So if I could patent some inventions that I have brainstormed as useful to special needs parents at one time or another, here are what they would be.
First, soundproof and shatterproof glass in family-owned vehicles. Why can’t they install one of those divider windows you see in limousines between the front and rear seats of a minivan? I mean, really? You could lower it on good days and keep it raised on bad ones. There would be a button on the dash that you could choose to press depending on whether or not you wanted to hear what was going on in the back of the vehicle and at what volume. And of course, all of the glass would have to be shatterproof for those aggressive moments when feet are flailing and projectiles are soaring through the air.
Next, I would invent a remote control to pause meltdowns, rewind to try and change what caused them in the first place so as to prevent them altogether, and if all else fails and a meltdown is inevitable, could fast forward to get past the tantrum as quickly as possible. And remote would have a mute button, for obvious reasons. Genius.
Third, a machine similar to the one that produced the Everlasting Gobstopper in Willy Wonka. On one end, you entered a code representing your child’s DNA, molecular structure, biological make-up, everything. Maybe the end was big enough that your child could actually be drawn through the machine on a conveyor belt, all the while the machine assessing and interpreting everything about them. Then it would whistle, bang, toot, pump up and down, harrumph, simmer, and shoot smoke out the top of its chimney. With a final ding of a bell, out the other end of the machine would pop a pill. The pill would contain every single ingredient necessary to supplement your child’s diet to make up for wherever they were genetically lacking. There would be no trying medication after medication to rule out what works and what doesn’t. It would be the Jeremiah pill, the Alexander pill, the Zachary pill, the Angie pill…whatever your special need’s child name is, just fill in the blank. It would be designed specifically for them and meet every single deficiency and need they had – mentally, physically, emotionally, developmentally, etc… Then I think I would go into the machine as well because, well, I’m sure I’m lacking somewhere too!
Next, I would invent a filter that could be fitted into the back of a child’s throat and removable only by a parent or medical professional. The filter would catch all of the ugly remarks, bad words, and insulting, hurtful comments before they could ever be heard by others. There would just be silence in place of where those things would have been heard. Come to think of it, I know some adults, myself included, who could benefit from this filter. Hmmm, I may be onto something here.
Last, I would invent a micro electrode device that was installed in all babies at birth – in their buttocks. Parents would be given a remote keychain, similar to the one that unlocks your car doors. As the child grew and made poor choices and misbehaved, you could press the button on the remote and a tiny jolt of static electricity, similar to what you feel when you drag your feet on carpet and then touch something in the winter time, would course through those little butt cheeks. Just a reminder that they are being watched, a warning to change their attitudes and/or behavior. And it would never be able to be turned up or made any stronger either so that abusive and cruel parents couldn’t use it as a torture device on their kids. In fact, you could only press the button so many times in a day.
That’s all. That’s what I’d invent.
Here is a list of “you might be a special needs parent if” scenarios that maybe you can relate to. Some are pretty universal of special needs parents and others are more related directly to my circumstances with Jeremiah. I just thought you might enjoy the camaraderie and get a chuckle out of them in the process. I’m sure you can come up with some pretty creative ones of your own.
You might be a special needs parent if...
I am a Christian. I am a wife. I am a mom. I am an author. In that order.