My Reflection

Today I got to look at the other side of my life. I took Daniel to a Toddler and Mom play group. I walked in to the building and was directed to the room where the class was being held. Even before I walked into the room I could hear Sally Noname Jr. screaming. No,  'screaming' isn't the right word. The best word to describe it would be an autistic scream. It is more throaty, deeper, and... well just trust me, different. How I feel about this sound is very similar to a parent of a young child. You just know your kids cry. You also know if its real, fake, or urgent. This was autistic.

Daniel and I walk into the room and it is everything I can do not to stare at this women and her child. I try no to, because it is rude to stare. I just cant help myself. I steal glances every few minutes. I know she sees me, and I am sure she thinking I am judging her, but I just can't help it. Do I look like that? I get a moment to actually pay attention to how the other parents react to her child having what my family calls an episode. I see her scramble to get things out of her bag to help calm Sally Jr. down- knowing they are sensory toys and tools. To a normal person she just looks like a mom trying to bribe her kid toward good behavior with toys when she should be disciplining them. But I know better, and I just want to hug her.

A younger women scoots over to help try to get Sally Jr. under control. Mom goes in the bag again and pulls out a vest. Not just any vest- the exact same vest I was looking at online last night. The one I can't find in any stores to actually touch and feel. This is a weighted compression sensory vest. Now I know I am obviously staring at this women and child because I am leaning and moving around other moms and kids to get a look at this vest, how it fits, and more importantly how her child reacts to it. I see her glance at me out of the corner of her eye- wondering if I am about to give her 'My 2 cents worth'.

Sally Jr. is taken out of the room- surly as punishment. When she calms down and behaves she can join in on the fun, right? No. I know exactly why. Because it is a small space, and there is a lot of stimulation. Sally's shoes and socks come off. Of course they do, I totally get it.  I mean I could trade places with this women and have this be an average Wednesday afternoon.

I can't wait another second and end up pouncing on this poor lady.

"Where did you get the vest?" She tried to tell me that it's not just a normal fashionable piece of clothing, but I interrupt her- "Do you think it works? How do you like it? How long have you had it? How did you know about the sizing?" At this point I bet she thinks I have sensory issues and want the vest for myself! I see her face change as she realizes I know what its like for her, and she starts talking to me like I am an old friend.

How refreshing! We talk about judgements we have made, and that have been made against us. She shares her tips and tricks to get through the days, and stand there nodding in agreement, wide eyed wondering how she can read my mind so easily. I look over and see her daughter line up cars in a single neat perfect row and it tugged at my heart. I myself have blogged about this exact behavior.

Someone else is living this life too.

It is bittersweet. I hate for anyone to have to go through this, but I love to see it out in public. As I sat watching her daughter and talking with her, it was like we were part of the same secret club.