To the Mom with Quirky Kids

Updated: Sep 15, 2021


Hey, friend.


I’m going to say something you’ve probably been thinking but have maybe been too nervous to say out loud:


As a mom living in the digital age, you feel it necessary to mold yourself to a certain set of expectations.


They’re everywhere:


On your Pinterest boards, featuring crafts your kids would never sit still for.


On the websites of bloggers you admire, celebrating the liturgical year with panache.


In the pew in front of you at Mass: touching examples of large families with moms who seem put together and kids who are reverent and attentive.


And then there’s you, decidedly NOT nailing it.

You wonder: maybe God was confused or made a glaring mistake with your motherhood. Maybe if you were a better mother, a better person, more prayerful, more faithful, you wouldn’t have to manage the outbursts, the meltdowns, the impulsive behavior of the kids He’s given you to hold.

You’re drowning, not with 4+ kids, but with one or two.


Craft time devolves into chaos.


You can’t get to Mass on time because someone can’t stand the feeling of clothes or shoes.


Community events are embarrassing because invisible disabilities look like behavioral problems, and what are you supposed to do anyway? Carry pamphlets that say, “Hey, let me tell you about us and Diagnosis X”?


You wonder: maybe God was confused or made a glaring mistake with your motherhood. Maybe if you were a better mother, a better person, more prayerful, more faithful, you wouldn’t have to manage the outbursts, the meltdowns, the impulsive behavior of the kids He’s given you to hold.


And you wouldn’t be so confused, either, because through it all, your kids are so perceptive and smart.


How is it that they can handle advanced math and reading concepts but can barely tie their shoes or sit still during the consecration?


Clearly, there’s potential for them to change this pagan world (a la Mother Angelica).


But you have to make sure they survive to adulthood and stay faithful to the magisterium first.


Why would God pick you for such a difficult job?


Here’s the hard-won truth, my friend.


It’s because He knows you.


It’s because He knows your kids.


He formed you, and He formed their beautifully different wiring. Their neurodiversity is intentional and needed.


And so are you, to help these children follow God’s will.


Like St. Maximillian Kolbe, who despite having had zero executive function skills, was devoted to Our Lady and embraced true sacrifice.


Like St. Zelie Martin and her daughters St. Therese and Leonie, who were stubborn, ill-tempered, and overtly melancholic, yet fully surrendered to God.


Like St. Thorlak and St. Joseph de Cupertino, who were socially awkward and shunned by men, but were created on purpose by a perfect God for a perfect purpose.