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Featured Contributor Kimberly Jensen
WITHIN AN ARM'S REACH
by Kimberly Jensen
"Go away, stop following me," Bennett said as he pulled himself out of the swimming pool and marched over to the line of children standing behind the diving board. He wiped the water from his face and stood in line, looking straight ahead, ignoring the children around him as they giggled and chatted about the next "big dive" they were going to perform.
"I can't stop following you. I have to keep you safe," I whispered to myself as I watched my 9-year-old attempt to be independent of me, his mom, who was always just two steps behind and an arm's reach away.
I tried to stay far enough behind him so he wouldn't stand out in a crowd of children whose mothers were nowhere to be seen. They didn't need the constant mother shadow, like Bennett did. But as mothers of autistic children know, their kids stand out anyway. Bennett brought stares and smiles as he mimicked his favorite cartoon episode, complete with sound and action.
As we ventured through the water park that day, I noticed other special needs children splashing in the surf and playing in the sun. I scanned the area around them and within an arm’s reach, was of course their mother, carefully watching, admiring and smiling at her child who was playing alone in the water, oblivious to his mother's constant guard.
Like all mothers, we go through the natural tug of war between mother and child. As our children grow up, they want to pull away, we want to pull them closer. As mothers of special needs children we know we are more than just mothers, we are their protectors, their teachers and their friend, sometimes their only friend.
So while other children lose their shadow mothers early, we mothers of special needs children are called to stay within arm's reach for many more years, sometimes forever.
by Kimberly Jensen
"Go away, stop following me," Bennett said as he pulled himself out of the swimming pool and marched over to the line of children standing behind the diving board. He wiped the water from his face and stood in line, looking straight ahead, ignoring the children around him as they giggled and chatted about the next "big dive" they were going to perform.
"I can't stop following you. I have to keep you safe," I whispered to myself as I watched my 9-year-old attempt to be independent of me, his mom, who was always just two steps behind and an arm's reach away.
I tried to stay far enough behind him so he wouldn't stand out in a crowd of children whose mothers were nowhere to be seen. They didn't need the constant mother shadow, like Bennett did. But as mothers of autistic children know, their kids stand out anyway. Bennett brought stares and smiles as he mimicked his favorite cartoon episode, complete with sound and action.
As we ventured through the water park that day, I noticed other special needs children splashing in the surf and playing in the sun. I scanned the area around them and within an arm’s reach, was of course their mother, carefully watching, admiring and smiling at her child who was playing alone in the water, oblivious to his mother's constant guard.
Like all mothers, we go through the natural tug of war between mother and child. As our children grow up, they want to pull away, we want to pull them closer. As mothers of special needs children we know we are more than just mothers, we are their protectors, their teachers and their friend, sometimes their only friend.
So while other children lose their shadow mothers early, we mothers of special needs children are called to stay within arm's reach for many more years, sometimes forever.
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Kimberly Jensen was born and raised in Sandy, Utah and graduated from the University of Utah in 1991 with a B.S. in Communication. She worked as a radio news anchor for KBOI/KQFC and as a public relations specialist for the Idaho Transportation Department in Boise, Idaho. Kimberly and her family moved to Battle Ground, Washington in 2001 where she became a full time mom and writer.
Her first children’s book, Always the Elf by Cedar Fort Publishing comes out in Fall 2007. Two of her stories have been published in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Children With Special Needs. She is an avid cyclist and loves spending time with her family and taking them on outdoor adventures. She now lives in Utah with her husband Mark, her three children; Tasia, Clayton and Bennett and her two dogs Simba and Ruby. |
