"He's autistic"

It was only 1:30pm when I found myself glancing at the clock every few minutes or so and wishing that it's really much later then it was. Preferably around 5:30 when soon we would hear the key turn in the door, and the girls' father comes home to share the joy of parenting that seems like a lie people tells to get you to reproduce. Sure signs of a rough afternoon. Rather than stay at home where emotional land minds are everywhere and tantrum triggers hide in wait at every corner, I packed up the girls and escaped to an indoor play area that will distract us all.

What with the wet weather and a scheduled birthday party, the place was packed with kids and parents. Though quite chaotic, everyone seemed to be playing nicely enough for me to set the girls free (with supervision, of course). The girls soon claimed two Tiny Tikes cars (you know, the kind that you drive Flintstones-style with your feet) and drove around town until a boy of perhaps 5 approached Evelyn's car. Judging by his body language, I knew he was ready to try something for the car. I stayed away to see how Evelyn would respond. (We're working on getting her to stand her own ground.)

The boy used no words. He pulled at the car door. Evelyn tensed up but did nothing but looked at him blankly. Seeing that she did not budge, he went and sat on the back of her car. She cried to me for help and that scared him away.

I went and spoke briefly with Evelyn to offer her some comfort and tell her what to do in these occasions. After I left, the boy came back and upped the level of attack. He held on to the car door, shook it hard, and tried to grab Evelyn while she, again, shut down and endured in silence. This time I rushed over before it got out of hand, and told him to stop in my "if you don't listen to me you will be in big trouble, buddy" voice. That sent him running away with a squeal to a corner of the little cafe where two women were thoroughly engaged in conversation. Maybe one of them is his mother, I thought, and would do something to stop him. But no one paid him any mind. While I was talking Evelyn through what just happened, I saw the boy inching back towards us. His eyes were on me and the hand holding a toy was raised. He came near and tried to struck me. ME! An adult who is, what, 1.5 times his size! What the heck! Where's the respect?

The attempt was aborted when I turned towards him to ask him where his parent was. He ran away like before to the same corner. And then, and then, he rush back to tentatively poke my shoulder when I had my back turned. A puny attempt. Such a pathetic, cowardly thing to do. What, you can't even be a proper bully and had to wait until I had my back turned to act? And even then you can only deliver such a sad little poke?

Any way, his mother finally showed up and gave chase as he ran away to hide in a play house. Turns out she was one of the conversing women! While her son was bullying my daughter and then tried to bully me, she was only a few feet away and did nothing! Furthermore, she did nothing about what she just witnessed except offering him the car that Evelyn finally gave up! No stern talking to. No time out. No "go apologize". Nothing.

My blood began to boil. As soon as she sat back with her friend, I went over and told her that her son was physically antagonizing my child, hoping to get some response out of her. She gave a noncommittal answer that was little better than a shrug, and turned her attention back to her friend. What? WHAT? Did you not hear what I just told you? Did you not see what went on? Oh, I'm sorry, is my topic not as fun as what your conversation is about? Are you blind to what's going on here? Your son is only five, probably 3.5 feet tall and already destructive and harmful. What would happen if he continues to get his way? What would happen when he hits adolescence when he grew to his full height and weight? Who would be his targets? Who would not be?

Her lack of reaction made my face flush and my heart pound with anger, but also completely confused. Can any parent really be so indifferent to their child's behavior and upbringing? Was the boy's well being not at all important?

Her ambivalent threw me off. Rather than continue my half-ass confrontation (never good at it), I went back to the girls and proceed to watch the boy like a hawk in case he dare come near us again. The thing was, the play ground was so busy, he never lacked kids to pick on. He followed a 2-year-old girl around with a toy pointing at her as if its a weapon. Then, he joined two boys' rough housing, and carried it too far by hitting one of the boys' head with his toy, repeatedly. His mother chased him as he ran away again, and gave him a few words. A few words, that's it! After he bang someone's head intentionally and repeatedly! As I was watching it unfold, her friend appeared beside me and apologized for what had happened earlier.

