My Kids and I Are Living Our Best Lives. But We All Know the Reason This Can Never Last.
Slate · L · trust 23/100
Care and Feeding is Slate’s parenting advice column. Have a question for Care and Feeding? Submit it here .
Three years ago, we moved to our current city for my husband’s job. We’ve ended up somewhere where a lot just clicks for us. Our 12-year-old is autistic and suddenly his IEP is more than just a piece of paper—he’s thriving in a way I’ve never seen, doing things in the mainstream classroom that previous schools insisted weren’t possible for him. I now understand that he was getting passed over more than I knew in past school programs. Our older kids are also doing well, with friendships and niche interests they haven’t had access to before. For me, it was harder to break in socially, but the politics are a better fit, and I now feel like my friendships are based on more than just proximity.
My husband’s career means we move frequently, sometimes as often as every two years. I knew this when we had kids. I never get too attached to a place, because home is your family, not your address. But this time feels different. I’m finding it hard to keep one foot out the door the way I have in the past.
Our kids are anxiously asking me how much longer we can stay. The emotional intensity behind that is new. I don’t want to leave, either, especially the school system. But I have no way to know what comes next, and I don’t know how to answer this question. My husband isn’t going to change his career, and we couldn’t afford this area if his work wasn’t supporting our housing. How do I handle this uncertainty for myself and for our kids?
I think you need to start with the truth: When your kids ask how long you’ll be where you are, tell them you don’t know. Acknowledge their feelings, whatever they are—make sure they know that it’s okay to feel worried or sad about moving; they don’t have to pretend or put on a brave face.
I know how difficult it is to contemplate yet another school transfer, especially when you have an autistic child. But as you know, moving doesn’t have to mean starting from scratch on the IEP—you can and will be sharing it with his new school team. Now you actually know what it looks like when he has the right supports and accommodations, and all his growth and progress will back that up. Document everything that has worked. Make sure every single thing that’s been helpful is noted in his IEP, and advocate for those same supports and strategies wherever you go.
Yes, your husband’s job will probably require a move, sooner or later. You get to feel sad about that, too. In the meantime, though, you and your children should also feel free to love and enjoy and fully invest in where home is right now—you don’t have to hold anything back, or keep one foot out the door. If and when you do move, your family will all still be together, and hopefully you will remember how to carry that feeling of home with you to a new place.
I take great care in my cooking. All the produce I use is freshly picked from my organic garden. I don’t cook with salt or spices, as it is healthier and my family has a history of heart disease. I taught myself how to cook in my youth and it is a passion of mine. My husband adores my cooking. However, lately, my daughter has been belittling my cooking abilities. “Jenna” is 15 and has gradually stopped eating any of the food I make. She has started cooking her own meals after my husband and I eat, as the kitchen isn’t free until after we’ve tidied up. She spent the birthday money her grandparents gave her on cookbooks and spices, and has been begging us to buy her certain kitchen appliances. I’m happy that she shares my interest in cooking, but her refusal to eat my food is deeply insulting.
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