GENGAR STYLE

I’m calling G because we are at a big, kid-filled birthday party and the dj is playing “Gangnam Style,” which he loves. He calls his version of the song and dance “Gengar Style,” after a naughty, levitating Shadow Type Pokemon called Gengar.* He’s way out on the playground with some kids he doesn’t know and, between calls to him to come boogie with me, I hear those loud “eeeeeh” noises that he makes sometimes because he likes them -- and other times because he’s socially overwhelmed. I hurry over and he’s progressed to shouting unintelligible sounds and making faces in the general direction of a play structure. Some younger kids are cowering and glowering nearby.

“What happened?” I ask, pulling him away as fast as I can.

“A girl threatened me.”

“How?”

“She told me she was going to beat me up!”

“That little girl with the sour face, who is much, much smaller than you?”

“Yes.” (G tends not to pay attention to his own size or age relative to others.)

I sigh, hug him. “She couldn’t, honey.”

“But she said she had beat up a 15 year old!”

“But baby, that’s not true. She’s a little girl.”

We pause. He’s probably taking in the fact that here again someone has lied and he has been unaware of that possibility.

“Well…Why?” I continue.

“Why what?”

“Why do you think that happened?”

Another pause.

“Because she said I was ‘in her face?’”

“Were you?”

“Yes.”

“Were you trying to threaten her?”

“No!”

The playground is a place where family and friends who know G in his home or social comfort zone often suddenly realize the extent of his social challenges.  Putting his face right in someone else’s face is one way he tries to connect, because he really does want to connect - so very much! He’s still figuring out other ways to do so, and in the meantime doesn’t seem to have integrated extensive advice against face-in-face.

I try to seize the teachable moment: “How do you think she felt when you got in her personal space, you know, ‘in her face’?”

“Mad?”

“I don’t think so…try again.”

“Angry?”

“Try again. Angry and mad are pretty much the same.”

“Threatened?”

“Yes. So I bet that’s why she threatened you, don’tcha think?”

He nods.

“And G, did you notice all those kids were much younger than you?”

"Not really.”

“They probably thought you were being a bully, G. Which of course you weren’t.”

G is the most gentle person I know, but he’s a really big dude with no idea of his own size or the impression it might give. 

I sigh. Again. “Oh sweety, I know you’d never want to scare anyone. But you have to try to think about whether other kids are bigger or smaller than you and what they might think you mean in your actions and words, okay? Do you think you can remember this next time?”

“I don’t know,” G says, shrugging.

By the time we reach the party shed, the song has ended. G goes in and sits back in a corner alone, looking perplexed. Eventually, some extra cupcake frosting comforts and cheers him up.

Sometimes G is served well by his unique neurology. His omnipresent honesty, truly original creativity, staunch reliability, deep loyalty and lack of regard for conventional measures of success or “coolness” are just a few traits that come to mind in this regard. I know he takes satisfaction in living by what he deems right and good. Those of us who “get” him celebrate his living by his own lights as well. Nevertheless, even these arguably superb qualities are not necessarily ones that lead to mainstream social acceptance!

Of course there’s neurologically-rooted stuff to work on too, like developing the tools to navigate playground dynamics, many of which are analogous to adult social milieus. It just sometimes seems the neurotypical world currently remains more inclined to marginalize both G’s particular gifts and his challenges than to celebrate or accommodate them.

Suppose G – because, as things stand, it’ll be on him to do so - takes a very long time to adapt here, what is the adult equivalent of frosting?

Oh yeah. Frosting. **

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

* OMG I Just found this site: http://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Gengar_(Pok%C3%A9mon).

Please, nobody show G – I will never see him again!

** We have a hunch that Pumpkin Pie may work, too and are going to find out next week! Happy Thanksgiving everybody!!!!

First Anniversary Lists IV: The Complaint Department

Our Guest Writer, Partial/incomplete Monochrome Persona from The Complaint Department, has been working hard to bring you this list.  Warning: Partial/incomplete Monochrome Persona, or PiMP for short, has compiled and macro-infested the bitterest and snarkiest elements of Full Spectrum Mama’s first year, many of which Full Spectrum Mama might not even have noticed, saintly as she is.

