Archive | September 2012

Parking insanity

So, across the street from where I work lives a family with an adult handicapped daughter. I suspect she has Cerebral Palsy, but they kind of keep her hidden away, so I’ve never met her. Oh, and they don’t really talk about her, except to wish her fate on unborn children of people who annoy them – and they are easily annoyed. (It was bad enough when they did it to me, but saying “I hope your child ends up like my daughter” to a woman in her last trimester just isn’t cool in my book).

Anyway, it’s pretty obvious from the above that I don’t really like these people (the parents, that is. Obviously, I have no issue with the daughter, as I haven’t met her)

*By the way, this is more of a rant than a dilemma*

These people have a disabled parking space for their van in front of their apartment building. This is an absolute necessity, as there is a parking problem in the area, and I completely respect that. Except… One day, I was running a little late for work, and I parked in the space in front of theirs. Being somewhat preoccupied, I didn’t notice that my rear bumper had passed their “no parking” sign by about two inches. It is important to note that their car was already parked in their spot and I wasn’t blocking it in any way, nor was I impeding access to any doors or ramps. So, this woman who I had never met before starts screaming at me, swearing at me, cursing my unborn children and insisting that I move my car.

*Please bear in mind that, if she had just come up to me and politely pointed out my error and asked me to move my car, I would have done so willingly and gladly, and apologized . And, by the way, I moved it anyway, but I did ask her to be more polite in the future.*

So, childishly, ever since then, whenever I find that parking spot, I try to park as close as possible to the sign without actually passing it.

…..

These people also have a second car, just a normal car, that they also park in front of their building. They rarely move it, so it’s usually in the same spot – a tight spot between the neighbors’ garage entrance and their own wheelchair ramp. This is not a designated spot, so it happens that sometimes, while they’re gone, someone else will park there. Generally, people are very careful not to block the ramp – I mean, you see a handicapped parking space and a wheelchair ramp, you’d have to be a major @ss to block it, right? – but these guys get really ticked off when anybody parks there.

So, I get to work today and notice that the city has painted a huge yellow square around the ramp, extending about a foot and a half past it on the side where they park their normal car. Neighborhood gossip is that they demanded that the city do this, ostensibly to protect access to their ramp, but really to make the space between the yellow square and the neighbors’ garage entrance too small for a car to fit. Mean-spirited gossip you might say. But their second car was parked right over half of this square, and about half a foot of their ramp!

Oh, by the way, this girl’s disabilities (again, according to the neighbors) are strictly physical. I can’t imagine how she must feel hearing her mother use her as a curse, like hers is the worst fate you could wish on someone…

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Superheroes and Sidekicks

So, a lot of bloggers who have special needs children refer to them as “Superheroes”. I get that, I think. They are trying to express how hard their children have to work to do many things most parents take for granted. Having said that, it does sound as if their children are better than “normal” ones. That somehow, being disabled makes them worth more: more time, more attention, more money, favourable discrimination somehow. But where does this leave their normally-developing children? 

Some of these mommies don’t write too much about them. They tend to mention them in passing, usually in relation to their special “superhero” child. They post “interviews” with them, where nearly every question is about their sibling. Some of them do devote as  much space to them and seem to balance their attention a little. But something I came across recently really incensed me. 

She called her other child a sidekick. A sidekick! A SIDEKICK!!! 

The superhero and the sidekick. The main star and the one delegated to a supporting role. Nowhere near as important. 

A sidekick. Just because he doesn’t have to try so hard for everything. Worth less.

Listen lady, being the NT sibling of a SN child is not easy. They usually get less attention from their parents, their achievements are often glossed over while their sibling is praised for every.little.thing. They often feel the burden of their parents’ expectation to take care of their sibling when the parents die. No matter how much we might wish it otherwise, they have to deal with discrimination from their peers – friends often don’t want to come to their house to play, parents often won’t let them form friendships with peers that refuse to include the SN sibling… tip of the iceberg. And many of them have trouble finding life partners willing to carry the burden of the superhero sibling.

*Sigh*

Sidekicks…

These kids are just as entitled to be called superheroes as their special siblings…