Sunday, September 11, 2011

It's getting personal.

My weekend started out in the usual weekend fashion: with a huge list of things to do (read: a list of things I had been avoiding all week) and a birthday party for one of Monkey's classmates. As it turns out, my darling Monkey was not in a partying mood or at least not in the mood to attend a party in someone else's honor. He may or may not have refused to play with any other kids, refused to wait his turn at every game, refused to sing happy birthday to the birthday boy and instead sang happy birthday to himself, had a full-on meltdown when I tried to encourage him to play with another little boy, disrupted the opening of gifts and snagged food & drinks from at least 3 people. I may or may not have been completely mortified and ready to leave the party after 20 minutes, but I persevered as long as possible (read: 40 minutes).

When things got really rough, I sought out birthday boy's mom to make a face-saving quick apology & exit. She happened to be talking to another mom, that I have since taken to thinking of "InappropriateQuestionMom". I waited for an opening and politely acknowledged that my kid was acting like a banshee 3 year old and that it was time for us to leave. Birthday boy's mom (who happened to know that I have been having some concerns about Monkey's social development) kindly said that they all have those sort of days and not to worry about it. I told her I appreciated her saying that, that I was hoping that Monkey would want to interact a bit more, etc. and then InappropriateQuestionMom opened her d*mn mouth and asked the worst possible questions that you can ask a complete stranger in that given situation: "Have you gotten a diagnosis yet?"

In retrospect, I have thought up at least a dozen responses that would have been better than the way I responded. I think I have it narrowed down to "Yes, the diagnosis is that YOU are an idiot!" or "The diagnosis is that he is three years old and the treatment is to avoid b*tches like you." Sadly, I did not respond with snark, wit or even outrage. I cried like a sissy little girl. How's that for MommaBear tough? (I better get my sh*t together before he gets out of preschool or I am really going to be a mess.) This stupid, inconsiderate woman who has seen my child once (on a bad day, no less) managed to rip a hole in me, letting my anxiety & emotion boil over. Mommy Fail. 

The things is, I really don't care that this twit thinks it was her place to insinuate that my son has something that warrants a diagnosis. I don't care that I shed tears in front of people that are nearly strangers. (OK, maybe I do care about that, but only a little.) What I care about is that IF my darling Monkey does have a developmental delay or any other challenge to overcome, that this is what he will have to deal with. Rude, nosy and judgmental people that will assume that because he is boisterous, independent or just having a rough day, that there must be something wrong with him. That I should rush him off to a doctor for a diagnosis, therapy and/or drugs to "fix" him.

Maybe I'm over-reacting. Maybe my mommy anxiety is getting the better of me. Maybe (definitely) I'm emotional, but I don't think that anything is gained by inferring to a complete stranger that something is "wrong" with her kid, no matter what your intentions are. I'll freely admit that judgement is a part of motherhood, but so is teaching your children tolerance and inclusion. How are you going to teach your children to see everyone as equal when you spend your time judging children for acting like, *gasp*, children?

I doubt I'm the first mom to encounter an idiot like InappropriateQuestionMom and I probably won't be the last, but I hope the next idiot is prepared because tears won't be the only thing flying. That is, if we get invited to any more birthday parties. (Sorry about that, Monkey.)

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Let's take a step back, shall we?

I'm a mom. Chances are you are a mom. Or a dad. Or a mom-to-be. Or you enjoy reading snarky mommy rants and laughing at how much cooler your life is than mine. Whatever, you're probably on the same level as me and hopefully you are on the same level of inebriation sleep deprivation, so that this post actually makes sense. So, let me ask you a question: What in the holy heck is with the play-by-play potty training updates? SERIOUSLY. The only thing I want to know about your kid's potty training is when you are going to be done so you can come over to my house and teach my kid. I'll even begrudge you an uppity "I never have to change another sh*tty diaper" status post, and that is only because I can harass you with a "Good luck getting him/her to wipe his/her own ass" comment and giggle to myself at the light bulb going off in your head.

You think you are showing off, but the thing is roughly 1% of your friend list is actually impressed. That 1% includes your parents, in-laws and other relatives that have no business being on facebook and they didn't need a status update because you sent them 7 pictures of your precious pooper sitting on the potty! Trust me, the 75% of your friends (we are using that term liberally) that do not have kids think you have lost your damn mind & the 24% that have kids think you are a braggadocios prick. Do you know what your childless, unmarried friends think when they see your "Mary Grace pooped in the potty twice today! She is SUCH a big girl!" facebook status? Answer: They are determining how exactly to unfriend you or block you from their news feed on the ever changing beast that is facebook. And those are the people you want to stay friends with, if you ever plan on attending a social function without the Wiggles soundtrack playing in the background.

So do as all a favor and keep that bit of maternal/paternal pride to yourself, please. Seriously, I'm a parent and I don't even give a sh*t (pun intended).