"We have equal rights – and sometimes that means that we need different things."

When one of those children has special needs, it’s much, much harder.

And the reactions of strangers can add an unnecessary extra layer of difficulty, says Vickey Lewis.

For Vickey, mother of Oliver, five, who has special educational needs (SEN), and Alisia, three, pointing and staring is a daily occurrence.

But the family have also encountered outright hostility, even from other parents, which can make life even more difficult.

And, as her youngest child becomes increasingly aware of what people are saying and why they are saying it, she is concerned about the impact of strangers’ lack of thought, understanding and tact when it comes to special needs children.

Oliver has alternating hemiplegia of childhood.

This rare neurological condition causes temporary paralysis in any muscle – including his organs and eyes.

As a result he has to be fed through a tube and although he can sometimes walk, he is generally dependent on a wheelchair.

He also has global developmental delay, and is non-verbal.

Vickey used to try to ignore unkind comments but these days, she speaks out in the hope of educating people about special needs and encouraging them to be more thoughtful in future.

“Oliver is quite tall for his age and looks older. When the children were younger, I’d have Alisia in a baby carrier and be pushing Oliver in a wheelchair or a special buggy. I had strangers telling me that he is lazy and I should make him walk,” says the full time carer from Shirley, Southampton.

“At that point, I tried to ignore it. But as I’ve come to terms with Oliver’s condition, I take the stance of trying to educate people. If something like that happens now, I say ‘If he could walk, we would love it.’”

Recently, the family went for a trip to a theme park. As Oliver can’t wait in queues, they had a special pass which let them go in the exit of rides.

“Oliver was having a good day, when he could walk a bit, and I was helping him down the steps, holding both his hands, when a child of around eight tried to come up. I asked if he could wait for a moment and his father said ‘well, how long have you had to wait?’, meaning that we had jumped the queue.

“I’d give up anything to stand in a queue for a ride at a theme park, rather than spending half our life going to hospital appointments or seeing the pain he experiences or when the pupil in his eye has gone enormous and I know he can’t see properly.

“We just wouldn’t be able to take him to a theme park if he had to wait in the queues, and he deserves childhood memories as much as any other child.”

For Vickey and her husband, Adrian Kowal, this point is key.

“I want to be really clear, that I would never suggest that our rights, as a family with a disabled child, should come above anyone else’s. But we have equal rights – and sometimes that means that we need different things.”

Vickey says that a little thought could go a long way.

“It would really help if people could be more aware that they don’t know people’s background and could show a bit of kindness,” she says.

“Our big fear in society is about difference, no matter what that difference is. I am still the mother of two small children and I need the same things and a bit of kindness.”

Vickey adds that while people tend to be tolerant of small children, that is often not the case with older children with special needs.

“Oliver is very impulsive,” she says.

“He can be like a two year old, pulling things off the shelves. We do everything we can not to let it happen, but when our daughter did it, people accepted it much more.

“There are always going to be grumpy people, but that sort of behaviour is more accepted when the child looks younger.

“People expect different behaviour when a child looks older, and we get a lot more negative comments.

“Life is not set up for anyone with special needs - people are more accommodating of younger children and babies.”

Sadly, the family have lost friends since Oliver’s birth. Vickey assumes that it is because they haven’t known how to interact with him and the family.

“It hurts, but you can’t dwell on it, with so much going on. And we have had friends who have been fantastic and also made some great new friends.

“These people accept Oliver for who he is. The vast majority of people who come into contact with him can’t see Oliver for Oliver. They see his disabilities, not him.

“His condition is extremely rare, literally one in a million. It varies from morning to afternoon, and we never know which Oliver we’re going to get.

“He can suddenly be paralysed in any muscle – those that control his breathing, his leg, his arm, and so on.

“He is predominantly non-verbal and the noises he makes can cause some staring and tutting.

“But he is a delightful little boy. He has an amazing smile. People need to realise that in many ways he is the same as any other five-year-old boy, who loves things like Spiderman and trains.

“His understanding is much better than his ability to express but he uses body language, points and make noises.”

Vickey says that being a mother of a child with special needs is like living on a rollercoaster.

“I’m on call 24/7. He barely sleeps. I had to give up work as a physiotherapist to care for him.

“However, the thing with SEN parenting is that although the lows are awful, the highs are brilliant. It’s extremes. We have learnt to treasure small things in life. “Like when he first learnt to blow a whistle, we were so excited. My friends with typically developing children thought I was a bit nuts, but it was a major achievement for us!”

And while strangers may see Oliver’s wheelchair, or his feeding tube, Vickey and the rest of Oliver’s family, just see the little boy who they know and love.

“Once someone came up to me on the Common and asked if they could pray with us for Oliver to be healed.

“I’m a Christian but that was still hard. Yes, he has complex health issues, but why does he need to be healed?

“Why can’t you see him for the child he is?”