e-mail #fail

*

*

I knew it the moment I’d hit send. I don’t know how I knew, I just knew. You know those moments? When you just know?

I scrambled to get to my Sent Items file to check.

The circle spun.

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. Faster!

The phone froze.

Damn it.

Please, please, please, please let me be wrong.

Please, please, please, please.

The screen came up.

Oh.

Sh-t.

Noooooooooooo!

**

It all started when I read THIS, an adorable post by Varda over at Squashed Bologna about her son with autism inserting the words ‘poopy head’ into the song Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. She writes about her NT son having taught the phrase to his brother and how he had then inserted it into their favorite lullaby. Good stuff. And hauntingly familiar.

Years ago, when Katie was little and Brooke was even littler, Katie made up her own nonsensical version of that song. Always one for extra credit, her version not only contained the strikingly similar phrase ‘Poopoo head’ but also, inexplicably, a reference to Kelly Clarkson. I believe the exact phrasing was, ‘Kelly Clarkson who are you, now it’s time for a poopoo head.” Right. Makes a mother so proud.

Of course she taught it to her sister. And you might recall that Brooke’s speech development was echolalic, so she was quick to repeat (and repeat and repeat and repeat) anything she’d heard, particularly in the form of a song. To this day, it remains a standard in the house.

So I called Luau on my way to work and asked if perhaps he could find a minute before dropping the kids off, if he could record Brooke singing the song so that I could share it with Varda. And he’s all sorts of awesome, so he did. He sent it to me via instant message within the hour.

I didn’t get a chance to see it before work. The day got crazy quickly and stayed crazy until well, yeah. So it wasn’t until I left work that I was even able to play it. As soon as I did (and watched it four times cause it was so dang cute), I uploaded it to Youtube so that I would be able to share it with Varda.

I played some e-mail catch-up as I ran errands on the way home. As I walked through CVS scrambling to pick up a couple of last-minute trinkets for the girls’ advent elves, I listened to a video that my friend Carrie had sent.

I choked back tears as I listened. In the video, an incredible young man gives a speech about respect and love and human dignity. He talks to his school’s community about why words matter and how the way that they speak to each other can wound. Above all, he talks about his transformative love for his very special sister and the way that she sees the world.

I could barely catch my breath by the end. (Ed note: I posted it on Diary’s Facebook page last night, but if you haven’t seen it yet, I implore you to watch it HERE.)

When I got back into the car, I realized that I had about ten minutes before an appointment, so I decided to use them to share the video with everyone and anyone I know. I started with our school’s Inclusion Committee.

As you may remember, I started the Inclusion Committee a couple of years ago. A big part of what we did at the time (and since) was to help plan and execute our school’s celebration of Inclusive Schools Week, a nationally recognized celebration of inclusive education sponsored and supported by the Inclusive School’s Network.

ISW is next week. I have a lot less to do with it this year. The once parent-heavy committee has been mostly internalized and ISW is now a staff-run event. I’m still technically a member of the group, but meetings happen during the school day and it’s, well, different. I am on the e-mail list though, so I see the notices of the meetings and some of the conversations around them.

I searched for the last e-mail that I’d gotten from the group so that I could send them the video. I hit reply all and wrote the following:

*

To: Principal

cc: School Psychologist, Inclusion Specialist, Art Teacher, P.E. Teacher, Fourth Grade Special Ed Teacher, Five Classroom Teachers from varying grades

re: Incredibly moving video

.

All,

I can’t imagine anything more fitting as we move into ISW next week. But be forewarned, you’ll need tissues.

Jess

sent from my iPhone

*

And then I panicked.

I knew it the moment I’d hit send. I don’t know how I knew, I just knew. You know those moments? When you just know?

I scrambled to get to my Sent Items file to check.

The circle spun.

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. Faster!

The phone froze.

Damn it.

Please, please, please, please let me be wrong.

Please, please, please, please.

The screen came up.

Oh.

Sh-t.

Noooooooooooo!

Yup. I’d sent them this …

*

Kelly Clarkson, wherever you are, I’m sorry.

27 thoughts on “e-mail #fail

  1. I’m going to need tissues all day from laughing about this. I think that is a great video for inclusion because you know all the NT kids would enjoy singing that same song!

  2. To: Jess, Diary of a Mom

    cc: all who love and adore Jess

    re: ‘Incredibly moving video’

    All,

    That is not in any way, shape or form a #fail. It’s PERFECT.

    It is REAL.

    – and freaking hilarious.

    Love you, Jess!
    xo
    Rach

  3. That was awesome! Saw it coming like a train wreck and couldn’t do anything but chuckle straight through until the final explosion of laughter! thanks for sharing! You rock!

  4. As I was reading this I could see what was coming (having seen the video last night, thank you) and started giggling uncontrollably – causing the cat sitting in my lap to give me a major dirty look as she jumped off her jiggling perch. OMG, I love it. Moving indeed, heee heee! If this isn’t an “autism mom moment”? I don’t know what is. (And thanks for linking the post about my sweet son, too.)

  5. I am by no means an expert on anything lately now that Evan is 17. However my boyfriend has 3 children (whom I obsessively look for any and all sign of Asperger’s and autism) Anyway, the youngest is an 8 year old girl, full of life and energy, funny as all get out, will make friends and engage strangers in conversation because she just loves life. She is a typical hyper second grader who says “poopyhead” any chance she gets.

  6. Jess, I’ve been enjoying your posts for awhile now. Even though I knew what was bound to be coming at the end, I still enjoyed the laugh. And, I bet, so did your Inclusion Committee. Keep up the good work!

    Kelli
    (Mom of 17-year old Aspie son)

  7. LOL! What a cutie – That may be the greatest mis-click of all time. I’m sure someone got a good laugh on the other end of that email. Brooke is getting so big!! She looks more and more like Katie and less like a little kid in each post. 🙂

  8. Hee hee! I also learned the hard way not to email via phone while running errands in an effort to multitask. And unlike your error, which truly was comedic, mine was downright tragic. That moment watching the spinning circle (of doom)? Pure dread.

  9. After watching Soeren Palumbo’s powerful words, I continued on through You Tube and read this powerful quote:
    ‘I have learned that people will forget what you said; people will forget what you did; but people will never forget how you made them feel. – Maya Angelou
    My son too, has been the target of hurtful words, hurtful body language, hurtful segregation. Those words make his Mom, Dad, Grandpa, Nana, Sister, Aunties, Uncles, Cousins and true dear friends feel anger, resentment, sadness and grief. Change can start with me. Me will turn to we, burning like a grass-roots fire. We, his family, will choose our words carefully. We will stand up and be the voice for those who are targeted. Are you with me?

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