1.     The Make-Your-Own-Problems Division.

We make most of our own problems. The Complaint Department suggests you unmake – or contend gracefully with – such self-created problems.

Therefore, The Complaint Department maintains a strict non-acceptance policy in its Make-Your-Own-Problems Division.

2.     Bullies.

Yuck.

Can you believe bullies are real? Grown-up bullies, too! Solo-style, as well as Group Models, including Mean (Old) Girls (and Boys), Institutional and Family-Pak…

Children who bully often learn to do so at home. Watch out for their parents.

Those in the school-disability-“special education” worlds who bully often do so from budget and staff frustrations. See if you can get through the armor to the love of children that brought them there in the first place. Bonne chance!

But, okay, sure. Complaints about bullies are acceptable during regular business hours.

3.     Sorry.

Say you’re sorry. No, PiMP does not care what happened OR whose fault it is and don’t Make The Complaint Department have to Pull This Car Over.

Oops! Sorry, wrong medium.

4.     Help.

If you have a partner, if you have a babysitter once a week, if you have a choice between working and not working (vs. those who must work), do not complain about not having any help. The Complaint Department knows far too many struggling single working parents to accept complaints in this area.

      a. Have some perspective, people.

5.     Snacks.

There is a required ten-minute minimum time-lapse between the asking for of the snacks.

Furthermore: If, sequentially, you have asked for and received, a banana, a cheese stick, a clementine, a yogurt squeezer, a bowl of cheddar bunnies, a granola bar, baby carrots and hummus, and raisins and nuts and an apple, that is enough.

6.     Money.

If you have never spent weeks worrying over running out of toothpaste, or had to choose between

a.     raiding those expired bags and cans at the back of the cupboard and paying for heat, or

b.     going grocery shopping,

do not complain about money.

Except, perhaps, to others of your ilk - but definitely check their ilk to be sure.

Yes, we at The Complaint Department know that you say things like, “We’re all struggling right now” to express a sense of, “Wow, I get it,” but that’s just trifling.

You know who gets it? PiMP and her friend over here who both just bought one bag of cotton candy even though we each have two children because those bad boys cost FOUR DOLLARS.

Please see 4.a.

                  The Complaint Department will only accept complaints about money from those with a  
                  generously allotted income limit of $30,000 and below. (F.Y.I.: it is remarkably easy to
                  join this select group, albeit exponentially harder to leave.) Most other complaints about
                  money will be deemed to fall under Rule 1, above.

7.     Children.

                  If you have mentally and physically healthy, neurotypical children, do not complain about them under most circumstances.

In particular, you shall not complain about them to people who have no children, whether by choice or via “the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune."

Nor shall you complain about them to people who have children who have issues of health, learning differences, disabilities, sensory or social issues or other significant differences or impairments…

If you must complain, then kindly preface your complaint with, “Praise the universe, I am very lucky to have such an easy life compared to the lives of those with harder lives” (which will probably be answered with “Praise the universe, I am very lucky to have the child/life etc. that I have…” BUT the preface should still be uttered as a preventative measure).

And please see 4.a.

8.    Speculation and Normalcy.

The Complaint Department thinks everyone is REAL SPECIAL. How did they get that way? We do not know. How should you act around them? Ditto.

Our affiliate, Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg has formulated some great models around dealing with people. Here’s one: http://www.disabilityandrepresentation.com/2013/01/28/how-to-talk-to-normal-people-a-guide-for-the-rest-of-us/

9.     Special Dispensations. 

True Friends, Wise Ones, Elders, Those Who Get It, Family Members from Group A,* and, generally, people who don’t take themselves all that seriously or are seriously cute (such as some children) are not subject to the above Complaint Department Guidelines.

Now that The Complaint Department has brought you this exhaustive list, The Complaint Department is closed. The Complaint Department will re-open on the 32^nd of Nevruary.**

Sincerely,

Partial/incomplete Monochrome Persona

* Family Group A is a generic term for certain members of all families and consists of non-offensive family members.

** Thanks to Uncle G. Fullalove (Family Group A+) for introducing the Full Spectrum family to this convenient date.