Fifty Shades of Mommy Originally Published October 1, 2026 by Fifty Shades of Mommy
October is Down Syndrome Awareness Month.
Years ago, when Leilani was five, I wrote about Down syndrome awareness and something that has always been incredibly important to me:
Leilani has Down syndrome. But Down syndrome does not define who she is.
Back then, she was five years old. Spunky. Sassy. Funny. Emotional. Helpful. Strong-willed. Seven years later? Not much has changed. Well… except now she is 12, in sixth grade, officially a middle schooler, and somehow has even stronger opinions about how things should be done. Leilani is funny. She is stubborn. She is full of positive energy. She does not particularly enjoy being told what to do, and there is a very good chance she is going to do things her own way anyway.
She is, quite simply, a force of nature. And yes, she also has Down syndrome.
Our story has always been a little different. [You can read her diagnosis story here.] We didn’t even know Leilani had Down syndrome until a week before her first birthday. To this day, we still haven’t met another family whose diagnosis story is quite like ours. But as she has gotten older, I have realized that the diagnosis itself isn’t the part I think about the most anymore.
I think about belonging.
Middle School Changes Things
Middle school is hard.
Honestly, kids can be mean at this age. They’re figuring out who they are, where they belong and who fits into which group. Differences that younger kids may not have paid much attention to suddenly become much more noticeable. And as a mom, that scares me.
Because I know there will be people who underestimate Leilani. There will be kids who don’t understand her. There may be kids who leave her out. And no matter how independent she becomes or how old she gets, there will always be a part of me watching from the sidelines, wondering whether people are truly including her or simply allowing her to be there.
There is a difference. And this year, a group of girls and one incredible coach reminded me what real inclusion looks like.
She Finally Gets to Be a Cheerleader
Leilani has talked about wanting to be a cheerleader for YEARS. Sports are a huge part of our family, but for most of her life, Leilani has been the one on the sidelines. She has spent countless hours watching her brothers compete and cheering them on. And trust me, she takes that job seriously. But this year, it was finally her turn. Leilani joined cheerleading. I can’t even explain how excited (and nervous) we were for her. For once, she wasn’t just watching someone else participate.
She had a team.
She had practices.
She had a uniform.
She had something that was hers.
And yes, some things are harder for her. Leilani sometimes needs more time to learn a routine. She may need something demonstrated more than once. Something that another girl picks up quickly might take her a little longer. That means she has to work harder. And she does. She keeps practicing. She keeps trying. And every week, you can see the progress. But what has meant just as much to me is watching the people around her.
This Is What Inclusion Looks Like
Her coach has been incredible. She hasn’t treated Leilani like she is incapable of doing something. She hasn’t pushed her off to the side because teaching her might take a little more time. She has given her opportunities. She has encouraged her. And she has created an environment where the other girls do the same. At one practice, the girls wanted Leilani to get up onto another cheerleader’s shoulders. Leilani was nervous. And instead of moving on without her, they encouraged her.
They helped her.
They cheered her on.
And then she did it.
And LOOK AT THAT SMILE.
Actually, look at all of their smiles.
That picture means more to me than those girls will probably ever know. Because that is inclusion. It’s not lowering expectations. It’s not feeling sorry for someone. It’s not saying, “Sure, she can be here too.”
It’s saying: Come on. You’ve got this. We’ll help you.
It’s giving someone the chance to try. It’s understanding that they may get there differently than you do. It’s celebrating when they do. And sometimes, it’s believing they can do something before they believe it themselves.
Awareness Is Important. Acceptance Is Better. Belonging Is Everything.
When I wrote about Down Syndrome Awareness Month seven years ago, I asked parents to teach their children compassion and respect. I worried about the people who would someday be mean to my daughter simply because she was different. I still worry about that. Maybe even more now. Because she’s 12. And middle school can be brutal. I know I can’t protect her from every rude comment, every person who underestimates her or every moment when she realizes that someone sees her differently.
But I also know there are kids like these girls. There are coaches like hers. There are people who choose to include instead of exclude. People who encourage instead of underestimate. People who don’t just make room for someone like Leilani, but make her feel like the space was hers all along.
And to this momma? That means everything. These girls have taken her in. They’ve encouraged her. They’ve helped her push past her fears. They’ve cheered for her. Most importantly, they’ve given her something real to be a part of. Not a special version. Not something created only for her. A team.
Her team.
And I cannot begin to explain how happy that makes me. So this October, during Down Syndrome Awareness Month, I hope we can move beyond simply being aware of people with Down syndrome.
Invite them.
Include them.
Challenge them.
Encourage them.
Give them the opportunity to surprise you.
Because sometimes inclusion looks like a big program, an accommodation or a change in policy. And sometimes? It looks like a bunch of middle school girls standing around one of their teammates, encouraging her to climb onto someone’s shoulders. And then celebrating like crazy when she does.
I never thought I’d be a cheer mom. Yet here I am. Except I’ve realized I’m barely watching the game. I’m watching the cheerleaders on the sidelines.
Cheering them on.
And I’m loving every minute of it. ❤️
