Watch out, she’s angry.
October 4, 2006Last weekend we went to Ikea, because we hate ourselves and like to ruin our weekends. We put Henry in the playroom, where he romped and hid in giant shoes (there are giant shoes) and apparently he watched a movie in which a cook whipped a little girl. This is what the Ikeans show our children. And that’s not even what I’m mad about.
So when we were done remembering why we hate going to Ikea, Scott went to see if the chair we were going to purchase would fit in our car (it wouldn’t) while I picked up Henry. It was by now lunchtime and Henry, crazed by the ball pit and the (animated) whipping of youngsters, worked himself up into a froth about how hungry he was, how very very hungry. So I dragged him to the café.
My brain kept telling me not to do this. “Go to the car,” it said. “No café. He’s too hungry. Get him home and give him the same damn thing he always eats. He’s not going to like it in there. Hellooo. Am I talking to myself, over here?”
Yes! Because we were already in the café, and Henry was already having a meltdown.
We were on line, and Henry was in a puddle around my feet, shrieking, for no apparent reason. Or for these reasons: because there were so many, many balls, and was that his new home, maybe? With the oversized clogs? But no, now he was in this loud bustling place with all the clattering of the silverware and he was hungry NOW but wanted to go home NOW and CAN’T. DO BOTH. ERROR. ERROR.
So while he was shorting out beneath me, the two women in front of me did the very best thing any human beings can do, and this is the subject of this post, so pay attention!
They turned around, and laughed in his face.
One of them shrieked, “DON’T BE SAD, PRETTY BOY! WHATSAMATTA?”
Henry turned absolutely white with terror and began climbing me, using his talon-like nails. I tried to pick him up, but then he went boneless again and sobbed against my ankles.
“He’s having a rough time, so if you could--” I started, motioning at her to turn around.
One of them bent over to thrust her horrific visage into his. “GIVE ME A SMILE!” she suggested.
“Leave me alone!” Henry shouted, with tears streaming down his face. And they both laughed again. One of them continued to provide helpful suggestions to him (“ISN’T SMILING BETTER THAN SILLY CRYING? YOU CAN’T BE SAD ON THIS BEAUTIFUL DAY!”) while I dragged Henry out of the line and away and he shouted preschooler invective at them. (I believe he called them both poopyhead. I’d say he had a point.)
So, okay, an isolated incident, maybe? Two assholes bitter that their Swedish meatballs and lingonberry sauce were taking too long, seeking revenge on the youth of today?
But no! Because! Just two days later, at the playground, it happened again.
Henry was having a hard time making inroads with the other children, all of whom paired off according to some mysterious, prearranged order. Then he spotted a group of older kids. They were either eight or 21. Probably somewhere in the middle. They were sitting at the top of a slide, drinking soda and chewing gum, feeling dangerous. Henry was entranced. Before I could stop him, he was right there, standing outside their circle. I watched. Sometimes older kids are nice! Maybe!
The ignoring that ensued was brief but painful, as Henry repeatedly attempted to introduce himself and I considered tearing their lungs out through their mouths. Too much?
After he walked away from them, he looked over at me and started to cry.
“No one wants to know my name,” he called out, weeping. And two women standing right by him—c’mon, guess!
Guess!
They didn’t just laugh—they laughed their asses off. They thought that was the funniest damn thing they ever heard. Such a cute little kid! So clever! With the stringing the words together! Just like a person!
Which of course set him off even more. The two of them tried to direct more commentary at me about my funny kid with his funny feelings while I dealt with my son, who was dissolving completely into the soil.
This happens to us not infrequently, and I’m sure we’re not the only people. I mean, yes, sometimes Henry can be jollied out of a funk, and sometimes strangers do that with remarkable aplomb, but this is not that. This is not a sympathetic smile or comment, it’s mockery. It’s insensitive to the point of being cruel.
At the very least, these people should figure out that their charm is not having the desired effect, and at the most, shouldn’t they respect someone’s feelings? If you saw an adult crying in public, would you point and laugh? Don’t preschoolers deserve the same courtesy?
What on earth is wrong with people?
Reader Comments (111)
And what's sad about that is kids then grow up thinking emotions are bad and are not able identify when they're mad, sad, or even glad. And the therapy fees... oh my.
