Someone asked me this morning at Kayla’s soccer game why I always say neuro-typical people are overrated. The simple answer is: they are. Special needs individuals are brutally honest and have no filter. They say what they feel when they feel it without thought to how it affects the people around them and do what they want without thought to how it might make other people feel. Because the’re selfish? No. It’s because they very often lack the capacity to think about anyone but themselves and their own needs. Take Kevin for example. The other day Kevin was playing his favorite game on the computer, Stack the States. When he realized he had to pee he did not go to the bathroom because it’s too far away from the computer and he was really enjoying playing Stack the States. So he peed in the paper recycling, because it’s more conveniently located. Now as you can imagine this made me very unhappy, and when I brought my dismay to Kevin’s attention he looked at me as if to say, “What’s your problem lady? At least I peed in the recycling container and not on the floor. That’s major progress you ungrateful hag.” Then he proceeded to do what he always does when he’s mad at me, which is sing one of the various versions of his favorite song: Bad Mommy. The lyrics are quite simple to remember: They’re Bad Mommy. And it can be sung to tune of any song that’s ever been written. For example, on this day, Kevin sang the Jingle Bells version of Bad Mommy which goes something like this:
Bad Mommy
Bad Mommy
Bad bad bad Mommy
Bad Mommy
Bad Mommy
Bad Bad Bad Mommy!!!!!!!!
Then I told him he had to help me take out the paper recycling. He responded to this command by singing his second favorite song: No Mom. Like Bad Mommy, No Mom can be sung to the tune of just about anything but on this day he chose to sing the Twinkle Twinkle Little Star version which goes something like this.
No Mom no Mom no no Mom
No Mom no Mom no no Mom
No Mom no Mom no Mom no
No Mom no Mom no Mom no…….
You get the idea. I try to look on the bright side, at least he’s on key.
And that lovely day he peed on all the cereal in Shoprite was a direct result of my telling him he could not have CoCo Puffs. So if you want to look at it from Kevin’s perspective it was all my fault. After all, I could have just let him have the CoCo Puffs. Coincidentally he managed to soak up every single box of cereal except the CoCo Puffs, just in case I decided to be reasonable and see things his way.
Kevin hates to go to speech therapy. Since he lacks the necessary verbiage to express his distaste for his Monday appointment, he communicates it fairly nonverbally. He picks up garbage from the floor of my car, chucks it at the back of my head while I’m driving and shouts, “Mail!” the whole ride there. You’d think this would inspire me to clean my car every once and awhile, but I shudder to think what he might throw at my head if there weren’t any empty juice boxes at his disposal.
When you tell him to go to be bed he shouts, “No!” and then tries to kick you in the shins.
He refers to his sisters as Big Poopface and Kaya Poopface when they won’t give him their cell phones.
My favorite Kevin story of all time was when we tried to prep him for his first confession. That’s right, we’re Catholic, and in order for Kevin to take part in First Holy Communion he had to confess his sins. Now I tried to reason with the good folks at church, but they would have none if it. “He’ll be fine,” they assured me. OK, but……………he doesn’t speak in full sentences? “No problem!” they said. “What matters is that he’s making the effort.” Insert smile and sign of the cross. “OK, but………………. he doesn’t think he has any sins?” “Oh sure he does, mom YOU’RE just underestimating him.” Insert disapproving look and additional sign of the cross. “Fine,” I thought, “You asked for it. ” And though I did my best to prep him, Kevin’s first confession went a little like this:
Father Charles: Bless you my son. What are you’re sins?
Kevin: Hi
Father Charles: Hi Kevin, please tell me your sins
Kevin: Ummmmm, hit
Father Charles: Good job Kevin! Did you hit someone?
Kevin: Yeah
Father Charles: Hitting is bad
Kevin: Sorry
Father Charles: It’s OK. Who did you hit?
Kevin: Kaya
Father Charles: Now that you know hitting is bad, do you promise never to do it again?
Kevin: No
Father Charles: Kevin if you want to be forgiven you have to say you’re never going to hit Kayla again and be sorry.
Kevin: Not sorry
Father: You’re not sorry?
Kevin: No, Kaya bad
You gotta hand it to him, at least he’s honest, and Kayla can be pretty bad sometimes.
This abject honesty has rubbed off on my other 2 children. For example, about a year ago one of Dana’s friends asked her why she’s never in the inclusion class. Her response: “I LIVE the inclusion class. The school knows I’ve suffered enough.”
Now if you ask the ladies in Medford Lakes what Rachel Ulriksen is like, some of them will tell you I’m awesome, some of them will tell you I’m a bitch but ALL of them will tell you I’m crazy. And the thing is I’m really not: I’m just honest, about everything, all the time. I admit things other women would rather die than admit and tell stories that most women would kill themselves to make sure no one ever hears. Most women are desperate to look as if they and their children are perfect. Or, they’re afraid to tell it like it really is for fear of being judged. Me? I don’t give a shit. Judge me. Have a blast.
We members of the Nobody Wants To Be A Member of This Club Including Us Club spend a lot of time trying to teach our children how to behave like everyone else, when what we SHOULD be doing is getting everyone else to be a little more like them: Honest. I’m not trying to convince anyone to go peeing in the paper recycling, but it would be nice if we were all a little more genuine in our interactions with one another. Neurotypical people are overrated. They lie, they hurt other people’s feelings, and they care way too much what other people think of them. Try to be a little more like Kevin. The next time someone asks you to apologize for something you’re not really sorry for, say No. And don’t worry, the priest will still let you receive your first holy communion.
