All the children were scrambling down the tower of steps that led to the curvy slide at Chick-Fil-A, complaining and yelling about a boy sitting at the top being “mean.” Parents quizzed their children, “who is doing what?” “Where?” “A boy?” “He won’t let anyone go by?” It was hard to decipher exactly the problem was with about 10 kids all talking at once, but it was clear that there was a boy who wasn’t letting the other children climb up the steps to the slide.
The mood amongst the parents became indiginant. Murmurs could be heard, chastising the offending child’s mother for not watching him closely. Eyes searched the crowd for her, angry thoughts were being translated into verbal tirades against the boy’s mother.
Amid the chaos, a boy had left the play area get his mother. He pulled a very tired looking pregnant woman into the play area.
“I tried to get him to come down, Mom. He won’t come.”
The pregnant woman calmly called up to the boy. “David*, go down the slide or come back down. You have to let the other children by.”
Murmurs continued through the crowd of parents, words like “finally” and “she better” could be heard. Eyes rolled and glared, arms were crossed.
The face of the pregnant woman became increasingly red, her commands to her son sitting at the top of the steps became increasingly desperate. “David. You MUST go down the slide or climb down, now. Please.”
Once the children realized that she was that boy’s mother, they all started tattling on him at once.
“He won’t let us by!”
“He’s being mean!”
She smiled meekly at the mob of children, “He’s not being mean. He just likes to find a place to sit. Can you just go by him, he won’t hurt you?” Her question was less a question than it was a plea.
After several minutes the even more tired looking and pregnant woman removed her shoes and resolved to climb to the top and retrieve her son. Somehow she managed to navigate her belly through the child size openings between the steps. She could be heard talking, almost begging the boy to come down.
Eventually, both mother and son emerged. The mother sweaty, her nearly teary eyes avoided the eyes of the other parents. She held tightly to David’s hand. David looked to be about nine or ten years old and also looked different. He didn’t speak or make eye contact, he moaned and flailed his arms, as his mother struggled to put his socks and shoes back on his feet. She spoke to her other son as they made their way out of the play area, but she was really talking to all the mothers whispering under their breath and said, “He just likes to find a place to sit. He wasn’t trying to hurt anyone.”
After they’d left the play area, the other mothers started talking. “She should have been paying attention, I mean, it was obvious there was something WRONG with him.” “He shouldn’t have even been up there.” “The kids couldn’t even play with him around.”
I sat quietly observing the entire time. Originally I had felt annoyed at David’s mom for not paying attention to her son that was causing so much turmoil amongst the kids and their parents, too often parents completely ignore their kids while they play. Once I saw that David appeared to be impaired in some way, I felt conflicted. Yes, his mom should have been paying attention, and maybe she had been, maybe she turned away for a minute to inhale a bite or two of her sandwich, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t be called to the rescue. I know that I’ve looked away from my own kids only to turn around and find them in the midst of impending disaster. Also, I felt like David had as much right as any kid to be playing, even if his version of playing was simply sitting, albeit in a spot that blocked all the other kids.
I felt badly that nobody, including myself, had offered to help that mom retrieve her son when she was forced to climb the steps, pregnant. (I realize he probably wouldn’t have come for a stranger, but still.) I felt badly that nobody, including myself, had offered her a smile or reassuring words. I felt badly that nobody, including myself, asked the catty mothers to show a little compassion, to remind them that even though their children are “normal,” it could just as easily have been their child causing trouble at the top of steps. I felt badly that nobody, including myself, reminded these women that they are not perfect parents either.
*David was not his real name.
What a wonderful, wonderful post. Everyday moments are full of so many life-lessons. Thanks for sharing your experience and for reminding us all to be compassionate.
.-= PsychMamma´s last blog ..Chicken Pox Parties and Vaccinations =-.
I know you wish you’d handled things differently at the time, but just by blogging about it you’re helping the rest of us to take a different perspective the next time we’re faced with a similar situation.