What would not make you as a parent NOT want to throw battery acid on someone's face? Really, I myself don't want to come off as a moron.
Like should you just flash the kid a kind but quiet smile that says: I feel for you kid.
Other ideas?
My daughter is 19mo old and it absolutely breaks my heart to think that some people don't see her as a person, with legitimate feelings and fears and needs. WTF is wrong with people? I swear if ever a day comes that someone acts like that when Cadence is having a meltdown, I will look them square in the eye and either tell them to piss off or say, "is that appropriate? Would you like someone to act like that to YOU if YOU were having a breakdown?"
And the kids at the playground? I'm seething. Sure, Henry will have to understand that big kids don't always like to play with little kids, and that sometimes kids are mean, but the ADULTS should never mock him. Poor little guy. Many virtual hugs for you and Henry, from this lurker who's come out of hiding.
Poopyheads, indeed.
Damn. My bad, Alice.
People suck. The end.
I wish I was a dog.
(hugs to you and henry, that's just so not right...)
For older kids, like Henry, just give the kid or the parent a sympathetic look.
Sometimes it seems as though if you ignore a kid on a playground/grocery store/IKEA cafeteria having a fit, you're insensitive and if you say anything (or even express any acknowlegement that your eardrums are being pierced by the screaming) you're an a$$hole.
Poor Henry. Hang in there.
I have been known to try to cheer up a melting a child in the grocery line or at the park. But, yeah, if you're a normal non-autistic human, you follow the cues of both the kid and the kid's parent and WITHDRAW if you're making it worse.
Is it possible that everyone around where you live has Asperger's Syndrome? No? Then they're just assholes, I guess.
It's a rare person that can seem safe, happy, jolly, and nonthreatening enough that they actually make things better when they enter into someone else's kid situation.
And most people are NOT that person. Old people -- well meaning, SOMETIMES -- can often be the worst for thinking, "Oh, Silly Parent. I can fix this." without realizing that a) they don't know the child, and b) their children may be messed up by how they "fixed" things.
The only time I've ever interceded was to offer to help a mom who had a baby, a three year old having a meltdown, and a kindergarten-age kid pulling things off the shelves. And I didn't mock the kids or speak to them, I just said, "Can I help with anything?" since I had no appendages and no babies with me. She actually got me to help her kindergarten age kid put things back on shelves, and we made a game of it. I wouldn't normally do that (I don't want to disrespect how someone is handling something) -- but she was making the "OH PLEASE HELP ME" face.
I think you definitely handled both things gracefully, so kudos to you.
if my almost 4 year old says something that is so cute and mature for his age, occasionally we can't help but laugh, but kids are very sensitive and perceptive at that age and even though we are not laughing at him, he gets a little upset and I have to explain its because he is just so cute and it makes us happy.
I'm so sorry that your son had to go through that, as a rule I think people should just mind their own business in those situations!
That has to be the most ridiculous thing I have EVER heard. If it weren't true. Really. I've had family do this to my little one. Family.
Tell me about it. Makes me shriek.
If it were me, I would want to try to:1. help him regulate his current mood2. help him be more resilient in the face of mean people in the future, and (if I was really feeling on my game)3. maybe even help the nasty people think twice next time.
As an adoptive parent of a multiracial family, I deal frequently with the scrutiny my kids get in the grocery store, etc. One thing that helps when you notice a recurring problem is to have a pre-arranged code word to use when your kid is feeling uncomfortable with the attention. It can be some goofy word that only you and your chid will understand, but that will be a way for you and your child to acknowledge to each other that, yes, here is another nosy person who doesn't understand about personal boundaries.
Your little guy may be too young to understand such a game, but maybe it would be something to keep in mind for the future...? It can be really stabilizing to the child to have a private joke between the two of you. (And if that is disconcerting to the rude stranger, all the better!)
The cafe situation may have been unsalvageable anyway, with him being overstimulated and all. However I know I usually have the best luck helping my kid mellow out if I am (or at least fake being!) mellow myself. Be sympathetic to your child's feelings, but kinda shrug at the bad behavior of the stranger and model a casual attutude of 'ah well, some people don't know how to act.' Then move on. When I make a federal case out of something, my kids will overreact even more next time.
I'll shut up now. Hope at least a bit of that helps...
Mary, mom to about a gazillion kids