Navigating Family Life with Both Complex and Typically Developing Children

A post on Reddit recently sparked a wave of emotions for me. A family shared that they’d chosen to go on holiday without their autistic son, leaving him with grandparents because he struggles so much with change that it ruins the trip for everyone. They said that by leaving him behind, the rest of the family got to relax and make happy memories together.

I understand where they’re coming from, I guess. Family holidays can be intense at the best of times, and when one child finds it distressing or dysregulating, it can affect the whole family dynamic. Parents often feel torn between wanting to protect their child with additional needs and giving their other children the chance to experience something “normal.” There’s even a term for these siblings; glass children, because they’re often seen through, as parents focus their attention on the child who needs more support.

But it also made me deeply sad.

Because for children who are already excluded by society, from activities, from classrooms, from understanding, being left behind at home while the rest of the family goes away risks reinforcing that sense of otherness. It says, “The world is not built for you. And sometimes, even your family can’t be either.”

That’s something I never want for my son.

We have two children, one with complex needs and one typically developing. Doing things all together isn’t always easy, it can be chaotic and exhausting. But we would never just leave Elias with someone else so we could go off and have fun as a family of three. Instead, we find ways to make it work differently. Sometimes that means shorter trips, quieter destinations, or more flexible plans. Sometimes it means one of us stays back for a bit while the other takes our younger son on a small adventure. We've had to come up with attack plans for attending big family gatherings where all everyone wants to do is give Elias a massive hug and a kiss, and all he wants to do is fade into the background and be left alone to his own devices.

I hope we’re raising Elias’ brother to see him as part of our team. Not a burden or an obstacle to fun, but someone who belongs in every moment we can manage together. And I hope he always knows that we love them both equally, even if “equal” sometimes looks like “different.”

That Reddit post did, however, remind me of the importance of balance. I’ve been thinking about planning some mother-son time because he deserves his own special memories, too. It doesn’t have to be extravagant. Even a day at the park, just the two of us, without the usual interruptions, can mean the world.

Balancing the Needs of All Your Children

Parenting children with vastly different needs is a constant act of juggling love, guilt, and practicality. Here are a few things that can help:

1. Redefine what “family time” looks like.

It doesn’t have to be a traditional holiday or outing. Maybe it’s a picnic in the garden, a car ride to a quiet nature spot, or even a cosy movie night where everyone can participate in their own way. Inclusion can be creative.

2. Create special moments for each child.

A child with complex needs often requires more one-on-one care, but that makes it even more vital to carve out intentional time for siblings where they feel seen and heard, too.

3. Talk openly about differences.

Avoid pretending everything is the same when it isn’t. Honest, age-appropriate conversations about why a sibling might need extra help can prevent resentment and help build empathy.

4. Share the emotional load.

If you have a partner, take turns being the “point person.” If you don’t, lean on your wider network; friends, family, or support groups. No one should have to hold it all alone.

5. Let go of perfection.

You won’t always get the balance right. Some days, one child will get more attention than the other. What matters is the long-term message: both are loved, valued, and included.

Raising a family that includes a child with complex needs is never going to look picture-perfect...and maybe it’s not supposed to. The beauty often comes from the small victories: a shared laugh, a calm moment, a trip that went mostly okay.

Because in the end, inclusion isn’t about doing everything together all the time. It’s about making sure that every child - every single one - knows they belong.