He’s not naughty, he’s got autism
I have just had the dubious pleasure, or rather the unsolicited challenge, of being offered child rearing tips in a supermarket.
I employ the word challenge as said advice was aimed in the direction of Midget 1, and specifically my handling of his behaviour. Midget 1 (herein The Boy) is a 5 year old blond beauty, big for his age, a marvellously funny boy full of personality and vim, who also happens to be autistic.
As a family, myself and the children are well known in the area. I imagine that is this is partly because I can regularly be seen waiting for Midget 2 to arise, phoenix style, as a well behaved child after she propels herself to the ground, screaming of how ill her lot in life is in the way that only a 3 year old girl can. It might also be that I am often heard long before I am seen, singing songs, reciting long lists for The Boy to remember about that day’s schedule, inviting both Midgets to join me in counting as a calming measure. No doubt many of them have been witness to The Boy’s excellent dog impressions, or a reaction to over sensory stimulation, be it an odd noise, a particularly bright light, or that he is just having a ‘bad day’.
We are lucky to live in quite a small town, that narrowly misses being a village by virtue of the fact that it has a supermarket and a shopping centre of sorts. The majority of the people that live here are good, decent, tolerant and kind to all comers. The town itself has been described as many things by visitors over the years but in itself, although not perfect and desperately underfunded, the lack of services are made up for by the tolerant people.
Normally, when I need to do shopping of any kind, I go alone whilst both Midgets are at school. It means that all three of us are saved a great deal of stress, them in having to tolerate it, me in having to remain calm whilst trying to keep them calm.
The Boy hates all shops (unless it deals solely in toys, naturally) but he particularly dislikes supermarkets. It is a sensory overload as I imagine those of you with children on the spectrum can empathise with.
Today, with the summer holidays still in full effect and The Boy only willing to drink one particular brand of apple juice (which luckily is also the bribe used to attempt to enforce good behaviour whilst out shopping), there was no choice but to visit our local supermarket.
Now, this isn’t one of those huge, built by the side of a motorway type of supermarkets, but the sort of one that is essentially four times the size of a corner shop. The majority of the staff in there are slightly older ladies, who empathise with both my struggle to remain calm, but, most gratifyingly, with both Midgets’ attempts to do so, but particularly understand The Boy’s issues.
Thus they will always take time to try to distract him if they can see he is getting agitated. These ladies could become child wranglers such is their skill.
They are so decent that they have taken time to find out about his autism, asked me how he should be spoken to, what they can say to him. They go out of their way to make the experience as pleasant as possible for all of us.
They all know of his condition as, when the initial process of diagnosis was started, I would blurt out, with a lot of aggression at the first look I decided was ‘funny’, that he was disabled. I later discovered that these were, in reality, those looks of mixed sympathy and admiration that we all give when we see someone handling a difficult child in a public place, remembering the panic we feel or felt when doing it ourselves.
When I had calmed down and was able to talk about it properly, after I had read and wept copiously over ‘Welcome to Holland‘, when I realised that this was still the same beautiful and maddening little sod he was beforehand (although these are all tales for another day, or another blog), these people were willing to help someone who was receiving very little emotional and practical help, and they wanted to learn and help us.
Which is why I was quite surprised when, whilst queuing at the checkout and The Boy started a (slightly rough but vehemently affectionate) game of kissing with his little sister, the woman behind the checkout regarded me, poe-faced, and asked me “Do you think you should do something about him? He’s really hurting her there you know.”
Fair enough thought I, and as I didn’t think he was being naughty or acting out of turn (I was doing ‘that’ side eye watch, the one that all mothers are taught as we are being stitched up after the birth), I responded, in a voice that I hoped conveyed ‘thank you for your concern, but I rather think it’s none of your fucking business’, with “No, I think they’ll be ok. Midget 2 can give as good as she gets, she knows Midget 1 is disabled, and if she was unhappy with it, she’d soon let me know.”
This should have encouraged her to stop speaking, at least one would have thought so, but apparently her mouth was enjoying itself so much at this point that it wasn’t going to stop, possibly ever.
“Well,” she told me, as she narrowed her eyes and composed her face into the physiognomy of a bulldog chewing a wasp, “I know he’s disabled, you’re always saying, but he looks normal to me and you let him get away with murder. You should watch yourself or social services will be round.”
I gaped at her, open mouthed, for a full two seconds. Both Midgets, as if tuning in to a special extra sensory psychic connection, fell silent and started to behave perfectly. The people behind me in the queue shifted uncomfortably, and an odd hush appeared to descend on the entire supermarket.
There are ways to approach people like this. You can shout and swear at them. You can ignore them. Personally, and this is merely my preference, I like to embarrass them. But I like them to think I have ignored them first, it gives me the element of surprise.
I continued to pack my shopping, and paid the bill. As she gave me the receipt, I grabbed her wrist and looked her straight in the eye.
Now, you may not approve of what I said, but I believe it got the message across clearer than anything else I could have done.
I said to her, still holding her wrist and whilst keeping eye contact; “My son is disabled. Whether or not he is ‘normal’ by your definition I wouldn’t know – I certainly hope not, I wouldn’t want him to be. You look ‘normal’ to me, but you’re clearly not by the way you speak to people. The reason my son acts in a way you don’t consider to be normal is that he has autism – tell me, what’s your excuse?”
With that, I dropped her wrist, gathered the Midgets and sauntered out of the shop.
ASD related conditions are so common now, but some people just don’t want to learn about it. Try not to judge them, in a way it is their disability, and their disability has not enriched the world the way that those diagnosed with autism have.
