The Polite Child Faces the World of Rudeness

So one of the jobs of a parent is to teach your children social norms, how to interact with society, and hopefully, how to be polite and friendly person. And having a child with autism means this is an even bigger focus for my household because my kidlet doesn’t have that finely tuned sensor that picks up those social cues like a “typical” child would. So we work with my son on learning how to engage people, how to have a give and take conversation, and what things could be considered rude. It’s a painstaking process at times.

However, earlier this week I had to bring him to school instead of him riding the bus because they were going on a special field trip. And as I was waiting outside with him, other kids were streaming into the school for their normal day. Well, my dear kidlet saw a little boy walk by who looked to be kindergarten age–so probably a year older than him. And kidlet perked up and said, “Hi! How are you?” And I’m thinking–well, look at that, my son is reaching out and engaging a child. Score!

But then the kid turned his head and gave my kidlet this snotty, what’s-your-problem look. Of course, kidlet didn’t register that reaction. He just smiled and waved at the boy.

Then, not thirty seconds later, another boy–probably eight–pulled onto the sidewalk on his bike. Kidlet–always one to be excited by the simplest things–said, “Wow, I like that bike!”  The kid rolled his eyes and said in a sarcastic tone, “Whatever. That was so three weeks ago.”

My jaw probably hit the grass. I kinda wanted to trip the kid right off that damn bike. He was old enough to see the child talking to him was all of four. And I was standing right there, holding kidlet’s hand.

And that’s when reality truly sank in–the world, especially in kid land, is mean and cruel. I’m trying to teach kidlet “social norms” but what if social norms mean being a bratty jerk? Here kidlet is being innocent and trying to practice what mommy and daddy are telling him are the “nice” things to do, and he’s shot down or ignored over and over again. It breaks my heart a little each time. I know it’s part of the deal. Kids certainly weren’t nice all the time in my childhood either. But it seems it’s only getting worse. Now they don’t even seem to keep it in check around adults.

It’s ugly and it’s sad. And it makes me want to build a cocoon around my sweet, innocent boy even though I know that’s not realistic or preparing him for the world at large. But knowing that he has deficits in those social areas makes me worry even more for him. He doesn’t have the tools to defend himself right now and probably won’t for a while–if ever. It’s like being thrown into war with a toothbrush when everyone else has machine guns.

But despite all that and all my worries, I have to say, I’m glad I have the polite child even if it come with lots of challenges. He may be an anomaly amongst his “normal” peers, but that doesn’t make the other kids behaviors the right ones. A lot of them could learn something from him.

*end rant*

I really did want to trip that kid.

How do you handle it when your child is picked on or other children shut them out? What social norms do you try to instill in your own children?


I’m Roni Loren, or as I’m called ‘round these parts, No Drama Mama. I’ve been married for ten years and have a four-year old son, who has recently been diagnosed with high-functioning autism. My days are spent writing very sexy romances (my PC way of saying erotic),avoiding all things housework, and hanging out with a kidlet who I suspect is vastly smarter than I am. I secretly dream of having a life that looks like the pages of Real Simple magazine, but would settle for Sorta Decent if could get there. My daily goal is to keep the drama on the pages of my books and out of my life–I’m successful at least twenty percent of the time. www.roniloren.com


What Race Are We In Again? Parental Competition

Primary school children, sports day

Photo by Duncan Hull (click pic for link)

Ask anyone who knows me, and they’ll tell you I’m competitive. I grew up playing sports and kind of took on the mentality of second place is first loser. (Let’s not talk about how I was salutatorian in both junior high AND high school. I have perpetual second place-itis it seems.) But one place where I thought would be free of competition has turned out to be an arena rife with it–the world of parenting.

It all starts with those annoying emails you sign up for when you’re pregnant. They’re exciting in the beginning–your baby is now the size of a Skittle and can feel when your stomach rumbles! Or whatever. But those things don’t go away after the baby comes. And then they morph from being fun little bits of information to measuring sticks that stress you out, make you paranoid, and become the chatter of fellow parents.

And boy, are parents competitive. It’s subtle and wrapped in a tone that lifts at the end, like what’s being said is oh-so-friendly, but the judgement is there. “Soooo, Sunshine Sparklepants is walking already and doing long division with her toes. I see your little guy is still rolling around like a neanderthal and sucking his thumb. Have you checked with your doctor about that? Are you bringing him to Dance Your Face Off classes on Saturdays? I’d bet he’d build that leg strength up if you did…”

Okay, so maybe it’s a bit more subtle than that, but it’s insidious nonetheless. And we all can fall into it. Measuring our kid up to the neighbors, flaunting our kid’s special talents or developmental leaps, pointing out things in other children who we think *should* be further along.

But listen–we need to stop this. Only your family cares about little Susie’s musical genius on the xylophone. And when you’re rambling on about your kid’s greatness, you may be telling it to a parent who is worried out of their mind, dealing with developmental delays in their own child or doubting their own parenting skills because their kid is a few stages behind.

How do I know? Because I am that mom. My son has high-functioning autism and has some developmental delays. I was that mom who was obsessing over every little thing–why did he take an extra month to point? Is he smiling at me or is it just gas? Why isn’t he talking in sentences yet?

