It’s always a challenge trying to police The Loudon out in public, with his very spirited self, even when it’s just the two of us, but Ronan had a half-day today, so we all decided to go to the playground together.
I am whipping my head back and forth between the two boys at a very busy park. They inevitably want to do the opposite – Loudon is at one end, pushing a big truck into unsuspecting ankles, and Ronan is climbing up a structure 500 feet away, unaware of toddlers trying to avoid being crushed by his 60 lb. boy body flying up and over them.
Ronan gets to the top and spies a firefighter pole. He is fascinated with watching kids slide down this. I think partly because he is still a little too afraid to try it himself, and somewhat due to the fact that he is eye-stimming with the movement – he’s always loved a descending object!
Anyway, he is doing an incredible job of using his words, asking kids in his “loud” voice if they can slide down it for him.
“KIDS! Can you slide down this!?”
No response from the children running by.
“KIDS! Can you slide down!?”
One girl says “no”.
Ronan tries another.
“KIDS! Can you please slide down this thing?!”
The girl running by doesn’t answer, so he tugs at her shirtsleeve.
Not in a menacing way, just in a “can I get your attention kind of way”.
I yell up, “Ronan. Hands to yourself. Use your words please, and if you need help, ask Mom”.
The father of this child then screams, “KATRINA! GET AWAY FROM THAT BOY NOW!!!!!”
Hmm. Okay, I see the other side. I’m open to other people’s feelings. Please, hands off my kid, yeah I get that, but is this screeching really necessary? I mean, Ronan doesn’t have an Uzi or anything. He is six.
Mean Dad shoots me a look to kill, and I contemplate telling him the “autism” story. Then, I see the frost in his eyes, and I say, “Screw Mean Daddy – unsympathetic bastard.” I say nothing instead and just picture lightning bolts shooting from the sky into his pea brain and down through to his hooves.
Two minutes later, I am instructing Loudon in the potential harm of bringing a dump truck up the slide stairs, which of course, ensues in a major tantrum. Don’t mess with The Loudon. He lashes out at anything around when he’s pissed, and what happens to be around is the little sister of Ronan’s shirtsleeve girl – Mean Daddy’s other daughter!! Loudon SMACKS at her!
This sends Mean Daddy into a tizzy! But we are out of the playground in a flash – a sly half-smile on my fleeing face.
Karma, baby, Karma – it’s a bitch.
**Note, no little sisters were hurt in this Karmic display. I would never really wish harm on an innocent child – maybe just a little graze on her Mean Daddy, though, would be okay**
MAMI AUTISM 