My 3 year old in Target
One positive thing about having kids with lots of issues is that it makes me more unassuming when I see kids acting/parents parenting different ways in public. In fact, I'm more likely to assume or wonder if there is a reason like ours that the action is happening than it just being random. Examples:
A kid having a meltdown: oh, maybe she has SPD like Willow.
The mom helicoptering over her toddler at the play area: oh, maybe her little one has hypotonia like Willow and is prone to fall and get hurt. Maybe like Willow she's likely to grab onto the random baby next to her and pull him down with her.
An 8 year old riding in a stroller: oh, maybe he's on a max dose of Keppra too and it makes him sluggish (although I don't care if a typically developing 8 year old rides in a stroller. Heck yours truly would ride in one if the wheels would actually roll beneath me because who cares, free ride. I don't understand people caring about this).
The older boy standing defiant in the corner of the store refusing to move and glaring at his mom. The boy who eventually screams, "NO" with tears streaming down his face as he knocks toys off the shelf: maybe he's on medications that help his body, that save his life, but make his mind so emotional and chaotic that he has something called "Kepp-Rage" from a medicine called Keppra. Maybe like many of the kids of parents in my special needs mom group, he's somewhere on the colorful autism spectrum.
The kid eating a happy meal in a sit down restaurant: not a brat who gets his way, not a picky eater (not my words, people, just things we've heard) not parents who don't care about feeding him good, healthy foods--maybe he has food allergies like Ash. Maybe McDonalds is one of two safe restaurants he can eat at and it was the one closest.
A car parked in a handicap spot and no one "looks" disabled: honestly, I don't even pay attention, I got nothing here. I just assume they're legit because there are too many invisible illnesses and I'm not the disability police. People already have to fight their insurance and fight their physicians and fight with the DMV to get that thing hanging in their car. I'm not adding to their fight.
The pre-teen who is crying at the door of the sleepover that every other girl is running into: maybe she has generalized anxiety like my pre-teen has dealt with. Maybe she fights brave with tears in therapy like my daughter has.
The mom paying with her food stamp card and letting her little one play with her iPhone: Oh, she's like me. We had that card once when Isaac was on strike and we both had iPhones. What? Were we supposed to hand them over to the deserving police because we're supposed to "look" how you think someone with a food stamp card should look? Lowly and humble and just grateful to be in the presence of all those at WalMart? #hashtagblessed
The little one on a "leash": oh, maybe she's a wanderer like my friend's child on the autism spectrum. Maybe that life line from child to mama keeps her from being killed by traffic or getting lost. Worth it? Let that mom tell you...
The older kids at the mall at 10am on a weekday: maybe they're homeschooled like my kids.
And if these kids/parents are doing these things and it's due to no issues or diagnoses or random life happenings, what's it to you? Wouldn't you rather err on the side of love and acceptance? And will your silent (or voiced) judgement complete with an eye roll and head shake change anything you *think* needs to be changed? No.
But love might change things. In you first.
Always look for a chance to connect in these instances when you're prone to judge and wonder "what is that parent thinking?" or "what is WRONG with that child?" You just might learn something and that's amazing! Let the very people you judge become your teachers.
We all do it, but we all need to fight it.
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