Exceptional Babysitters Find a Gem for Your Special Needs Child By Lynne Adams
I
used to say that only a Ph.D.-level child psychologist could babysit my infant son. It wasn’t really a joke because that’s what I was at the time. And his other babysitters were my two close friends and colleagues—and my mom.
James was an extremely fussy, unpredictable, hard-to-read baby. Later, he was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder. My main worry was that a babysitter wouldn’t be able to withstand James’s crying, which was long and loud. I was afraid my son was vulnerable to abuse. Only someone who loved him or me could do the job. Thankfully, with a little time, James became less fussy and much more fun to be around. But I remained wary of sitters. With James, the stakes were higher. What was I supposed to do? Hire a “special needs babysitter,” if such a person existed? And how much would that cost? I wasn’t going to call up the teenager down the street, but I thought I could make do with someone experienced, someone older. 14 SonomaFamilyLife
Also, was a diagnostic label, to which I was still adjusting, really necessary in order for the 75-year-old lady across the street to
I troll for sitters at James’s school, looking for people who he already knows and feels comfortable with. put James to bed while my husband and I went out to dinner? Autism Spectrum Disorder can be a hidden disability. It’s not always apparent at first meeting, so a parent has a choice about whether or not to identify his or her child. How would you like your worst qualities highlighted when you are being introduced to new people? “This is Lynn. She’s extremely
nearsighted and more anxious than most people. She’s okay at throwing, but she can’t catch. Oh, and she gets really cranky when she’s tired or hungry.” Turns out I probably should have said something. When we got home at 10:30 p.m., Ms. Veronica was sitting beside James’s crib, overhead light on, singing “Polly Wolly Doodle.” “Does this baby ever sleep?” she asked. “He won’t close his eyes!” James gave me a desperate look, as if to say, “Doesn’t this lady know how to turn out the light and leave the room?” He was tired of entertaining her. As he grew, James was less funny but still had trouble reading people and being read. Because of his autism, he didn’t communicate typically about really important household topics: sleepiness, hunger, thirst, discomfort, anxiety, illness, and basic requests. So this became my tactic. Instead of using the A-word, I’d deliver a clear,
September 2017 www.sonomafamilylife.com