Very good post, and a good reminder for all of us.
.-= Devan´s last blog ..ho hum =-.
Great post! That one really hit home for me for sure. Sniff.
.-= Jean M.´s last blog ..WW: A to Z Queen of the Sno Cone =-.
Next time you, and the rest of us (who have *all* stood by at one time or another, not acting as well as we could have) will do better.
Thanks for the reminder.
Andrea’s Sweet Life said what I wanted to say. Maybe next time we’ll all handle the situation differently.
.-= Shelly´s last blog ..Blech =-.
That cattiness that women exhibit for one another doesn’t go away just because they become parents, unfortunately. Care and compassion are there or they aren’t. I think it was Maya Angelou that said something like “when you know better, you do better.” Now that those mothers know better, hopefully they will do better. Thank you for sharing your story.
Great Post!
Some women will complain over anything. It sounds like this pregnant mother had her hands full.
.-= Crystal´s last blog ..On a Positive Note =-.
I hope we are all able to learn from this. And do better, next time. I have a hard time with it too, getting a reminder is never a bad thing.
.-= Mrs Soup´s last blog ..Wordless Wednesday – Conversations with Grammy =-.
I got a lump in my throat with this one. Sigh. We try so hard you know? That mother does too. We aren’t perfect but this post, the aknowledgement of this, is damn near close.
.-= Miss´s last blog ..The one with the things I want =-.
Jennifer, it is posts like this one that remind me why I fell in bloglove with you in the first place.
This is wonderful, thank you so much for sharing this.
.-= rachel-asouthernfairytale´s last blog ..Scary Mommy and The Pants Dilemma =-.
I love it when you talk so honestly and openly.
I admire you, JenniferD.
xoxo
Thanks for the reminder to show love for other people- it’s so easy to judge and condemn, and so tough to remember that we dont know the full story. I needed to be reminded of that.
.-= Carrie´s last blog ..The days are long, but the years are short =-.
Even if David wasn’t special, it wouldn’t hurt for all of us to show more compassion. After all, sometimes our kid’s the “bully”. Other times, he’s the victim… and most of us have been that tired, overwhelmed pregnant woman at some point.
Excellent post, Jennifer!!!
.-= Formerly Gracie´s last blog ..34 Weeks =-.
Oh <3. Sometimes I think that often times we are too quick to judge, when compassion or patience might be the better option. Lovely post, hey. I love your honesty.
Right on, Jennifer. I love how honest you were, here.
Wow… really makes you think about the backstory during occasions like this. Thanks for sharing.
.-= Tara R.´s last blog ..Cheesecake… it’s what’s for birthdays =-.
Aw, Jennifer, your commenters are fantastic. They adore you!
.-= Jillian´s last blog ..Father’s Day in review =-.
Wonderfully written.
If nothing else, we learn about ourselves every day, and take that experience to mold us into better mothers, better friends, better humans.
.-= AndreAnna´s last blog ..Whiskers on kittens… =-.
Ahhh, this one, it hurt me. Heartbreaking, and a good reminder to be compassionate. Brilliant, Jennifer.
.-= mrs. chicken´s last blog ..The Label Maker =-.
Great post. Thank you for reminding us to be more compassionate. I need it a lot more than I dish it out.
It’s definitely a good reminder that we could all use a little more patience in our lives. Thanks for such a great post.
.-= NGS´s last blog ..A father’s legacy =-.
I have been in the position “David’s” mother was in several times myself. Those stares and catty remarks hurt. A lot. I have to tell you though that it’s nice to read your reaction to the whole situation. I just hope you weren’t the only mother in the group able to reflect on the event and see what could have been done differently. Thank you so much for sharing this.
.-= Jen´s last blog ..Slip n Slide "fun" =-.
Wow. This post gets me where it hurts most. My heart.
