We Rinnagades are high maintenance. There, I admitted it.
My hubby and I used to think this was because I insisted on ordering Arnold Palmers in the south where no one seems to know what they are.
A couple years later, I said I had an excuse for being high maintenance when I was diagnosed with Celiac Disease and had to inspect every morsel of food that went into my body.
Next came autism…diagnosis #1.
Then, autism diagnosis #2
And most recently, our youngest son’s ADHD diagnosis.
Not to mention my husband’s existing one.
The politically correct way of referring to our children would probably be “special needs.” But, I’m trying to adopt the terminology I borrow from Dr. Sears – “high needs.”
Every child – every human – has special needs. Needs that custom fit their unique personalities. Needs that need to be met for them to feel whole.
We’re no different; we just have more of those needs. And the needs are more intense and specific.
Like the intense and specific needs of a new baby girl.
And not always in a good way.
But this is the hand we were dealt, and by no means did this happen by accident.
See, God doesn’t make mistakes.
Our circumstances don’t catch Him by surprise.
Which means this all must be for a purpose.
Most days, I have no idea what that purpose is.
And in the end, it doesn’t matter if I ever figure it out.
What I do know, is there’s only one thing to do about it…