So when another mom would start yammering on about her child’s precociousness and asking me endless questions about what stage my son was at, it would just make me feel more worried about my child and more inadequate as a mother. Of course, those moms who said those things weren’t trying to be mean or worry me. But even if they didn’t intend it, a strong undercurrent of competitiveness and my-kid-is-better-than-yours is present. So stop and think before you pull out that measuring stick.

And be proud of wherever your child is on the scale. A victory for your child is a victory no matter if it’s two months before or two years behind the neighbor’s kid.

My four-year old…

is not potty trained yet

has trouble having back and forth conversations

can’t tell me how his day was at school

still has trouble falling asleep on his own at night

and has to be the one to open doors or he gets upset

BUT he also…

can read books at a first grade level

knows the names and capitals of all 50 states and their location on the map

can count to 50

taught himself his upper and lowercase alphabet, colors, and shapes at age 2

can remember how to get somewhere even when mommy can’t

and always can make me smile.

So you know what? To hell with those emails and walk away from those comparison conversations. Obviously, you need to be aware if your child has delays because you want to get help and early intervention when needed, but don’t ever let anyone make you feel like your child is less than or “wrong” because they’re on a different path than another. We’re all individuals on our own timeline. This isn’t a race. There is no prize for the kid who learns to roll over first.

*end rant*  :)

Have you ever found yourself in one of those competitive parenting conversations? What did your child do slowly or quickly that made you have a parent freak out?


I’m Roni Loren, or as I’m called ‘round these parts, No Drama Mama. I’ve been married for ten years and have a four-year old son, who has recently been diagnosed with high-functioning autism. My days are spent writing very sexy romances (my PC way of saying erotic),avoiding all things housework, and hanging out with a kidlet who I suspect is vastly smarter than I am. I secretly dream of having a life that looks like the pages of Real Simplemagazine, but would settle for Sorta Decent if could get there. My daily goal is to keep the drama on the pages of my books and out of my life–I’m successful at least twenty percent of the time. www.roniloren.com

The Too Observant Child

Candy corn and candy pumpkins closeup

Photo by Juushika Redgrave (click pic for link)

So there’s this phase after you have a baby, a span of time where your child is not old enough to understand or catch on to everything going on around them, and you can get away with some things. You can have conversations that you know they aren’t following, you can listen to music that may have questionable lyrics, you can “trick” them (you know having that really noisy toy magically disappear). It’s a nice little time where you don’t have to be quite so careful.

I thought my kidlet (age 4) was still somewhat in this stage. He’s a little hard to figure out because he’s wicked smart but then has some language delays. So sometimes I think we underestimate exactly how much he’s observing and picking up. For instance, when he was two I was out at an ice cream shop with him and the song “Gives You Hell” by The All-American Rejects came on the radio. Well, I used to play music videos in the background when I did housework. Well, there’s this clap they do in the video at a very precise moment. And guess who clapped his hands over his head at the exact moment that part came up?  (The clap is at the :45 mark if you want to see it.)

This interest in music and ability to remember it has only increased with time. He can now do most of the choreography for Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance from when we watched the concert on TV. So we now try to be aware of what we’re letting him see or listen to. Though, I have to admit it’s kind of cool to have a kid who can hear songs in the grocery store and announces to everyone, “This is Journey! This is Foo Fighters! I love Pink!” : )

But now his observation skills have moved beyond TV and music. Now he’s apparently watching mommy and daddy much closer than we thought.

Conversation he had in the car this week with his daddy…

Kidlet: That’s the house with the trick-or-treat.

Hubs: You mean, that’s the house you went to when you trick or treated?

Kidlet: Yes, for Halloween.

Daddy: And what did they give you when you trick or treated?

Kidlet: Candy!

Daddy: And what did you do with the candy?

Kidlet: Mommy ate it.

*cringe* Now, for the record, I didn’t eat ALL the candy. But frankly, he’s not that far off. I’m kind of the healthy-cooking, organic, no food dyes kind of mama, so I limit his junk food pretty carefully. But I thought that after the few chocolates I gave him, he’d forgotten about the rest of it. Um, apparently not. Clearly, he knew just where all that stuff was and who was eating it, lol. So sneaky me was not as stealthy as I thought.

Lesson learned: Big Brother Kidlet is watching you.

I’m now on my best behavior. Easter candy will be shared by all. : )

So has your kidlet ever figured out something you were trying to “trick” them on? Or have you ever been caught red-handed like me? 


I’m Roni Loren,or as I’ll be called ‘round these parts, No Drama Mama. I’ve been married for ten years and have a four-year old son, who has recently been diagnosed with high-functioning autism. My days are spent writing very sexy romances (my PC way of saying erotic),avoiding all things housework, and hanging out with a kidlet who I suspect is vastly smarter than I am. I secretly dream of having a life that looks like the pages of Real Simplemagazine, but would settle for Sorta Decent if could get there. My daily goal is to keep the drama on the pages of my books and out of my life–I’m successful at least twenty percent of the time. www.roniloren.com