Some Kids Do 'Ave 'Em - Parents..

It was a gorgeous autumnal morning - a slight nip in the air, sunny with a misty haze over the ground. The boys were playing happily on the assault course, the squirrels were lobbing ripe conkers at them and I was kicking a ball for the dog - the day had an air of idyllic slow-mo about it.

Imagine my surprise when, like a needle scraping over vinyl, a tight lipped and unamused woman decided to unleash some fury on me. "Can't you read?" she yelled "The sign says No Dogs - get that thing out of here" she continued, flashing an evil death stare at Claude, our "please please let me please you" Labrador. I politely informed her that dogs are allowed on the rec but not on the (unfenced) play area which we were well away from. As she marched off, I impolitely swore at her departing back when she was (just) out of earshot (that inner fishwife deep in my soul just won't be silenced when my sense of justice is challenged!)

After a few minutes of simmering and kicking the ball - quite viciously - for the dog, I realised that her son had not moved from his position at the top of the climbing frame for quite some time. On further inspection I realised that it was probably fair to suspect that he was autistic - that look behind the eyes and the frantic flapping etc.  Feeling like a prize lemon, I approached Mrs Tight Lips to try to sort things out. I asked if her son was frightened of dogs - " He's autistic and he's terrified of dogs and we've had 12 years of selfish people like you bringing your filthy beasts into public places". Another death stare at Claude who was now frantically wagging out an apology. I apologised and said that I understood autistic fears and phobias, being a mother of an autistic child as well and that, if she'd told me that her child was afraid, I would have immediately put the dog on a lead. This had a similar effect of poking a cross crocodile with a blunt object "I see no reason to tell people he's autistic - your dog shouldn't be here and haven't you read all those stories about children being admitted to hospital with E Coli poisoning. Rant. Rant. Rant"

It was at this point that I realised that this had as much to do with Mrs T-L's fears as her fears for her (still at the top of the climbing frame) son. I realised that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and there was no point in continuing our little chat! I left her shouting about ringing the council and banning all filthy disease-ridden dogs from the planet.

This was not a fun morning. The autumnal idyll was shattered and suddenly the fluffy squirrels appeared to be red eyed and foaming and the mouth! I spent the rest of the day with an uncomfortably bitter taste in my mouth. It made me think the following:

1. Arguing in public is so un-British. If we'd been in France, a crowd would have gathered, Gauloises would have been waved around emphatically and we all would have had a jolly good "putain" yelling, slanging match.
2. Just because people have kids with autism, it doesn't magically change them into saintly people. It's an ever-growing cross-section of society with people from all walks of life and with varying opinions. Mothers of kids with autism are not all going to become one big happy sorority. Tensions run high. There's more than a hint of competitiveness. There's a lot of sleep deprivation around. And a lot of anger.
3. I like dogs. I'm slack about hand-washing, nose-wiping and germ eradication with my kids. I religiously scoop the dog's poops though. Some people loathe dogs. Some people are better about germ-warfare. Some people have OCD.
4. This lady made me feel sad because she was modelling to her terrified son that he is damn right to be terrified of these evil four-legged germ mongerers. If he goes near one, he'll end up in hospital. That is an unhappy way to live your life.
5. Which brings to mind the immortal words of Philip Larkin: They F**k you up, your mum and dad, They may not mean to but they do. They fill you with all the faults they had, and add some extra just for you" No parent is perfect. Some kids are less "perfect" than others. These ones trigger insecurity and, sometimes despair in their parents. It seems that some kids are easier than others and those that aren't easy have a tendency to magnify and display our weaknesses and failures so publically.
6. The  main thing that I took away from my meeting with this furious, probably exhausted and desperate woman is this: that Hell hath no fury like a mother protecting her autistic child. Rational or irrational - it makes no difference. These kids need a lioness to fight their corner. I just wish I hadn't been on the receiving end!
   

1.