no barriers. There was a softness in the room. Understanding in their eyes. Compassion in their hearts. This is the place where your child can scream, roll around, hit their head on the floor and nobody blinks. Nobody stares and thinks 'what is wrong with you and your child?' No one judges your parenting because everyone has walked in similar shoes. I felt E and I were accepted. Maybe that's one the blessings of walking this road. Maybe as we struggle, cry, weep for our child - we care less about what others think and more about supporting others who share a similar anguish.

As I journey, I am conscious of seeing the blessings. Although, this is not a road I choose to walk I believe God has chosen it for me. There will be flowers along the way, blooms which I would otherwise not behold. I believe this is one of them. These people are real. Vulnerable. Warm. Caring. Maybe it's partly because you don't have to pretend that your life is perfect or near enough to it. Our children don't know how to pretend. They don't put on their best behaviour. So we give up the fight of saying 'the nice things'. Life itself already feels like a fight. It takes energy to put on facade. So when people ask me how I am, I rarely say 'good' anymore. Cause I'm not.

But today, I am thankful that I'm not 'good'. What warmth and beauty God has brought my way.