Everyday with Special Strength

Tag: life with a special child

  • 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.

  • 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.