Tuesday, July 27, 2010

who am I these days?

So since I've been away from blog-land for so long, I feel like this is an opportunity for me to re-focus on what I want this blog to be, the kind of things I want to post about, etc. And since I live such a thrilling, exotic lifestyle (wanna buy the Brooklyn Bridge?), I've got lots of amazing stuff to write about on a daily basis. ;)

Stuff like:

college, Part Deux
autism/Asperger Syndrome
ADHD
Music Therapy
preemies/preeclampsia
couponing (a new obsession...you'd be amazed!)
politics (progressive and proud of it!)
music
sports
Facebook

....and other scintillating, fascinating details of my daily life.

Today, my rant of the moment is about Facebook, which I have an intimate love affair with (and my 663 "friends"). I'm all into the whole "freedom to post and say what you want" part of FB, but occasionally I wish some of the people there would just think for half of a freaking second before they click "comment" and put their random/hurtful/prejudiced/judgmental/mean thoughts into written form. Others have just as much right to express their opinions as I do, but let's remember something, guys: There's a person, a living, breathing human behind each keyboard, and they have feelings. You may or may not really know that person, but she exists. (no, sitting beside her in sophomore World History in 1987 doesn't really count, but don't tell that to the 663).

I posted a few days ago on the wall of little E's new teacher for this school year. I heart her already, she is going to be a great fit for him this year, so saith the Mommy Instinct. Before last year ended, she'd responded positively to my request to have a brief meeting with her about Energizer over the summer. Experience has shown me that it is good for all concerned to fill the teachers in about my boys before the new year starts....saves everyone a lot of heartache as well as the need to re-invent the wheel every time. He's on meds, he sees a counselor, he has 2 different private therapists, he has a 504 plan, etc etc etc, and she needs to know all of this.

So, like the innocent, naive dummy that I am, I had the audacity to post on her wall and ask to look at a time for this quick meeting about E. Little did I know that I would be pounced on by people who don't know me or my children, but are "friends" of the teacher and are disturbed by the idea of meeting with a parent during the summer. Oh, and did I mention that one of these commenters is a former principal? Such lovely phrases as:

"...but they are just your careers, not your families, not your lives."

or

"You should NOT meet with parents over the summer! There is plenty of time to do that during the year. The summer needs to be for you and your family.. The only kids you should focus on are your own!!!!!!!!!"

Pardon me? EXCUSE ME? Just who do you think you're talking to? You obviously haven't seen my teaching certificate or my 14 years of experience in the field. You must have missed my wedding to another teacher, with 16 years in the classroom to his credit. I'm pretty sure I taught more students in my first 3 or 4 years than you have EVER taught, Ms. "Administrator". And bless your heart, you must never have had the privilege of being a parent of special needs kids, or knowing the unforgettable thrill of having the school office call you to say that your child choked another student hard enough to leave marks.

So let's just leave it at this. YOU DON'T KNOW ME, OR MY CHILDREN. Until you've held my boys and cried along with them during a meltdown, until you've had to give stimulant meds to your 4 year old, until you've spent 17 weeks at your children's bedsides in the NICU, until you've had to pick up your very big, very heavy son off of the ground in a public place during an Asperger's "moment", you'd better keep your self-righteous opinions to yourself. Step off, as they say, get the hell over yourself and stay out of my business.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...
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Floortime Lite Mama said...

People are such strange strange birds really !!!
Sorry to hear about this bad experience