"He's autistic," she explained, "it's been difficult..."

Autistic. The word was like a bucket of cold water dousing over my head. The rage that was burning in me? Disappeared with a puff of smoke. The hawk that was watching the boy? Turned into a little dung beetle and scuttled away. Everything that I've read about autism ran through my head. The temper tantrums, the dissociation with other people, and the communication obstacles. It must be difficult, I thought, and came up with some excuses for the boy and the mother. Maybe this was the first day they've gone out in a long while. Maybe the mother really needed a break. Maybe it has been a long time since she had a chance to catch up with a friend. Maybe... Yet hard as I try, none of the maybe's justify how she handled the boy's transgressions.

If the boy's behavior towards others was nothing new, should the mother not be monitoring him even more diligently? The crowds and sounds in the play ground may overwhelm any child, never mind a sensory sensitive autistic child. There were so many possible provocations to outbursts, and so many potentially harmful situations to him and others, should she not be paying closer attention?

I understand a mother's need (especially a stay-at-home mom's) to step out of the house and socialize with another adult, just to verify that there is still a living, thinking individual underneath the hubbub that is also called motherhood. There were times when I was tempted to drag the girls out for a play date, by their hair if need by, even if they kick and scream all the way, because of how much I craved for conversations that does not involve princesses or had to be spoken in mock cheerfulness or include words like "I'm going to count to three...". But you are never relieved of your parenting responsibilities when the child is with you no matter how lively your company, or how engaging the conversation you were having. Is it not our job to make sure that our children grow up to be proper human beings? Even with autism, the boy should still be taught about proper behavior, about boundaries, about right and wrong. Today, him still being just a boy, his actions and the consequences of them are his mother's to bear. What he had done at the play ground was no fault of his. The fault lies squarely on his mother's shoulders. This time, no one was injured and no one made any fuss. What happens if someone was really hurt?

I don't think I will ever forget the boy and his mother. In case you can't tell from this chapter I just wrote, I was quite shaken by the mother's handling of the situation. I sincerely hope that this was an off-day for an usually attentive and thoughtful mother, and that the boy will grow up okay. Or else... or else I wish the boy all the luck he needs to navigate through life unharmed and to do no harm to others.

Part-time? Full-time?

At Lauren's new play group yesterday, a mom asked me if I am a full-time mom. The assumption was that since I'm there on a Wednesday morning, I must be.
Surprisingly, I did not know how to answer her.
Am I a full-time mother when I rely on my mother-in-law to care for my children two days a week while I try to work towards a potential future career?
Am I only half-time then when motherhood is the main responsibilities and duties I perform?
Is it decided by the hours I put in into them? Or could it be measured by how much thought I put into each category?
Neither is never far from my mind. When I am working, the images of the little girls may be reduced to two little bean-like figures crouching at the edge of my mind, but they are never dispersed. When I am with them, the questions and issues I have towards work may be muted, but they never cease to nibble at my consciousness.
If you put school work and motherhood on the table and ask me to prioritize, motherhood definitely wins out. I will never render the primary care taker position of my girls to any one else. When I have the girls, we play, bake, read, sing, dance. I at most sneak a couple of minutes to check my email if I know something important is coming in (or if I am having a minor panic attack about my school work). On those days, I am not physically engaged with the academics. Does this make me a lesser would-be scholar?
But I've also handed a feverish child to her grandmother in order to attend class before. Does this make me a lesser mom?
I know I can't have it all. I am already lucky to have the support of my family to be on my quest for this degree. I dare not ask more of others but of myself to continue and try. Try and reach and pray that the carrot dangling in front of me is not fixed at arm's length, but would finally be within my grasp. More importantly, I pray that the carrot is as tasty and satisfying as I imagine it to be.