Being social.

Sometimes, I hate going out into the public. People can be stupid and thoughtless.

It's surprising to hear some of the things that come out of the mouths of strangers. I think, maybe they don't think I can hear them? Can't they see my ears? I bet that's it, because no one can be such a bitch on purpose. Or maybe I hold my standards of society too high. I often stop myself from giving anyone the benefit of a doubt. Thankfully, bad situations do not outnumber the good ones.

Keep in mind that I am most definitely having the most wonderful time of my life. PP makes everything fun! I am pretty sure I make everything fun for her as well. Before she was born, I lacked direction and ambition to do what was good for me. PP makes me want to be a better person so she can have the best life possible. Sadly, strangers don't see this blinding happiness when they see us walking down the street, or grocery shopping. It's not like I can always look like merry sunshine with all the work it takes to be truly happy on the inside.

I need a spit of time to rant. This may be the perfect place to do so.

People in public places can be so rude. The main objective of this rant is to help all the Normies out there realize that what you say can hurt someones feelings. Please, think before you speak. Maybe, think before you stare. It's so obvious when people stare and they think you don't notice. All of those little comments and thoughts will rest easy inside your tiny mind. Just pretend I'm not even there, let me go about my business as you would for anyone.

To the guy in the bread aisle at Cub:
Yes, I noticed that you thought you were so sneaky to take a second glance at PP as you walked by; your first neck wrenching glance was not obvious at all. I also noticed that you laughed as you did so, and please know it took every ounce of my strength to not throw every item in my grocery cart at you like a professional softball player. In a fit of rage, I can channel the ability of any sports star. Including  kung-fu.

To the sweet, old couple walking around the lake:
You are so sweet. I get it. I love sweet old people. You wear your "Life is Good" t-shirt, fisherman's hat, and cargo shorts. Wearing velcro sandals is a necessity for Arthritis. I GET it. Please realize, you aren't really that old yet. Medical technology is only getting better, so it will be me or one of my amazing Nurse friends standing in as your caregiver when you can't hold your bowels anymore. You'll be staring at a painfully accepting and understanding face until the age of 100 because your kids won't come visit you enough, and you'll be glad for it because that person will be a very good caretaker. I think it's appropriate to refrain from mentioning (as I truck along with my sorry, un-athletic ass, jogging) that I have "Quite the job to train for" because I could say the same thing to you. Your sympathetic eyes make me want to kick something. You'd better get in some of those Depends now, because you'll need to know your preference for preventing diaper rash in the future. You'll see how much sympathetic eyes will save you when you are actually old.

To the teenie-bopper girls that just so happen to be EVERYWHERE:
I know you saw that girl on '16 and Pregnant' who has the baby with glasses. OMG can you believe it. You see kids with glasses every day. LOL. You feel it's necessary to let every parent with a child who has glasses know how CUTTTTTEEEE their kid is, just for wearing glasses. Comments, giggles, stares, points. SMH. You have no filter, and no one has ever told you to have one. I know my daughter is freaking adorable. Shut up. I hope you have a perfect life and no harm ever comes to you as you grow older and increasingly unattractive.

Am I anti-public? Maybe. Probably. I probably shouldn't let other people bother me, but when rudeness rears it's ugly face, it bothers me. The amount of exposure available to people with disabilities is greater than it ever has been, tolerance is publicized obsessively, but yet I am astounded at the amount of whispered comments and funny looks I get from people when I go into public with my daughter. Please make a note, I am not a Normie. I am Lacey. I am a mother. I will rip someones face off like a psycho chimpanzee if you catch me on a bad day. I am crazy Minnesota Nice at the same time.

My daughter is a Weaver. She makes weird noises when she's excited. PP will charm your socks off when she laughs. She laughs hysterically when she's mad. She communicates with sign language. She looks different. She wears different shoes. She wears pink glasses. PP always wears stretchy clothes. She needs her mommy more than a normal child does. I literally need to hold her up when she wants to play at the park. I don't mind. I love playing at the park, and I have since I was a kid. So what's wrong with being around other people while playing at the park?

It depends on who is at the park. Out of the numerous times PP and I grace the park with our presence, only one mother was brave enough to ask questions and seem interested, and she had to tell her daughter, Ruth, to not hug PP because she didn't want to scare PP. I loved it.

