- How utterly boring it was to be doing this for my, dare I say it, normal kid. I didn't have to worry about all the routines, sensory breaks, food aversions, noise levels, bright lights, and all the fallout if something went wrong. I could sit back and act like a normal mom. Weird.
- The mom's who currently have boys in Alex's class who also have siblings in Lizzy's class. They ignored me. Like, they walked a circle around me, sat down at another table and then begrudgingly said "Hi." Making sure all the chairs at their table were full--just to be sure I wouldn't join them. You see, last year they all caught on pretty quick that Alex was different. These moms spread the word like wildfire that my little boy was "special" and needed extra help. They all have normal/neuro-typical boys and they act as if what Alex has is contagious. I've gotten over the fact that these women are excluding me. I've not gotten over how it affects my son. I don't think I ever will.
- The other thing I noticed was another mom. She was sitting by herself, legs crossed, furiously bouncing them under the table. She'd alternate between bouncing her legs and tapping her pen on the table. She was nervous. Like, way nervous. I kept watching her. Something about her bugged me. It took me until almost the end of the evening. And then it dawned on me---she was what I would have been last year if I had gone to this meeting. She was me. Her child has special needs. She was alone and silently freaking out.
So I did the only thing I knew to do. I walked up to her after the meeting and said, "Hi, my name is Lizbeth..."
Her son has Sensory Processing Disorder and is being evaluated for Asperger's and PDD/NOS.
|I'm so excited, we're getting warmer weather! |
Snowman, your days are numbered...