The See Glass Sibling
Glass children- we all know them, you may not even realize it when you meet them. You know the kids I’m talking about, the ones that are so easy going that you might just forget that they are even there in the room, at all. The ones that are ‘fine’ and ‘can handle it’ and they seem to never make a fuss you can practically - see - right - through - them. As adults, we give praise to them for it, the way we do for all kind and humble behaviors in children, but to glass children, it's more complex than just generous praise. Because as we know, glass children are the siblings of the kids with disabilities or the son or daughter of a chronically sick parent or family member. They are the kids whose needs go un-seen because someone special in their life needs to be seen more. That realization is a hard pill to swallow. At least it was when I realized I have a glass child of my own. It happens so naturally over time, seamlessly even, and then it hits you, that you are watching the trauma culminate; and then celebrate it as maturity; simultaneously and completely un-intentionally.
Everett has always been so darling. Happy and smiling, his bright blue ocean eyes always observing. Eyes he must have gotten from my own mother, cause mine are green like my fathers. Curious, and always a happy helper in our home. He is so smart, funny and kind. He is a wonderful brother to Wyatt and he loves him very much, that goes without saying. I worry for him though, about what he doesn’t say, in those moments when I watch him from a distance and he doesn’t know it. When I observe his mannerisms. I see a flash here and there, a sunken facial expression. An eye roll, or a shoulder slump. The let downs. I see them when others don’t, I see them when he thinks that everyone else has looked away.
Growing up alongside your neuro divergent twin brother who struggles significantly with things like speaking, social cues and has a whole wide world of sensory sensitivities; brings both incredible benefits and some very real challenges. On the positive side, Everett has developed a deeper understanding of autism and disabilities in general, more so than most of his peers-and even many adults. He has and will continue to have the privilege of knowing many individuals with different abilities and understanding how to offer his support and friendship to them. That is knowledge that you can't get from a school education necessarily, but will serve him throughout his life. He has learned patience, and that fair doesn't always exactly equate. Let’s just say that he has had his share of character building at the young age of 9. He was given a big fat promotion to “big brother” without much warning or the proper credentials from a very young age, and those shoes were way too big for years to come. I will say though, they are starting to fit a little better these days.
All I knew from the start of this parental journey is that Everett was the easier of my two boys. He was more willing to ‘just go with it’, he didn’t cry and fuss and demand as much. In a way, I needed him to be easier, and I was actually grateful that he was. Even so, I knew deep down that he will most likely not leave childhood without his share of scars. I told myself, they aren’t the type of scars you get from being neglected or un-loved, they were the kind that helped you build the character you need in this world to survive. I told myself lies, I had to. I had no other choice at the time. The choices we have as special needs parents are not always the easiest. Everett has gotten less attention, consistently throughout his life. Although we always did our best to spread attention, the dysregulated child wins the attention - every time. Bath time, dinner time, playtime, therapy, naptime, and car trips were all difficult for Wyatt. They often required extra adults, attention and time. I’m talking about it like it was in the past, but it isn’t. This is still something we deal with on a regular basis.
Wyatt is in feeding therapy right now to try to help him expand on his extremely limited diet. Some children with autism experience extreme sensitivities to certain foods/drinks, food groups or food textures and even water, making trying new things seem at times almost traumatic. We work with an occupational therapist to help introduce new foods and drinks for Wyatt weekly. We also work on drinking out of an open cup, a skill we have not successfully learned yet. Family dinner looks a bit different at our house while we work on simply smelling, licking, or even bravely placing something undesired or new for Wyatt to try on his plate, to only just even be tolerated there. Everett accompanies us to therapy each week, he always has, since Wyatt was a baby. Giving up his free time to sit in a car or sit in a waiting room.
How do you look your child in the face and tell them what they want isn't as important as what someone else needs or wants? In all honesty we don't have to even say the words out loud to their faces, they can see it in our actions and feel it from our hearts - even when it isn't malicious or intentional. Always trying to be mindful of the dynamic between my boys, I did my best to set up play dates with typical developing friends, special parent “dates”, special solo trips to grandma and papa’s house to be spoiled for hours on end. At the end of the day though, the message is the same. Your needs aren't as obvious or important as his.
I think it has been harder for Everett to develop his sense of self too. It is hard to get to know what you want or like when you haven't had the same opportunities to get to know yourself or play with a sibling in a typical manner. Wyatt didn’t participate in much imaginative play as a typical developing child - it was a skill he didn’t possess at the time. Instead he perseverated on cars or other small toys, usually wheels particularly, playing obsessively for hours. Everett grew up with another child in the same room as him that couldn't play with toys functionally. They didn’t talk, or have any back and forth communication for at least a solid five or more years. Say what you want about only children, but there is a difference to me between being in a room that only has one child in it, and being in a room with another child in the room who is unreachable.
Because of these things, Everett often minimizes his own hardships. I see him trying to be the one who doesn’t mess up, who doesn’t cause family stress, who can handle it himself. Even when he does need us. He does not want to be a burden on us. I hate that he is sheltering us from his hardships. As much as we love Wyatt, his demands are often centered around himself and his own needs. Of course we honor those needs, but also are trying to help Wyatt understand that he also has to be held to a certain standard too, it's important, even if the standards are different. I will not let Everett grow up thinking that Wyatt never had to sacrifice or challenge himself either. I hold both my children's feet to the fire at times, and to be completely honest, it's necessary. We don’t grow unless we are challenged. At the end of the day, I cannot shield either of them from this life we have and the challenges we face. I can however be right by their sides while they navigate through it and that’s exactly what I intend to do.