That very easily could have been me on that play area. My 6 year old daughter is non verbal autistic. She loves going to playgrounds. The slide is her favorite. She’ll make a beeline for it every time and she’ll sit at the top, soaking in all the activity around her. Once she’s had enough, she slides. But it’s not easy to coax her down if she’s not ready.
I feel for that woman. The stares, the whispers, the snarky comments. It’s all happened to me and will continue to happen to me and other parents like me until people can be more open minded about autism and other disabilities.
Thank you for posting this.
That mother and David could have been me and my younger son, with only a few slight differences.
My younger son is, I believe, God’s answer to my repeated prayers that I learn to be more patient and less judgmental.
I am usually the mom who gets the stares and the catty comments because my son is different and doesn’t play the same way. He is a 6 year old in a 3 year old’s body with a 2 year old’s mind. Those stares and comments hurt more than anyone can imagine. While I’m silently celebrating the fact that my son finally was able to navigate the tunnel up to the slide after months of trying, the other mothers are glaring at me and whispering about what a bad mother I must be. But you know what hurts even more than that? It’s the fact that my son hears those whispers and he sees those glares. He doesn’t know he’s different. Until someone else points it out to him.
Thank you for this post. I hope others learn from it.
I’ve been that mom. Oh, I’ve been that mom. I’ve been teary and apologetic and I’ve had to climb to the top of the play structure to retrieve my child. I’m sure people have judged me and my autistic guy and I’ve felt angry and sad and apologetic and conflicted.
I have tears in my eyes reading this. I am so glad you wrote it. I think it is so important for all of us (and I am just as guilty of being annoyed at other people’s kids as anyone else) to understand that we can’t know what is going on with another child.
Thank you for this post. It’s honest and painful and wonderful.
Hopefully it reminds us all to take a second look at a situation to see if we can somehow make the outcome a bit better for all.
Great Post. xoxo
It is so hard to remember, “Judge not, lest ye be judged.”
I will try to remember.
Thank you.
.-= Amo´s last blog ..I couldn’t love you more than this. =-.
Thank you for the honesty, the chance to think about things and situations we perhaps should be more patient in, and the reminder that we can all lend a helping hand sometimes, even if it’s just the kind sincere offer of assistance.
<3
.-= Cute~Ella´s last blog ..Then and Now. =-.
I read this post with tears in my eyes.
Oh God how I know that situation… beautifully written.
you just never know …
.-= the planet of janet´s last blog ..If you want politically correct, you’re in the wrong place =-.
Autistic or not, the fact that everyone just sat there and let a pregnant woman climb to the top of a play structure without a single person offering to help makes my blood absolutely boil. Good grief.
I agree with your take away message/point, and you expressed it in a touching way, but I’m a little flabbergasted that this (specifically: I have a responsibility to be kind to others, I should help others when they need help, I should not just sit around and do nothing when pregnant women need assistance) appears to be new information to anyone, and not just something that would immediately occur to the average fourth grader.
Well said. But it’s a very difficult situation when the “right thing” to do doesn’t come to you until after the moment has past.
This weekend, we were at a park where a woman FELL asleep while her 5-yo was playing. She was curled under a blanket for at least two hours, totally passed out. In hindsight, there is so much more I would have done than what I did. But it’s because of that situation, I’ll better know what to do … next time.
@Cameo, I agree, it is appalling that I did not offer to help. What may be even more appalling, though, is that it DID occur to me at the time to help and I didn’t. At the time, I justified not helping because I was chasing my very tiny 2 year old around children much larger than her. I thought to myself that I couldn’t possibly offer to help, but looking back now, I wish I would have asked that mom if she’d watch my daughter while I climbed up for her.
I bet I’m not the only mom who is kicking herself after the fact that she didn’t help, especially when she knew that she SHOULD have.
Thank you.
