My children have their birthdays two weeks apart and this year we are doing a joint party in the middle of them, so yeah, my October posts may touch on this theme occasionally (ahem).
In the midst of my slightly angsty reflections on Ted’s birth, I realised mere hours before his special day that I hadn’t bought him a single present. Nor did I have a clue what to get him. After mulling it over, I decided I wouldn’t bother.
That sounds shocking, doesn’t it?
The truth is, I wouldn’t be buying for him. I would be buying for me. It’s a convention. A societal norm. We like to feel special and be treated on our birthdays – but as I can’t even be sure Ted has a concept of birthdays, do the normal rules apply?
Inspired by this recent post by the brilliant Penny Wincer and this old one from the equally marvellous Jess (whose Stories With Sam posts are always a considered, informative, honest look at parenthood and disability), I wanted to chime in with some more thoughts on this subject.
I haven’t worked since May 2014. In giving up my job, I am one the 84% – the staggeringly high proportion of mothers of disabled children who do not work, according to The Papworth Trust. And yet, bringing up a disabled child costs an average of three times more than raising a typical child. Coming at this from the inside, these figures stagger but don’t surprise me.
Reading the Trusts’ facts and figures sheet was pretty depressing. Disability within a household brings extra costs, yet is often a factor in lower incomes and greater poverty. There’s no escaping from the fact that statistically, disability negatively affects pretty much everything from education to work to transport to holidays. That’s not to say that all lives affected by disability are sad (if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s pity) but it can be tough, especially financially.
Interested in other people’s stories, I asked in my closed Facebook group why other mums had stopped working, what industries they had left and what struggles they faced. The same themes came up again and again…