Musings from an Orthodox Jewish work at home mom of twins with Autism Spectrum Disorders.

Bar Mitzvah Stuff

We ended up doing… NOTHING.  No Kiddush, no party, no invites.  It was the best thing for our son and it was the best thing for our current situation.  Our son didn’t have a massive meltdown upon realizing he was the center of attention and there was a crowd, and none of the riff raff who make it their job to harass my husband knew when and where our son would be called to the Torah and there was no free food for them to come crash our Simcha.  So our Simcha was QUIET.  Just the people who daven at our shul anyway.  Fred was called to the Torah for his Aliyah, the men  sang to him for about 2 minutes, and we moved on with our lives.  I’m incredibly depressed that we couldn’t throw a shindig and yet so incredibly grateful.  I mean the truth is that we could have thrown an invite only party NOT at a shul that wasn’t announced in newsletters just like Wilma’s, but you can see why I was gun shy to do that based on what happened at HER party.  If a double meltdown ran down HER party, kol v’chomer it would most certainly run down HIS.  He certainly didn’t care about a party.

We did GO  to a Bar Mitzvah recently.  The baalas Simcha promised us that a certain person wouldn’t be there.  Not only was he there, he was given an honor.  The baalas Simcha promised us that her son’s classmates wouldn’t be there (they live in the “other neighborhood”).  My husband literally spent Shabbos morning counting bochurim and noticing how many came from the other neighborhood— he got to be called a retard manager, and when he yelled at a few boys for on purpose knocking right into our son, he was yelled at by the certain person mentioned above (who, by the way, finally invited us to leave our city— I was wondering when he’d “kick us out” of here).  Wilma stayed home.  She NEVER goes to shul on Shabbos morning anymore and she NEVER even gets out of her pajamas on Shabbos.  She takes at LEAST two naps each Shabbos.  (we tested her thyroid and vitamin levels—-  I’m guessing it’s just the 8 thousand meds she’s now on).  Fred did come with us.  Hubby went on time, and I took Fred around 9:45— Fred is able to walk quietly into the men’s section, find my husband, and do great during davening.  And then  there was a Kiddush.  Oh how I hate Kiddushim.  Let the record show we tried.  Kiddushim bring out the very worst in people.  So about ten minutes into the Kiddush my son is crying, having a massive nosebleed and yelling curse words in the bathroom.  A Rebbe (who KNOWS Fred has autism) admonished my husband for not disciplining Fred.  If discipline worked with Fred’s cursing or aggression or meltdowns or ANYTHING, don’t you think we would have tried it?  So yeah, we won’t bring Fred back to a Kiddush for a long long time.  None of us ate at the Kiddush or enjoyed it but I think we get brownie points from the Baalei Simcha for being there.

Here’s hoping we don’t get invited to another Bar Mitzvah in our city anytime soon and if we are, we’re smart enough to leave our kid(s) at home and my husband is smart enough to wear blinders and earplugs so he doesn’t have to hear or see anything.  And yes, of course, we had the moving discussion again.  And again.  And again.

Comments on: "Bar Mitzvah Stuff" (1)

  1. Yocheved A said:

    It just breaks my heart to hear that your families are suffering from such horrible people. How did they grow up to be so awful? Where was the middos in their schools? Where were their parents? All I can say, is that you couldn’t pay me enough to stand in their shoes at 120. IMHO, they are the ones who are truly handicapped, if they can’t see how mean they are being.

    Mazel tov on Fred’s bar mitzva. You are a good mama, and you gave him exactly what he needed. Of course you mourn the child you don’t have (Welcome to Holland), but the fact that you had a day with a minimum of meltdowns is a major victory.

    I hope the perfect community opens up to you soon, in a clear and revealed way, and you can move easily. {{{ hugs }}}

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