Dear Nosy Nancy, STFU, and MYOB!

Dear Nosy Nancy, STFU, and MYOB!

Earlier you accused me of hitting my child in a pizzeria. 

I have no idea what in the f*** you thought you saw, but you don’t know sh!t. Next time you should STFU and MYOB…but, If you must know…this is how our day went. 

My daughter barged into our room around 5 am and climbed into our bed. It got crowded quickly and she watched Mickey Mouse Clubhouse while we closed our eyes and tried to sleep. 

Her usual sass began around noon as it became time to get ready for school. She hates her new bus driver and refused to get on the bus without her sunglasses on. 

I surprised her with a happy meal today when she got home and it was devoured in less than ten minutes. 

She rubbed her eyes and I tried to put her down for a nap but she refused. Instead, she stressed out about her constipation. Constipation contributed mainly to her medication and diet. She finally went and then it was time for her karate class.

We picked up her friend and the kids complained they were hungry. Kids are always hungry. 

They went to karate. 

Then we went out for pizza with my friend and her son afterward. The kids started bickering before we sat down. My friend and I sat there saying how at least they are using their words. 

And then it happened as it always does. Ally snapped.

She swiped his water bottle off of the table and screamed. I was covered in water and the rest hit the floor. I sternly asked her to sit down, quiet mouth, and finish her pizza. 

Her sassy mouth continued spewing fresh comments and banter to herself and she tried to torment her friend. We ignored her. 

When her kicking started up again, I took away her lollipop from karate and directed her to finish her pizza. When she got out of her seat, I went and picked her up by her arms and put her back and firmly told her to sit there and calm down. 

Normally when she is mean, she is easily re-directed to, “try again—say something kind.” But she didn’t. She said mean things. And I told her she was a mean girl. That she was so mean to her friend that he didn’t even want to sit near her anymore—hoping the visual of that would process in her little head. 

I removed everything in sight that she could swipe from the table the way I did when we were at home while she kicked her shoes off. I picked them up and put them back on her. 

She continued crying and shouting and muttered, “my arm.” This is something she does to divert attention, to manipulate me from disciplining her to sympathizing with her. 

It is an attention-seeking behavior.  I ignored it. Because that is what you do when you are managing a child with autism after all of the ABA and behavior plans this kid has. Oh yes, did you hear that part? The part where she is nothing like the kids that you raised because she has autism! I don’t know you Nosy Nancy but I am 99.9% sure that you don’t know sh!t about raising and disciplining a kid on the spectrum!

But anyway, when she couldn’t settle down, I gathered our things to leave.  That’s when nosy Nancy intervened. She said that I should stop hitting my child so she could settle down. That she was acting that way because I hit her. 

Stunned, I was like—Excuse me? When did I hit my child?

Nosy Nancy: I watched you hit her. 

Me: Maybe you should fuck off lady. 

Nosy Nancy: I should call DCFS on you!

My friend: Mind your damn business!

And we left. 

I had a night of following through on my threats of no TV time and no toys while trying to talk about what happened in fifteen different ways to get through to my child on how to behave in public.

Meanwhile you think you are some kind of savior for commenting on something you could never understand.

So seriously Nosy Nancy, STFU and MYOB!

Published by mischiefmomma

Mischief Momma was started in 2016 to write about the playful truths of parenting and life. In 2017, MM began to focus more on writing about parenting and life on the spectrum and raising her daughter and stepson. She writes about the joys, humor, and struggles of raising children who are different, and navigating obstacles like childcare, education, and work. This mom writes about her journey upward after hitting rock bottom.

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