If your child has a recent diagnosis and you are struggling with other people’s reactions to their behaviour and you do not feel ready to tell them to piss off, the National Autism Society do a great range of t-shirts and badges inscribed with the legend “I’m not naughty, I’ve got autism”
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I never know what to do in those situations. I usually blow up, or just get redfaced and embarassed. If I’d touched her, I probably would’ve punched her.
Props to your awesome use of words and restraint!
Wow, what a bitch
i absolutely love how you handled the situation. had someone done that to my brother, i dont know if i would have had the ability to hold in my temper. kudos.
@P1AutismMom@xanga – Excellent! The squeakius wheelius gets the greasius maximus.
@artworkjanalee@xanga – Remember the scene in Terms of Endearment when the banker rebukes the rude cashier when Emma doesn’t have enough money to pay the bill. It’s a classic, laugh out loud moment and it was done calmly but pointedly leaving it’s mark where shame should now take the place of haughtiness. And I do believe the banker stated he would be making a follow-up call to the manager. Good Call
I feel like grabbing people all the time. Here, you have to do things differently because of the boot-licking, nazi informer, rule enforcer mentality; I have to ask SOMEONE ELSE to call a manager (the co-workers are usually listening anyway) and if I get an attitude from the manager, I keep going up as long as what few minutes I have, as well as asking for a card to fill out. They can claim they’re fresh out, so I get the store number and call/go online with the chain. The problem with this country is that it doesn’t care about it’s children – meaning, people don’t care about other people’s children.
@P1AutismMom – I agree with you. The days of putting your hands on somebody are gone, and it’s pointless, as you say.
Wow, I have nothing but praises for the way you handled that woman.
Unfortunately some people will never get the fact that there are people with invisible disabilities. They also seem to have to get into others faces as if they are the authors of the book about good behaviours.
Although grabbing the person even in frustration could come back to bite you. As this is considered assault and she seem like a person that would do just that. It’s like road rage. I get your frustration and yes I would love to just knock some sense into that person but of course cannot knock sense into somebody that doesn’t have any sense from the get go. I had dealt with some very rude people as well with my service dog and me. Hate when somebody got to get into my face and jump up and down or swing their hands just to see if I am blind or not. I usually laugh in their faces and say boy didn’t know there was a clown in the store I would have brought my nieces with me.
@lifeonacitybusem4@xanga – No, people aren’t permitted to simply speak freely without being corrected. The cashier was way out of line, and while the poster was wrong to grab her wrist, she was completely in the right to say what she had to say.
I as an adult know that I cannot speak freely b/c I know that it’s not appropriate to do so.
When I was out with my daughter, an infant at the time, there were some people who felt they had the freedom to speak nastily about her cleft lip/palate. I looked at them and let them know that my daughter was beautiful inside and out, and that her medical condition could at least be corrected… but that, unfortunately, their ugliness on the inside was something that was not curable.
This is fantastic. My son with Autism is 25. There were actually times when he was small that I thought it would be easier if he was in a wheelchair. Physical disabilities tend to be regarded with compassion. My son threw canned goods…not much compassion in the grocery store.
Holy crap! If someone grabed my wrist I wouldn’t hear a word they said to me, I’d be too busy either 1. planning to report them for assault, or 2. breaking their hand.
Yes, she sounds rude, but that doesn’t allow you to physically touch her in any way. Grabbing her wrist or slapping her across the face are both even more inappropriate than screaming at her.
We all get morally indignant when our family is threatened, but reacting physically is something we should have learned not to do back in grade school. You would have gotten better results if you’d done the mature thing and lodged a complaint with management.
Although I understand your frustration, I think your reaction was highly inappropriate. People should be allowed to speak freely without being corrected.
Way to be strong for your kids. You really sound like an amazing mother.
@P1AutismMom – i agree. your actions were ripe for a lawsuit. but, it was really rude of that woman to make such ignorant comments. sorry about what happened.
KUDOS!
i have been in a few of these situations myself. its very hard to handle them because most of the time i would love to knock some sense into these ppl!!! i think you handled it amazingly! way to go. i have thought about getting my son one of those shirts for when we are out like at the zoo or such.
@artworkjanalee@xanga – I live in California where everyone has a lawyer and would have had a huge lawsuit coming my way. Ignore, disengage and walk away. You can’t educate someone who is that spiteful. There is no open heart there, only a closed mind.
SCORE
She’s a goose-stepping nazi informer type. I have to deal with that type every day. Here in Seattle, if I’d grabbed her hand, they would have called the police and arrested me. This is actually a police state here.
Excellent answer! 🙂 I never know what to do in those situations…. I tend to either blow up or just turn beet red in embarrassment.
I said something similar once. I used to have a Hearing Dog that went everywhere with me. Once I was in Walmart and a snotty little teenager said “Dogs aren’t allowed in here!” despite the fact that my dog was wearing a vest and was very obviously a service dog… I said “She is a service dog”. She said in a doubtful tone, “A service dog?” I said “Yes, there are dogs for disabilities other than blindness”. She said “Well, you don’t LOOK disabled to me.” I said “Well, you didn’t look stupid to me, but I guess looks can be quite deceiving, no?” And walked off.
It’s so hard to believe that people are really that ignorant. I think you handled it perfectly.
i hope she felt like a jackass.
Oh god, i love this post. GREAT way to handle the situation, if that happened to my little brother, despite my reputation for being so hot tempered, I would’ve landed a punch right in the face, and walked out calmly.
I should buy the T Shirt. 🙂 I will harass my mom later on to buy one for my brother. Thanks for the link and the post.