Everyday with Special Strength

Category: Autism Awareness

  • Shaun the Sheep and My Son’s Safe World

    Shaun the Sheep and My Son’s Safe World

    When Matthias was diagnosed with infantile autism and with a moderate intellectual disability, our world changed overnight. Everything became unpredictable — except for one thing: his love for Shaun the Sheep.

    We tried so many things to comfort him. I introduced him to Paw Patrol, Barney and Friends, even other sensory-friendly shows. But no matter what I tried, he always came back to the same quiet world of Shaun, Bitzer, and the rest of the farm.

    There’s something about Shaun the Sheep’s silent storytelling that speaks directly to Matthias’s heart. Maybe it’s the lack of dialogue — no pressure to understand words or conversations, just pure emotion, rhythm, and visual humor. Maybe it’s the consistency — the familiar farm, the soft colors, the goofy routines. Or maybe it’s just Shaun himself — silly, kind, a little rebellious, but always lovable.

    Shaun isn’t just a cartoon in our home. He’s a safe space. A comfort during seizures. A friend during long hospital stays. A tiny light when days feel uncertain.

    Some time ago, Matthias received a Shaun the Sheep stuffed toy from a dear friend named Peter. And it was as if Shaun had come to life in his arms. He simply loves it. Every time Peter visits, a special smile appears on Matthias’s face — one you only see when pure love and happiness are present. A smile that says, “You know me. You see me.”

    To this day, Season 1 and 2 remain his favorites. And I no longer try to change it. Because in a world that often feels chaotic, if Shaun brings him peace — that’s more than enough for me.

  • From Judgment to Empathy: One Small Necklace Made a Big Difference

    From Judgment to Empathy: One Small Necklace Made a Big Difference

    I’ve known about the sunflower lanyard for a while. It’s a quiet signal—a way to say, “Please be patient, not everything is visible.” But deep down, I never really wanted Matthias to wear it.

    Maybe it’s because he never keeps it on. Maybe it’s because I didn’t want to add another label to his already complicated world. Or maybe… I just wasn’t ready. Every time he took it off and threw it somewhere, it felt like another reminder that nothing about this is simple.

    Shopping with Matthias was never simple. Even a quick trip to the store could feel overwhelming. He would run around, scream, hug strangers, smell people’s clothes, and sometimes grab things and toss them into other people’s carts. I never knew what to expect. One day, a man got so upset that he pushed Matthias away. He fell. Sat on the floor, confused. And my heart broke.

    After that, I stopped bringing him with me. Or if I had no choice, I placed my 42-kilo, five-foot-tall boy in the shopping cart—because it was the only way I could keep him safe.

    Then this summer, with school out and just the two of us together, I reached a point where I told myself: maybe… maybe it’s time.

    So I put the old sunflower lanyard around his neck again.

    Matthias sitting calmly, wearing a sunflower lanyard, while people around show understanding and patience.
    A simple necklace that changed how the world saw my son.


    And something shifted.

    He ran up to an elderly woman in the walking street, kissed her cheek—his way of connecting. I held my breath. But the woman just smiled gently and said, “He is very allowed.”

    Later, while I was paying at the checkout, Matthias sat on the floor. Calm. Unbothered. And no one scolded him. No one looked at me like I was failing. No one asked, “What’s wrong with him?”

    I honestly think it was the necklace.

    It didn’t change Matthias. It didn’t change me. 
    But somehow… it changed the world around us.

    And that’s the quiet power of visibility. Not for attention. Not for sympathy. But simply to say, “Please see us. Please understand.”

    If you’ve ever wondered why someone wears a sunflower lanyard—this is why. 
    Not because our children need fixing. 
    But because society still has so much to learn about invisible differences.

    🌻


  • Mornings with Matthias: Toast, Shaun the Sheep & Bacon Chip Hugs

    Mornings with Matthias: Toast, Shaun the Sheep & Bacon Chip Hugs

    Most people think of mornings as stressful — alarms buzzing, socks missing, someone crying (hopefully not you). But in our house, mornings are a full-on production… starring Matthias, with a supporting cast of toast, sheep, and snack surprises.

    It starts the same way each day: I crawl up to his top bunk and wake him with kisses, a hug, and a song he likes. He hugs me back (yes, my heart melts every time), and that’s our unspoken deal — ‘Okay, Mama. Let’s do this.’

    Then we head to the bathroom. He pees (with some convincing), I brush his teeth, clean him up, and get him changed. We’ve got our rhythm down — not always elegant, but effective. We’re like a tiny, early-morning pit crew.

    Downstairs, he lands in his favorite chair like royalty. Stepdad’s on toast duty. I’m packing his lunch — either a croissant or a toasted sandwich with cheese — depending on what feels right in the universe that day.

    But let’s be honest — the real hero of breakfast time is Shaun the Sheep. The iPad is set up, the theme song kicks in, and balance is restored in the galaxy. Well… for about five minutes.

    Because that’s when the Matthias Joy Overload™ begins. Out of nowhere, he jumps up, hops around, lets out a happy squeal, and throws himself into our arms. Hugs. Kisses. Giggles. Repeat every 5–10 minutes. It’s basically a cardio session with snacks.

    Speaking of snacks — once it’s time to hop into the transporter car (his favorite, because he can see everything from the window), he’s rewarded with the ultimate treasure: surprise snacks. Will it be Duplo today? Spicy Pringles? Salted crackers? Bacon chips? Who knows. But his smile when he sees it? Chef’s kiss.

    And just like that — he’s off to school, beaming, belly full, backpack packed with love (and probably crumbs).

    Life with Matthias isn’t always predictable. But it’s full of joy bursts, snack rituals, and love that doesn’t need words. And honestly? I wouldn’t trade our chaotic, toast-scented mornings for anything.

    Because when your child hugs you mid-bite, mid-sheep-show, just to say ‘I’m happy’… That’s all the confirmation you need that you’re doing okay.

    To every parent dancing through routines and tiny surprises: you’re not alone — and you’re doing better than you think.