Does bullying parepare you for parenting a special needs child?

Thinking of the bullying incident with the band teacher and a parent-interaction I had this weekend had me thinking...what prepares someone for being a parent of a special-needs child?

How does bullying and being a parent even relate?  Here is how it can:

While I was waiting for dance class to be over, with a 5" binder of papers, a stack of print outs, and an Educational Book in front of me, a father approached me and asked if I was an Occupational Therapist.  I said no, but I'm a parent of a son who has Occupational Therapy and I'm preparing for his upcoming IEP where I am going to try to get him more OT, so I'm learning all I can to prepare.  He started to share with me his son's similar situation and some of his own struggles.

The thing that struck a chord was that he looked at me very sad and said something along the lines of: "Sometimes I'm so embarrassed by my kid and I hate that.  When we are out in public and he does stuff he can't control, I hate it and I'm mad at him, only because it embarrasses me."

I was sympathetic because  I've been there.  Right now I'm not there.  Right now I'm not afraid of what other people think but that's not to say that I won't ever experience that feeling again.  Somehow I got over the fear of what 'other people' will think when I have my 6 year old sitting on my lap in a restaurant and I'm feeding him, or other a-typical things that it is so easy for people to be judgemental about.

I was thinking...how did I get over this fear?  It could be a lot of things...good things I have experienced and bad things too.  Hence...bullying.

Could my confidence of supporting my child in difficult public situations come from the past bullying experiences I've had with the Angelas, Janes, Katies, Amys, Mollys, or Nicoles?  Could it be that through grammar school, and high school, even through college I had to learn to keep continuing on even though people will try to be mean and pass judgement?

It could be that my confidence comes from my huge support system of people that love me.  It could be from my family and friends who tell me and more importantly, show me that they love me unconditionally and that I will always have a place in their lives without fear of ridicule or criticism.

Could it have been by luck in the extra-curricular activities I participated in when growing up?  The theater and music, forcing to put myself out there, not sure if the audience will like it or not, but needing self-esteem to give it a try and be happy with my own performance?  The girl scouts that showed me that I can be me, brave, friendly and resourceful?

Is it that at one point when I was feeling fearful of what 'other people' thought...that Wonderful Husband reminded me that we wanted our eldest so bad, that when I was newly pregnant with him and the doctor found something that needed some 'further looking into' during an ultrasound that both he and I agreed that we wanted this child and will love this child no matter who he is, or what struggles he may have?

It could be from all of the above.  Or a combination of it.  Or this and more.

Whatever it is, to be a parent of a special-needs child, you need to have confidence, self-esteem, patience, and a lot of love from a good support system.  If I was asked to describe myself, I wouldn't think of naming confidence, self-esteem and patience...not in the least.  But looking at it from an outsider's perspective, I probably do have those things.  I know I have love in my life, and with that fuel of love and support, I can keep going forward and do what I need to do to support my wonderful kid, without worrying about those theoretic 'other people' might think.

Bullying

There is a large movement now for anti-bullying.  I approve of this.  In lunch this week with some friends, one was telling of the importance of a bystander in stopping bullying.  Not much has to be done by the bystander, except maybe saying stop.

There was once a situation where I was a kid, and an adult was bullying a kid.  I stood up for the kid against the adult.  All I remember is that it was a reflex, how it was intimidating, but how proud of myself I felt and I'll share why.

In 8th grade I was in band.  We had this band director who was phenomenal at his craft and was an award winning band director at an all-boys high school.  Why this man, with an enormous temper, ever wanted to teach young kids how to play an instrument is probably the question someone should have asked, because it was really not a good match.

One day, a 5th grader had to leave band practice to go to the orthodontist.  In front of everyone, the band director started yelling at her, saying how she was a terrible saxophone player, leaving would just make her worse, and how she probably shouldn't even be in the band.  You may read this and be appalled.  This was not an uncommon experience with this guy, but then again, there wasn't a formal bullying awareness and anti-bullying program in the 80s.

Since I was in 8th grade, our job was to pack up the chairs after band practice.  While I was doing that, the 5th grader's mom came into the class room and started giving the band director a piece of her mind on what her daughter reported back.  She really let him have it.  His response "I never said that."

I'm not sure what came over me but I piped in with: "Yes you did."

I wasn't a part of the conversation, I was merely a bystander in the same room.  Maybe the part that made it come out of my mouth is that I was standing there in my catholic grammar school, where we were taught...don't tell lies.  And he just did.  Maybe it was that I didn't like him that much, and I wasn't going to let him get away with this.

