I’ve written before about Simon’s serious aversion to birds, and I still agree with it – birds can be super creepy.
When the weather comes in around here, suddenly the parking lots are filled with not only big black grackles (which terrify him if they get too close), but also with sea gulls.
This makes it hard to walk through a full parking lot. All the birds swooping, crying out, and even landing on cars or lights can make Simon panic. He’s gotten a lot better, and now he’s prone to say, “Shoo birds!” whenever he notices one anywhere nearby.
But it still makes it hard to walk through a full parking lot.
It was one of those weather-coming-in days when Simon and I went to the grocery store.
Simon has an accessible parking tag for situations like this, and I was going to use it.
The parking lot was huge, and I knew that trying to get from the end of the lot to the front door was going to involve a lot of ducking, dodging, and potential freaking out on Simon’s part. There was no reason for him to lose control on the way to the store, and especially no reason for him to risk in engaging in a dangerous behavior like running in front of a car if a bird got too close.
It seemed that all the accessible spots were taken, so I did a few circles around the parking lot.
Then I spotted it – a car with Georgia plates sitting right there in one of the accessible spots.
No marking on the plate.
No tag hanging inside the windshield.
Sure, it was possible that they had forgotten to hang their tag in the front window, but it was just as possible that they had decided it was too hot and they didn’t want to walk or they were assholes who didn’t care.
Because of that, I want to put this out there – please, please, please DO NOT park in a spot unless you are actually authorized to park there.
People might see Simon and think, “well, he doesn’t have a *physical* disability so he doesn’t need it,” but that ignores the safety issue. Being able to walk is a plus, but walking in front of a car because of fear and lack of safety awareness…not a plus.
We did manage to park somewhat close to the accessible parking, and Simon clung to my arm while we told the birds to shoo.
Good shopping trip, but, as we came out, the Georgia car was still there, taking up a spot that they may or may not have been authorized – or needed – to use.
We had one more errands to run, and when we got to that store, there was an accessible spot right up in the front, so we snagged it and went in. The spot was attached to the zebra crossing, and we could walk right up to the door without having to walk in the parking lot itself, making it a lot safer and easier.
Coming out, I was thankful that we’d been able to avoid the dangers that go along with those evil birds.
A formation flew overhead, and I pointed to them.
“See, Simon? It’s okay. They’re not bothering us!”
And that’s when one of the evil birds shit on the front of my tank top.
Evil, evil, evil birds.
School started on Monday!
Simon has been happy to be back on a schedule, and every day, he comes home and tells me that he’s going back to school, and I remind him that he won’t go back until the next morning.
Monday was good.
Tuesday was good.
Wednesday. Well. Wednesday was.
He got home, and everything seemed to be running smoothly, but then for no reason I could tell, something changed, and he began getting upset. He wanted dad home. He wanted dad home now, and nothing I could say would make it better.
Okay, I thought. Let’s try to go for distraction. (Seriously, sometimes I think that distraction is my best friend, although when it comes to ADHD, it’s my worst enemy.)
“Do you want to go run errands?” I asked him.
Oh, yeah, he was all in.
We went to the thrift store across the way.
And he was not all in. Not even close to partway in. He didn’t even have a toe dipped in there.
Instead, as we walked into the store, he began demanding dad. Loudly. Repeatedly.
He got more upset the longer we were there. I tried to get him to hold off, asked him if he still wanted to go anywhere else, told him that dad would be home when we got home. No dice.
He screamed more. He cried, tears streaming down his face.
Time to leave.
We got to the counter.
We had to wait.
Simon really, really, really did not want to wait.
He escalated in decibels, and he added in this little shrieking thing he does.
Now, I’m going to go back a bit.
When we were on vacation, I managed to pick up a cold. It didn’t really hit until the last day, but since it has hit, I’ve been congested and coughing, and I’ve had a sinus headache every day. It normally starts out hurting, and by about lunch time, it has gotten worse, and by dinner time, it’s turned into a migraine. What I’m trying to say is that the noise was bad for the people in the store, but I’m going to say it was slightly worse for me. I couldn’t go to another area of the store and ignore it, and I couldn’t stop it.
I tried to calm him down, like I had been doing. I gave him pressure and hugs, I rubbed his back, and I told him he was doing good at calming down (even though he wasn’t – but for some reason, telling him that he is doing it seems to make him do it sometimes).
He began slamming his hands down on the counter, shrieking.
I pulled his hands back, told him not to do it, and listened to him getting louder.
I considered leaving, but I had two things I really wanted, and I was seconds away from getting rung up.
No one said anything to me, but when I looked around, I saw the stares. Shockingly, people were not enjoying his meltdown. I had to balance what I wanted versus if I thought I was driving other people insane. It was a public place, I reasoned. And if I can’t get him used to going to public places and stopping a meltdown, then what will happen when I *have* to go somewhere and he’s having a meltdown?
I was going to try to wait it out.
I managed to pay with him only breaking free once more from a hug to slam his hands down on the counter. Then we were outta there.
I sent out a quick tweet, which showed up on my FB page, and I got a “sorry” and a frowny face.
I wanted to explain my tweet. And any of my other tweets when I say Simon is having a bad day or a meltdown or whatever else is going on that he (and I) aren’t enjoying.
I don’t mean the tweets to get replies of sympathy. I don’t want people to apologize for Simon – and me – having a bad day.
I’m really just trying to get out there and say, “Hey, this happens. Next time you’re at the store, don’t stare, even if you want to. Next time you’re at the store, realize that you aren’t enjoying the yelling, but neither is the kid – or adult – doing it. Neither is/are the parent/parents who are trying to help the person having the meltdown. Next time you’re at the store, have some empathy, not just sympathy. Next time you’re at the store, be aware why the other person is there, and why you might have to put up with something you find unpleasant. And, next time you’re at the store, if you hear/see this happening, why not run over to the person with a Starbucks gift card…”