Arm's Length

In my relief at the outcome of Sabina's opthalmology appointment, I forgot to mention one interesting detail of our visit: we ran into an old friend. If you have more than the requisite 2.5 children or if some of your children could not conceivably (groan) have been born to you, then you may already know my friend.  She (sometimes it's a man, but 90% of the time it's a woman) hangs out in doctor's office waiting rooms, in the post office, or in restaurants.  She's at the bus stop, perhaps on the bus itself, or, if you're especially unlucky, she lives next door.  She's a lonely woman, perhaps an older woman, and views the arrival of you and your children as the circus coming to town. 

Since two of your children have the audacity to have been born to other women, and two of them (interestingly enough, not the same two) have fewer arms than the average person, this lady feels that makes them the World's Children.  They are her business--she's sure of it--and she will "set a spell" to stare at them, or ask them questions.  You and your husband, though dashing and attractive in your own ways, are not really Angelina and Brad, which means you have no entourage to step between you and this overly-curious woman who does not see herself for who she truly is: a stranger.

When she and our family first met, it was at a sandwich shop in Glendale, WI.  LB and I only had five children at the time, and none of them were really old enough to "get" the idea that other families do not look like ours.  A woman eating alone at the table next to ours took a chair and pulled it up to just outside our table--not so close that she was eating with us, but too close that one could say she was not eating with us.  Now, being the sort of woman who makes Dr. House look like a people-person, I asked her, with no small amount of chill in my voice, May I help you?  She looked at me as if I were the one crossing social boundaries and said, slowly and with the slight exasperation one might use when speaking to the cognitively impaired, No, I'm just watching.  I said, Look, we're just trying to eat our lunch, here.

That was the day I learned that Stranger-lady may start out smiling, but will turn on you like a rabid weasel at the slightest provocation.  I was treated to a lot of finger waggling and a lecture on etiquette, my tone, and how she was just being friendly and admiring my family.

The next time I saw her, we were all having brunch at a restaurant in Port Washington, WI.  This time she was a woman in her 80's who wanted to know, "which ones were ours."  LB gave the PC answer of, they're all ours, and she said, annoyed, You know what I mean.  Like him (pointing at Dana).  Is he a foster child or what?

At the opthalmologist's office the other day while Sabina and I were in the exam room, the stranger-woman chatted up my four middle children (Olive was at school) before her appointment, had her own vision checked, returned to find my children still present, and sat back in the waiting room to chat them up some more.  When Sabina and I returned, the children were visibly uneasy, having spent twenty minutes in the gray area of answering the questions of a stranger who didn't seem to know that children are generally taught not to speak to strangers. 

While I was scheduling Sabina's next appointment, Stranger-lady told me which of my children preferred carrots to broccoli, which ones didn't like vegetables at all, and how one of my children--she wasn't going to tell me which one--thought she'd probably grow up to be smarter than me.  She proudly told me the names of our pets, how long we'd lived in this town, and where we lived before.  My first thought at these moments is always of Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lechter, advising Jody Foster-- when he'd had quite enough of that day's interrogation -- Fly away now little starling, fly, fly.

This time I just smiled and pretended I liked the idea of a stranger prodding my children.  I've learned there's nothing to be gained in pissing her off.

At this point, some of you may be taking Stranger-lady's side.  After all, we must have known our family would stand out a bit.  Shouldn't we expect people to notice us and have questions?  If anything, we should be using these social invasions opportunities to educate others on international and special-needs adoption.  We did know what we were doing, and we did go into the process understanding there'd be lots of times when The World would not be able to resist the desire to pry.  Yes, we did sign on for this.

But our children did not.

Comments

[Heather P.]

OH my HOLY CATS!!
I think I would be sure to tell the kids that they are eating broccoli and liver for breakfast, lunch and dinner if they ever talk to any old biddies at the doctors office again. ;)

[Dixie]

I wish we could have lunch together sometime. We could spend the whole time exchanging stories like that one. In my story, just substitute an older, large, white woman and two small ethnically different babies, different from me and from each other. Oh the questions and the opinions!!! Although the lady in front of me in Starbucks recently who paid for my coffee gets a "pass".

[Irma]

That lady exists and I've met her many times.The good thing is that she's beginning to fade and by the time your children are your age she will no longer be there.

[Beth]

I just don't know how you hold your tongue when you run into this time and again. Granted, giving them a piece of your mind would not get them to change their ways.

It would never occur to me to pry into a situation that was clearly none of my business. I guess that's why it shocks me that others apparently did not have the same home-training as I.

[Tamara]

No sympathy for Stranger-Lady here! Only sympathetic congratulations to you and your children for managing to be so civil.

[Leslie]

Oh, I've met her several times, too - what a joy. My favorite is being asked if we "did this to be like Angelina Jolie". Honestly. The temptation to ask if they had their biological children to "be like Britney Spears" is barely held in check. Sorry your kids had to put up with her - again.

[Catherine]

Any chance of teaching your kids to shout "Help! Police!" when some busybody starts asking more questions than they are comfy with?

Or teach them to say "I sorry, I no speak English" in a heavy accent?

Or could they ask the busybody if they believe in a personal Satan?

Or just say, "Our Mum has tuaght us to mind our own business"?

I agree about the futility of going off at them; they are usually beyond changing their behaviour, and just think they're being friendly.

Sigh

[suse]

I actually burst out laughing at the idea that a woman pulled her chair up to your lunch table and then announced that she was just watching. How bizarre are some people?! Rude, thoughtless and just downright BIZARRE.

I used to meet Stranger Lady too occasionally, when Son #3 was newly born and I was out and about with three little boys in tow. She'd say IN FRONT OF THEM things like "Oh poor you! Three boys!" and "Bet you wish you had a girl" etc. I can only begin to imagine how much bolder/ruder she is when confronted with children who are (shock!) another colour, or (horror!) differently abled.

Sheesh.

[Badger]

Dude. Two words: PEPPER SPRAY. No one will ever be able to prove that canister didn't go off accidentally, is all I'm saying.

[Debbie]

We get it all the time! "Are they ALL yours??"

Uh, duh, "no, I thought I'd pick up a few extras to take grocery shopping because we all know how much fun it is to shop with kids along."

You handled it very well.

[blackbird]

What? I'm sure she was just being "nice." Right?
SURE.

[Chesty Larue]

Thoughtless people are everywhere, aren't they? Back when I was having regular MS flare-ups and would stagger around like I was drunk with my balance all wacky, I would get lots of well-meaning strangers who would tell me I shouldn't be "taking your babies out while in this condition."

I usually thanked them and said that MS was a bitch. That was usually enough to shut them up. God bless remission.

[Susan]

This lady sure does get around. We've met her often. Usually at all-you-can-devour buffets (which is where it is easiest to feed a large family, since they've outlawed troughs for children).

[Tamara]

I like Badger's suggestion.

So, is it ever o-kay to strike up conversations with people, especially children-people? (Here in the South, we do it all the time. I would hate to lose the friendliness, but good Lord, what if I've been freaking parents out?!) I always look to the parents for permission before I address their children, and try not to make it a habit to say insulting things. (When I was a tiny infant with both legs in casts because they came out crooked, people would give my mom such dirty looks, she said. Actually, some people look at me like that for breast-feeding my little guy!)

Anyone care to take this up? (she said nervously)

[Jen]

Tamara; I think it's all a matter of the type of conversation you strike up. Chat about the weather, or a simple hello is one thing. Asking personal questions or asking rapid-fire questions of children whose parents are not present is quite another.