Like most parents, I think each of my children is special. My toddler can sense when I am having a rough time and gives me a hug and kiss because he knows it will make me smile. My other son developed an encyclopedic knowledge of Greek, Roman and Egyptian gods by the time he was 8. One daughter frequently spends her allowance on others or donates it to her favorite charity.
My oldest daughter, Claire, laughs easily and bucks the trend by preferring Anna to Elsa. But she has been called “special” her entire life for other, less flattering reasons. She has a rare genetic disorder, autism and other conditions. She is significantly disabled and requires assistance to do most things.
It became apparent when Claire was just a few months old that her life would... READ MORE