Dear Judgmental Diner,
You probably don’t remember me or my family. Your judgement of us was swift and mater-of-fact. “We will never let our kids out of the house with a costume on,” you declared to your husband as you nodded our direction. That was that. You would never allow your future, hypothetical children to be seen in a Halloween costume outside of the season. I’m sure you went on about your day without a second thought about the stormtrooper sitting in the booth eating his lunch.
And, I get it. I do. I have said similar things in the past. Back when I also had future, hypothetical children. Back before I had present, real children. Back before I started to notice that one of those children was a little bit different than most kids his age. Back before the doctors sent us to a psychologist. You see, it’s easy to make judgements when you are not really in the situation, because all you see is a kid wearing a Halloween costume. But thats not what I see.
You see a kid walking into a restaurant wearing a mask and cape, I see a kid who this morning was jumping up and down on the sofa, as he so often does now, to avoid taking his costume off to put actual clothes on. This kid loves his Captain Phasma costume. However he find social interaction very overwhelming, and wearing the costume is his way to feel more secure when he has to communicate. So, while you see a kid walking in with a mask on, I see a kid with clothes on.
You see a kid ignoring his family and playing games. I see a kid whose mom dragged him to a local park this morning for family pictures that he didn’t want to do. Getting ready for pictures, that kid found a slide where he could go down so fast again and again that it made those few intermittent seconds of joy help him forget about having to communicate. But he couldn’t. He had to sit still, smile, and make eye contact, which is not very comfortable or exciting. But he did it. So, while you see a kid ignoring his parents, I see a kid who cooperated with family pictures for a whole hour.
You see a not talking, or when he does its loud audible screeches that you can't understand. You see a kid that is whining to get something instead of asking calmly and clearly like a child his age should. You see he doesn't wear a costume because he thinks it's fun and cool. Him pretending to be spider man, with a full on suite and mask, gives him confidence to talk to a stranger. The stranger that still needs for the parents to translate what he is saying because at 5 years old you should be able to understand him. So while you see a kid being a pain in the butt and crying for everything, I see a kid who for the first time said a sentence with more than 4 words in it. A kid that is doing his best to express what he wants in a situation that involves communicating exactly what he wants.
You see a kid ignoring the food on his plate and watching videos. I see a kid who waited patiently for 30 minutes to be sat at a cramped table and wait for his food, only to be disappointed and unable to eat because the food on his plate was grilled chicken breast instead of fried chicken tenders. Could he eat it? Sure. Does it taste the same? Pretty much. But it’s new, and it’s scary, and it might taste funny. So he won't eat it. He will be hungry until we get home to his familiar food that tastes, smells, and looks like he is used to. So while you see a kid who is not eating, I see a kid who is very hungry and waiting to eat at home.
You see a kid ignoring all social interaction at the table. I see a kid who is doing a great job holding it together and not melting down. Because just one of these things today could have made for a really bad day for this little guy. But all of them together? That would sure send him into a full-scale, nuclear meltdown. But it didn’t. He is holding it together. You know why he is holding it together? Because those brightly colored characters in the videos on that phone he is so focused on are just enough stimulation that he can “zone out” and not think about all those other things that are bothering him; the t-shirt that is so tight it could choke him, the energy building up inside of him just waiting to explode, that rumbling in his hungry tummy so noisy you could likely hear it at the next table. You see a kid that is ignoring everything else, and I do too, but I also see that everything else is so overwhelming for that kid this morning, that it’s ok for him to block it all out and concentrate on that tiny 3 inch screen to make it through a family lunch.
So, Ms. Diner, please remember next time you see a kid zoned out on electronics during a family meal that, although your future, hypothetical children may be perfect, that kid at the next table may just be doing an awesome job at not having a nuclear meltdown at the table and that him zoning out is all he can do to keep it together.
