I must purge myself of a mother's overprotective outrage. It is probably stupid and meaningless, but the feeling remains; so I blog.
We live in a nice family oriented suburb of Houston, complete with two car garages, beautifully green lawns peppered with pine trees that stretch to the sky. Our children take full advantage of the outdoors. We have a fort and swing set in the back yard. We live on a cul-de-sac, so traffic is of little concern while they ride their bikes. Our house is the gathering place for all the neighborhood kids to play. On any given day, the sounds of children echo from the back yard, front yard, and through the halls of our home as they run in and out for bathroom and drink breaks.
My oldest son, Joshua, has severe ADHD and highly functioning autism. This means he talks rather loudly, off topic, and very animatedly. We are just glad he talks with other children at this point. He used to be a recluse. He was self-conscious and disliked all forms of social activity. He also hated to be outdoors because the sights, sounds, smells, and feel of things outside overloaded his senses. He becomes over stimulated quickly. Last year, he would never touch grass, dirt, ride his bike, or play on a swing. He has improved by leaps and bounds this past year through behavior therapy and medication. Watching him relate to peers, dive in the grass, and express enthusiasm is the greatest blessing to my heart.
Our backyard shares a fence with posh townhouses that line the streets behind our home. Most of these townhouses are occupied by retirees with money or yuppie collegiates. The commonality between them being their lack of children and affinity for quiet.
My children only play outside until dinner time. By 6:00 pm, good-byes have been said, toys picked up, and washing commenced. The only sounds outside by this time are created by the squirrels jumping on roofs, possums climbing through bushes, and our townhouse neighbor's large barking dog.
Yesterday, the retired lady who lives behind us paid a friendly visit. (We will hence forth refer to her as Ann, annoying neighbor nuisance.) Ann rang our doorbell at 6:30 pm, well after outdoor play time, to introduce us to her visiting grandchildren. She wanted to know if they could join in the playing and raucous at our house tomorrow, as there are no other children on their retired, yuppie street. Of course, my children were delighted to have more friends join in the games. While she was here, Joshua expressed his delight in his usually animated and boisterous style.
"Oh, so you are the child that is so loud," Ann declared to Joshua. "You don't know how to talk quietly, do you?"
"I am the 8 year old! (bubbly laughter) I am in second grade and the oldest, the big brother," he rambunctiously responded.
"Well, my husband was trying to sleep the other day and the college girl upstairs was sick, and you kept them awake. You are just too loud," Ann ridiculed.
"I am sorry about that. Joshua is quite loud at times when he is enjoying himself. After all, most children are. If he bothers your husband again, feel free to let me know, and I will address my son," I said, while biting my tongue through a patronizing smile.
Ann's grandchildren did not come over to play today. My son, Jakob, cried because he thought they didn't like him. Joshua worried that something bad had happened to them. Rachel was confused when she saw them through the window while she was perched in the fort.
Am I just an overprotective mother? Was it incredibly rude of Ann to address my son in that way? Could she not have had a private conversation with me about Joshua? Aren't children playing outside allowed to run, scream, yell, and be, well, children? Was her whole visit a pretense to discipline my son? Would she be more understanding if I explained Joshua's situation? Can her husband buy some sort of "white noise" device to drown out the sounds of children at play? Is Ann just too uptight and grouchy?