One time I caught myself saying something ridiculous. PP wanted to get closer to a girl who was playing with a basketball near a hoop while her mom was watching. The girl was about 10 years old, and her mom was shooting lazy daggers from her eyes as she was obsessively glancing at her smart phone. As PP got closer, without thinking I said "Now, Nelly, we don't go to the park to play basketball with other kids." I didn't want to go near this Botox babe, but what the fudge. Why else would you go to the park, and why the fuzzy haired devil would I tell PP otherwise? There is something wrong here. Maybe Mommy's alright, and Daddy's alright, they just need a little help. I would recommend a lot of help, because Mommy got so upset when her daughters solo basketball game was interrupted she took herself and her stupid, beautiful, untamed golden retriever back to the overpriced cave they slithered from. Can you blame PP for wanting to play with the most orange-y, giant-ey bouncy ball she has ever seen? I bet if PP was playing the worlds largest breast implant,  that Mommy would be my bestfriend. The park is better off without piles of shit laying around, so see ya later.

I've timed it. Every time PP and I go to a park, any park, anyone who is there will leave within 5 minutes. It takes about 5 minutes for any normal child to notice PP, whether they were brave enough to come up and say hello or just see her in action. Their caregiver or parent will get weird. They won't know what to do around PP because she is terribly shy. Talking to me is even more far fetched. But, if PP is brave enough to go near a child, she is too shy to actually have any sort of interaction with a stranger. She literally closes up; sitting on the ground and covering her face with her hands until whoever is trying to interact with her leaves. She smiles the entire time. I know that she loves to be around other people. She loves to watch other kids play and do what they do, she just doesn't know how to interact with them. PP can't talk like other people can. It takes her longer than 5 seconds to warm up to someone. Peace out, playmates...5 seconds is all it takes to make a friend. We have no neighbor friends. As frustrating as this situation may be, in the end it is nice to have a park to yourself. PP can fall, make weird noises and explore the environment without obstruction. She can be obsessive, playing with the steering wheel for 10 minutes straight and eating the dirt she picks off of her clothes, blissfully shrieking at the top of her lungs every time a plane flies ahead or someone with sunglasses walks by. The most honest people are young children and drunk adults. When a young person stops dead in their tracks and just stares at PP, it makes everyone weird. In a way, it's nice. I like that little kids can show their emotions without a filter. Bring it on, babies. It's refreshing from the veiled conversations and practiced expressions I encounter with your parents.

Regardless of how it makes me feel, I still bring PP to the park every day. It may not be the same one every day, but you don't encounter the same people every day anyways. I don't really want to encounter the same people every day. Most of them are assholes. The most important thing to me is the success of PP. Even if it means putting myself last in every situation. PP doesn't notice the weird looks. She doesn't understand the passing comments people make. The only thing PP knows about is having fun. Consequently, PP having fun is always at the top of my list. It's a good indicator for knowing that I am being the best mommy for PP. This reason is why going to the park tops my list of favorite things to do. I think that one very, very valuable lesson I can teach PP is to build a callous, to be tolerant of nasty people. I did it when I was a kid, and I didn't have a quarter of the problems PP is faced with. I survived, and so will PP.

You don't have to be friends with everyone!

No matter how nasty one person can be, the next person may be just as sweet and understanding. This hasn't really been my experience thus far, but I can't poo-poo on everyone. It's more of a 1:4 ratio of nice to naughty. I don't want to give PP an inherent notion of hating society though. It takes a large amount of personal experience to make an educated decision in that area. As much as I would like to stay home all day and send Papa Chris out to do our bidding, it's just not feasible. So I put on my happy face and hope that people can refrain from being a jackass. I always end up having a wonderful time with my daughter despite what anyone says or does. Dealing with Normies is a fact of life. Needn't I remind all of you Normies, dealing with us Weirdos is a fact of life as well. Respect is something everyone deserves, even if you are a disgusting human being.

You don't have to be completely comfortable with it, but please try to exercise your ability to be accepting, respectful, and socially graceful. Everyone will reap the benefits.

Well, I just had a Cheez-it fight with Chris. I think that about calls it a night.

cheez-it fights and late nights

XoX