I don't recall what happened next, except for that when she left, the band director turned to me and asked "Why did you say that?"  My response: "Because you DID say that."  I do remember the conversation ended right there.  I think just sticking to the facts made there no further argument, how could he deny it or argue more?

I'm sure my blood pressure was high and I was nervous about getting in trouble with an adult, etc etc.  But shortly after that, my mom said she got a call from that 5th grader's mom saying how happy she was that I stuck up for her daughter like that.  I do remember my mom telling me how proud she was of me.

Being the type-A personality that I am, there are many things that I replay in my head and 99% of the time, they are negative: that I should have something different, things I did I'm now embarrassed about, or something I did or said that I shouldn't have at all.

After 23 years from this incident happening, it will replay sometimes in my head...and I still feel that strong sense of empowerment in my chest, joy of how proud my mom was of me, and an overall good feeling of who I am for standing up and doing the right thing.

Your loss is my gain

The kids got lots of Valentine's candy yesterday, though to my disappointment, not as much as last year.  Last year the volume of sweets were comparable to the quantity they collect at Halloween.  Oh well, its for the better...as it is coming up on those 'few short weeks' before we leave for Florida...and when I have to fit into my shorts again.  I really really don't want to have to wear sundresses all through Disney.

Today I loaded some things into the back of my minivan...and there it was.  A little shiny gold gem, overlooked by an unfortunate little girl, falling into the abyss of the side of her seat but into the great wide open of the trunk...a Reese's Peanut Butter cup!

It was still wrapped!  It was new!  It wasn't melted!  It was MINE!

Oh how candy goes so well with coffee...and while I popped it into my mouth and hid the evidence of the wrapper under garbage in the wastebasket, in my head I thanked my little girl for sharing with me...even if she didn't mean to.

Happy Valentine's Day

Today is a lot of fun - I made a heart shaped sandwich for the eldest, sent all the kids off with Valentine's goodies, and have heard a lot of love songs on the radio.

There were plenty of years though I felt left out of Valentine's Day because I didn't have a boyfriend, or I had a broken heart.  At the end of Two and A Half Men, the producer has a whole screen full of text, last night, Wonderful Husband and I paused and read it.  It had to do with the heart being able to feel, to break, to swim.  It is amazing how this organ can actually feel love, and loss.

Today I'm happy to report, that my heart is so full of love for my husband.  I don't know how I ended up here with him, but what I do know is that I am happy that I did.  So many other wonderful men who I have known I don't think would have been close to the great match for me that he has been.

We watched 'The Adjustment Bureau' together this year and I wonder if they are on to something with God having a plan in place for who we are supposed to end up with.  I feel like this ideal match is what I have with Wonderful Husband.  Sometimes I feel like its too good to be true...and I hope it continues, or even gets better and never stops being wonderful.

Lots of couples who are role models in my life seem to have the same partnership, chemistry, and connection.  I am happy to have them in our lives and showing Wonderful Husband the promise of living together in love.  I wish everyone could have this feeling...there is nothing like it in the world to have your heart full of happiness and love.

Misery Loves Company

I think my mom is cute.  I love her.  She wrote this message to her family, who lives in Ft. Lauderdale.  We live in Chicago.

I thought her note was super cute, so I'm going to share what she wrote.  I think Forbes is wrong.

"Forbes: Chicago is No.6 in Misery

Forbes listed Chicago as the nations 6th most miserable city. Guess what city is No. 7 Ft. Lauderdale! (Chicago Tribune Sat Feb 4)

Now I can see why we are miserable, but I can't see how Paradise (Ft. Lauderdale) is right behind us. Go figure, the two cities of my life and they are on the most miserable list."

Lady Elaine Fairchilde

Today I realized my daily work at home ritual is a lot like Mr. Rogers.  I laughed...sang the song...and then cringed and was really ashamed of myself.

Why did I think this?  Well...I came home from dropping the kids off, walked in the door, hung up my coat, put on a sweater cardigan, then checked the mail.  When I realized this, I laughed...sang the song to myself as I picked up the newspaper outside, and then cringed...felt yucky and wanted to take a shower.

Lady Elaine was my least favorite character on the show.  Her voice was scary, she was kind of ugly & she was always angry.  Because of her, all I remember about the 'beloved' children's show is that I absolutely hated it.