As a mom of a boy with Asberger’s who is now 15 and doing very very well, I have been there, begging him to come down. More than anything else, my son has taught me to have compassion on those “other” kids who just need a place to sit away from the chaos. But even more so, the moms and playing kids need compassion and grace, so that hopefully they will be slower to judge the next time.
We teach our kids how to treat others, and what compassion looks like.
One of the things that you’re really hitting on here is how difficult it can be to step back from keeping our own children safe, behaving appropriately, etc. to see things from another person’s perspective… Sometimes the magnitude of situations like that don’t hit me until later either. I guess all we can do is try to heighten our awareness for the next time.
This happened to me when I was 8 months pregnant. My son was almost 2 then, climbed in one of those tunnels in Playland in McDonalds and would not come back down…he was crying and scared…and I had to weasle my fat body up those tubes to retrieve him. Thank god my sister was with me, who was also pregnant at the time, because she had to pull my legs to get me out of Playland!
Don’t judge a man until you’ve walked a mile in his moccasins. Why is compassion so much harder to come by than judgement and ridicule? Great post, Thanks!
.-= Juliet´s last blog ..Sobriety =-.
What a heart-wrenching lesson, Jennifer – mainly because it’s happened to all of us. That moment when you realize, “Oh, I should have done something. I COULD have done something.” Good reminder for all of us, I think – thank you.
.-= Mary @ Giving Up On Perfect´s last blog ..Things I Love Thursday: My Bedroom Furniture =-.
i swear, we women are like sharks who can smell a drop of mother’s insecurity from a mall away.
i am the mother of a four year old son adopted from another country. he
doesn’t look like me and from day one, we have had to deal with people’s stares, whispers and direct comments. i’ve learned to deal with it, but it has absolutely made me more aware of situations like the one you describe and i try to always be the first one in there, offering help and an understnading smile. it’s amazing how a simple smile or a humorous comment loud enough for everyone else to hear can ease someone else’s burden in a situation like this.
As the mother of “that” child, this made me cry. You really have no idea what it’s like to parent a different child. One that means no harm whatsoever, and yet sometimes seems to cause problems just because he sees the world differently. While I know that parents of normal kids can’t understand (I didn’t until I had him), and while the other parents offered no help or compassion, THANK YOU for posting this. THANK YOU for making others realize that different isn’t wrong, and that maybe those moms as well as those children need a little more of a wide berth. Even without the big, pregnant belly.
.-= Karen´s last blog ..Little Boy Bliss =-.
It is frustrating how quick other parents are to judge. Maybe it is because my kids are older but I prefer to sit back and let them play. I think conflict resolution is skill everyone must learn. I have definitely seen the annoyed parents scene before. The other parents should’ve gien the lady a break and let the kid play.
What is it that makes us women think we are so much better than someone else? I’m guessing all of us have moments when we cringe at our kids’ (and our) behavior. Thank you for the reminder to be compassionate – whether the child is ‘different’ or the mother is pregnant.
Those moments are so HARD. Especially reflecting upon them at a later point in time. Kuddos to you for recognizing it. Being a mom is hard work.
When our youngest was very small, we saw strange behaviors in him from time to time. Asperbers kids are like that. Young ‘David’ would seem to be in similar circumstances, albeit a bit more severe than anything my son ever experienced. That said, the one thing we learned about people is that taken one at a time, engaged in conversation and informed as to what the situation is, people will take the opportunity to be empathetic and sympathetic to a child’s issues. It’s GROUPS of ‘normal’ people who are usually less than tolerant.
Thanks Jennifer. As always, a great point. We are so quick to judge other parents, but when we are judged we can’t believe it! There is a REASON our kids are acting like that at that particular moment. A great reminder to practice compassion.
Having had a different kid — although not one so “obviously” different — I nearly cried reading this.
.-= patois´s last blog ..Baby, Comeback! =-.
Snarky Mom, your son sounds similar to mine. Mine is 5, with the body of a 7 year old but the maturity of a 3 year old (immature 4 on a good day. lol).