This is Mallory. Easily my most challenging daughter. Teachers are always shocked when I tell them that Mallory is the bossiest child in the house, and the one behind most of the drama that occurs among my children. At school, she shines. She adores her teachers, works hard, and SERIOUSLY aims to please. At home, well…let’s just say she lets her hair down. I have butted heads with Mallory more in her eight years than I have with Kayley in her sixteen! One thing about Mallory that’s pretty consistent, though, is the way she steadfastly defends and looks after her twin brother.

The other day, I was out in the world with all four little ones, and we decided to shop for Halloween costumes. Naturally, we hit up my favorite thrift store, which in my opinion should be the starting point for all costume endeavors. As we browsed the racks of second-hand costumes, Pablo started to browse through the toys, and found a little car to play with. He started to run through the (practically empty) store, bending over and pushing the car, and then sprawling himself out to slide across the slick, polished floor. Unfortunately, he bumped into a woman. She looked down at him, he looked up at her, and said, “MOVE!” Rude? Oh, yes. I was about thirty feet away, not close enough to apologize and explain, and remind him of the proper way to say excuse me, and I’m so sorry, and whoops, let me just go around you.

Another woman, a bystander who was not involved in any way, bent down to Pablo’s level and said, “NO! You don’t talk to grown ups that way! You are RUDE!” MALLORY approached the woman and said, “I’m sorry my brother was rude. He doesn’t know any better and we’re trying to teach him. He has autism.”

At this point, I was making fast strides across the store because I could see from Mallory’s expression and the woman’s expression that things were going badly. When the woman saw me coming, she turned on her heel and started to walk away. I stopped her to ask what was going on, and she said, “This…BOY…is out of control. He’s using bad language, he’s just crashing RIGHT INTO people. He crashed RIGHT INTO that woman over there. He’s just out of control.” I approached the crashed into woman with Pablo and he apologized to her. She laughed, and said it was no big deal. This seemed to enrage the second woman even more. “He has autism,” I explained, “And we’re trying very hard to teach him how to act in the store. Sometimes he gets away from me, though, like children do…” She rolled her eyes, PATTED MY SHOULDER, and walked away.

As she walked away, Mallory leaned in close. “Mom, that lady was SO MEAN to Pablo, and honestly? She was so mean to me, too! She was involved in something that wasn’t in her business at all. She said we were the rudest children she’s ever seen in her life. I apologized and she wouldn’t even stop glaring at us.” Rage bubbled inside me and I felt my face get hot! I saw the woman, just feet away from us at that point, paying for her items at the cash register. I took the deepest, most ginormous breath ever and willed myself to keep my feet planted on the floor and not fly over there and start some shit. Did it make her feel big to tell off an eight-year-old? Really?

Later on, Paul and I had a long talk with all the kids, trying to repeatedly drive home the point that Mallory did JUST THE RIGHT THING. I’ve always tried to show my kids that you can maintain some grace and dignity even in the face of rudeness and hostility. I stand by the idea that it’s better to come from a point of educating people in the hopes that next time they encounter a kid who acts rudely, they might think twice before dropping any guerrilla-style drive-by discipline. Here on my blog, though? I have no problem calling that lady out as a total cunt.

It upsets me because I encounter this so often. SO. OFTEN. Probably every other time we go somewhere, I am reminded of how impatient, unforgiving, unsympathetic, indignant, and without compassion people are. People HAVE BALLS, MAN. They sigh heavily, roll their eyes, talk shit in stage whispers, and generally just MAKE IT KNOWN TO ME that they do NOT appreciate being inconvenienced for twenty to thirty seconds of their life because my son made a loud squawking noise or stepped into their path at the grocery store. They make it their business and feel it necessary to comment if they hear something they perceive to be improper. It affects me deeply, but it affects my other kids as well. Pablo might be oblivious to someone calling him a retard or “the rudest child I’ve ever seen in my life” but it cuts me to the core, and although you might not realize it, it hurts his sisters, too.

If you scroll down to the bottom of the page, you can see links to previous posts of mine, whatever I was writing about on or around this date, every year I’ve had this blog. I read through old posts once in awhile and I really miss the person I used to be – I was so much sunnier when the kids were littler. I’m still pretty bubbly, but I also have a side to me that is completely jaded and bitter. PEOPLE, I AM DOING THE BEST I CAN. Can you imagine going through life, trying to be the best mom you can be to your kids, and having your parenting questioned and your child insulted and glared at nearly every time you leave your house? It’s something I try hard to insulate my other children from, but clearly, they are affected by Pablo’s disability as well.

Paul and I always remind the girls to look out for one another and especially to look out for Pablo, and thankfully, that seems to be sinking in a little bit. He’s a lucky little boy that he’s going to have four sisters to help guide his way through life. Fingers crossed that by the time they reach adulthood, society will be a little more tolerant and a lot more educated about individuals with autism. And I can only hope that Mallory will always be so mature and composed when confronted by ignorant, rude people.