REtard in the car

Last Sunday was quite an active day; the first part involved driving my friend Jim to the hospital one or two towns over (the one he prefers).  He’d fallen down wooden staircase at 2 a.m., and there was quite a lot of blood, pain, confusions and contusions.  He refused to go to the hospital then (2a.m.)  I stayed awake for an hour or two, worried.   Then I gave up, went to bed.

The hall between the upstairs bathroom and the stairs is narrow-0ne step to the right, you can pee or brush teeth or shower.  One miss step to the left, and you can go crashing down.  He was not drunk, drugged or anything else, except exhausted from a 10 hour shift, where the work is pretty hard, and the help is not always very good.  He got up, and wandered off a bit too the left and I awoke to the sickening sound of flesh/bone impacting against stairs, over and over.  It’s a sound I’ve heard before, and nobody likes that sound.

Anyway, he finally asked me to take him around 9 or 10 a.m.    Spent a good deal of the day there, and then I rushed home to take Kiddo (special young adult daughter) to her ‘treat day’ where she can go shopping, or eat what she wants (you know, fattening, artery clogging stuff, usually).

We explored the stuff at Malwart, and some other places; then she asked for a shake from Dunkin Donuts.  Ok, drove there, but the shake/coolatta machine was broken.  We drove over to McDonalds, (fine dining,  don’t you know)   Over the last 10 years plus of living in this town, my kids have spent some cash there.  Even when Kiddo was on ‘paleo’ she wanted their bacon ranch salad, with grilled chicken quite a few times.  Earlier years, right after my husband died, and I didn’t feel up to creating dinner, I would buy  the same salad from them.   I don’t like their food.  (well, recently I got a lobster roll there, and it was good especially for the price)

Anyway, Kiddo has always been treated kindly by the kids and young adults who are cashiers and servers there.  Some know her from high school and greet her cheerily. Some are just nice kids, and treat her kindly.     That day, there was an adult from the kitchen, goofing off at the window.   He was not a server, he was about my age, and he was being funny.   He then looked at Kiddo, then at me, and made a remark about ‘the retard in the car’.

We took her order from the window; don’t know if she heard that shithead’s remark.  I waited a while, and drove back to McD.       I talked to the manager, explained how kindly folks had been to her all of these years, and let her know about the creep’s remark.   She is a pleasant young woman, and reacted to what I said (yes, I was calm, not mad, not vindictive)   with what they are told in the manager book of instructions =  she said ‘sure!  Un huh! Yes! Right!’    Pretty sure she did nothing.

I don’t want that guy to lose his job; he needs it.   He is my age, he isn’t on a career path.

What I wanted to say to that sweet young manager was this;  REtards have consumer power. Retards have money.  Retards go to places they like and feel welcome.

I didn’t say it though.  I tried to keep it simple, for a young lady’s perspective.

Went home, got on the McD’s website;  I wrote a brief letter.  My desktop is very old, it froze when I tried to send it.  I don’t know if they received it or not.

This place is in my town.   We wont go there again. They lost 2 customers that day.  I don’t know if she heard him, but it’s been a week, and she hasn’t asked to go there at all.
















dont patronize me….do YOUR job

Today I had an interesting conversation with the woman who is the supervisor of the case manager of the organization that works with my special needs kid.

I know she is relatively new to the position. I know she doesn’t really have any idea yet, how to help me or kiddo, as far as information about adult special needs services, or the differences between chapter 28, 29 and 17, and which would best serve my adult child.
She is very nice. Friendly. Tries to be sympathetic, but usually comes off as patronizing. (‘weellll, that’s how teenager act, ….’ oh, really? ) Thanks alot, Einstein!

Teenagers, (typical ones) usually cant wait to get out of the house and see their friends. Teenagers dont sit in their rooms and play with legos, read Dora the Explorer, cut out coupons obsessively, shred their clothing, and chew their toe nails and finger nails til they bleed. Teenagers, by age 18 years can drive to their friends. Teenagers have plans, usually big plans, that involve leaving home. Non typical teens? Not so much.
Oh, yes, typical teens usually have friends to visit. Special teens have friends, but it isn’t the same thing at all.

Typical teenagers dont expect their moms to wipe their butts, tie their shoes, serve them coffee (well, maybe on that one) or a host of other things. Typical teens dont need to be monitored for safety reasons (yes, yes, I know, typical teens DO need to be montitored….just not as much, and not as intensely)

Typical teens dont throw tantrums like a 3 year old; not at home, screaming constantly, yelling at the tops of their lungs, throwing things around, and this isn’t just a ‘home’ behavior, it also happens at the store, when the ‘non typical’ teen doesn’t get her way, or is tired, or is unhappy. Sorry! Dont patronize me, and tell me my kid has all the ‘typical’ behavior of a teen. I can seperate the two types of behaviors, and I really dont need someone who is clueless about special population patronizing me.
Dont suggest for me to take her on a ‘field trip’ Huh? GMAFB!! Shop for school clothes? Thanks for the bulletin! If a typical teen can drive, they can (and do) drive to the mall and buy overpriced clothing by themselves. My goal is to prepare this kid to live elsewhere. Not yet, but in the future. You dont need to advise me on what I ‘should’ do with my special teen.

I dont need your advice about child rearing. You need to focus on learning YOUR job, then doing it! (haven’t seen jackshit yet) and stop telling me about MY JOB.


It’s another beautiful day here in vacationland; think it’s not going to be too hot or humid, with a chance of some afternoon showers.
Today’s the day! Kiddo has a few hours with her behavioral worker, a lady who shows her how to behave socially in the community, how to figure out a budget (heck, maybe I should go along with them) how to do various everyday things that she’ll need to know for the future.
Then, a week of overnight camp, I’m so blessed! When she returns from her time spent with her worker, we’ll take a stroll, and then, drive to camp! Hurrah!
Yes, I love her dearly. Yes, I enjoy (mostly) the time we share. It’s summer vacation here in kidville….I need a bit of breathing space, and break from being on call, from being the (1) activity director (2) supervisor (3)butt wipe (4)shoe tie servant, and any number of other stuff I do on a regular basis.
Does she know how to do some chores? Yes. Lots of times, it’s easier to just get it done by myself, instead of being a job coach and stand and instruct, repeatedly. Then, there is always the arguing about getting something done. That’s any teen, but with kiddo it is times 100.
She’s improved in her behavior and has matured alot in last few years. She still is a 3 or 4 year old in many ways, but in some ways, she reminds me of an ‘almost typical’ teen.
I wont be inactive when she is having fun at camp. There is stuff to do, (plenty!) and appointments to keep. I just have a real hankering to be left alone for a while. No conversations, no arguments, no discussions, no answering questions with obvious answers (her way of chatting,and being reassured, I think).
Arlo the parrot, also is restless this morning, probably picked it up from me. He’s demanded buttered toast, yelled at the squirrels outdoors, asked to go out, demanded eggs, and asked for ‘bobbity’. Yes, he got the eggs, and I’m all out of the ‘bobbity’, which is a grain, vegetable mix I make. Gave him some other stuff too, but he isn’t satisfied yet. He went outdoors, and I can hear him yelling ‘your ears are wierd!’ and ‘stop that!’you are a wienerd!’ (he made that up himself; he used to love to eat little bites of wieners, when I’d feed them to the kids when they were little. He’d ask repeatedly for wieners…Finally, we began to tell him that he WAS a wiener. Then, he coined the phrase ‘you’re a wie-nerd!’)
I hope you all have a good day; it’s time to pack up for camp.