I think I might be writing this diary more for myself than for anyone else, but it might also be the case that my musings take you somewhere.
Some of you may have noticed I have kids. I have two, two boys, nine months apart age-wise. The older was adopted from an Eastern European orphanage at age 14 months. Three years later, the younger was adopted, also from an Eastern European orphanage at 46 months (almost 4).
The younger one, having suffered the first four years of his life in an institution, has many challenges. That's where the mothering part comes in. The "better" part is explained below.
Russian orphanages are very strange places. They are underfunded (at least at the time my two were adopted). Some effects: babies lay in cribs and cry and learn that no one comes to pick them up, so why cry. Nothing in the environment changes and there is very little stimulation, so kids lack sensory integration, and have little proprioceptive sense. The brain doesn't develop. Doesn't get wired right. No amount of love can overcome this early and prolonged sensory deprivation.
So it's tough to be parents of a developmentally-challenged kid such as mine. They act weird. They say inappropriate things, make age-inappropriate noises. They get over-stimulated easily (never learned how to self-modulate, nothing to modulate) and then act over-the-top. They can't remember rules very easily so team sports are hard. They are sensorily defensive so come off rude and un-sportsman-like because any casual collision feels like they've been hit with a bat.
Being in public with mine was a challenge for me. I can't speak for other parents of atypical kids, but I'll be honest here - sometimes I was embarrased. Always on guard and thinking I needed to head off inappropriate behavior at the pass. Quickly jumping into a conversation when my kid is saying something weird or unintelligible. Not wanting my child to reflect badly on me. I'm ashamed to admit.
But not any more. Now I believe that my child being atypical gives other people the opportunity to reveal who they really are. My attitude now is, "I'm not going to interpret my child, or excuse my child to you, or help you make your interaction with him easier. It's up to you. Show me who YOU are. How will YOU, as an adult, as a sentinent human being, going to interact with this precious child?"
I attribute the change in attitude to my hanging out at dKos, recognizing the Democratic groundswell, the rise of Obama's message, and reading some of the greats, like Bill Moyer. Returning to my progressive roots, born when I was younger and single and "doing good" in Chicago.
Being surrounded by all this good progressive mojo has made me realize how profoundly I have been affected by the conservative culture of the last thirty years. A culture of accumulation, where one is judged by one's possessions and appearance. Where children are a status symbol. Where we are not judged by the content of our character. I fell into the trap.
But not any more.
Today was an opportunity. At the pool park in a ritzy suburb some kids were making fun of my kid ("go back to preschool you retard"). My other son (his brother) and another friend came over to me and were very upset. They'd tried to get these other kids to stop, to no avail.
So I went up to these kids. I said
"listen, I'm not mad. I just want to point out that just like some people have broken arms, my kid has a little bit different way of looking at the world. Yes, he is weird. But you know what? He probably knows he's a little different. What would be great is if you think about the kind of person you want to be, and this is a chance to make a kid who is a little bit different feel better about himself. What do you think?"
The kids seemed to take it in.
So, thanks everyone.