When I looked up the characters, searching for this despised puppet...I found this description of her:
Lady Elaine is the curator of the Museum-Go-Round, a revolving building containing collections of everything from A - Z. This mischief-making impish woman is always getting into one thing or another, but that's often because she worries that she's not very lovable and needs attention. As an outspoken, opinionated character, she is generally the only one in Make-Believe who stands up to the King whenever he has made an unreasonable demand. And she often brings a lot of humor to Make-Believe.

Really, Lady Elaine was an ugly character because she had a low-self esteem & worried about getting people's attention & love? I think this description of her was nice, as I never, and still don't think she brought any humor to Make-Believe land.

Then, I found she has a facebook page!  This is what the creator said about her, which I believe to be much more accurate, but I don't agree that she was 'awesome':
Sure, she was a total bitch, appeared to have a drinking problem, and was quite possibly a drag queen, but that's what added to her awesomeness.

I think this may be the core of my dislike for this puppet...I don't think I could figure out if she was a woman or a man, rightfully so - this is very confusing for a child.

All I am sure of is that Monday, when I come home from dropping the kids off...you bet I'm going to change up my routine so I'm not like Fred Rogers anymore...good bye stupid cardigan!

One year ago...the 2011 Blizzard and the introduction of my niece

The birth of children are the most crisp memories in my head.  I always think as I experience life, that there will be something so neat or awe-inspiring that I will never forget that moment...but then I do.  The one difference is the day of the birth of my children and nieces and nephews.  I can remember everything about those days...where I was, what I was doing, who I was with, what I was wearing, what the weather was like, and even what I was eating.

It's in the news how the spring like weather we have this week is in stark contrast to where we were last year.  Today was the start of the 2011 Chicago Blizzard that dropped feet of snow upon our city, and the introduction of my wonderful niece and goddaughter.

What I remember about the day she was born (which is officially tomorrow...but it started today):

My middle sister went to the hospital to be induced...I came down with the case of the giggles in eager anticipation of meeting her new daughter.

When I got out of bed, I realized my throat was sore & was in partial denial from disappointment when I took a look and saw white spots.

I dropped the kids off at daycare, came home to work (no one was going downtown today), and called the doctor for an appointment.  I figured I need to get on top of it, since things may be closed from the blizzard tomorrow (it would be just my luck).

Around 3:00 I got into the doctors office, they were unconvinced at first I had strep, but sure enough...did.  This is when the snow starting to come down, I filled the prescription in the lobby pharmacy at my doctor's office.  It took me about 30 minutes to drive 5 miles home.

Then, the snow kept falling, and falling, and falling, and falling, and falling.  All night, I either kept texting my sister or my mom, who was camping in the maternity ward lobby with my dad and my sister's in laws.

Then, in the middle of the night, actually tomorrow...she was born!  She was here!  It was my dad who called & sent a text picture.  We were all super excited, and I remember, my parents had to shovel their cars out of the parking lot and drive home.  My mom told me they were driving in practically the middle of the 6 lane streets because the snow drifts were so high on the sides.

The day of her birthday the town was silent with nothing but the noise of kids and snowblowers.  There were no cars on the streets and the snow magically muffles the sounds of city life.  Kids were up & down the street with sleds, while parents were shoveling and snow blowing.  My family was inside in their pjs...I had strep throat.  Luckily, the kids didn't know what they were missing, but I remember looking out the front window kind of sad and guilty.  Guilty from knowing my kids weren't outside and guilty from knowing I couldn't be at the hospital for my sister.  The hospital's gift shop was even closed...so I couldn't even send flowers or balloons or anything...everything in the town was shut down.

Two days after she was born, the kids went outside & were shocked to see the snow up to their arm pits.  I was finally able to get out, but was still in quarantine from my niece.  It made me really sad that I couldn't go up to the hospital to see her and my sister.  Especially since with all my stays in the hospital, my sister would always come and visit, delivering some type of goodie for me.

It was 3 or 4 days after, on a Saturday or Sunday that I was finally able to drop off the flowers, balloons and treat for my sister, who was living with her in laws.  They had a snowman decorated all girly with a 'Welcome' sign for the baby.  And I saw her...man, she was cute.  She had this dark spikey hair...at one, she still does.

I love these memories.  And while they are vivid in my head now, I really don't want to forget them.  Which is why on the anniversary of these kids' births, I like to re-live in my head that day and the joy of new life that fills my heart.  It never fails; every time someone special to my heart goes into labor, I giggle, get teary, and giggle some more...it's the best feeling in the world, and maybe that is why I remember these special days so fondly.