I ran into a former very close friend over the weekend.  It was at a place where I'm sure neither of us would expect to find the other.  Add to that the facts that I was wearing a wig and she appeared to be more than a bit tipsy.  We were 5 feet from each other for 15 minutes and she never recognized me.   I never approached her and while I'm glad I didn't follow my knee-jerk urge to approach her the moment I saw her, I wish I had talked to her at some point after I'd gathered my wits.  She is one of the friends who I've lost because of... well, I don't know how to word it.  I suppose, to be direct, it was because of H's crash-and-burn at age 4 and my handling of it.  We were very close.  Our kids were also very close - nearly daily contact.  When H fell apart and I fell apart as I tried to deal with him, she told me that she didn't want to be around us and she didn't want her kids to be around us.  She told me that I was the reason H was falling apart.  She basically told me that I was ruining him.  She was one of the first people to articulate this in no uncertain terms.  I've said it before and I'll say it again... "Bad" kids create "bad" moms in the same way that "bad" moms create "bad" kids.

It always been a struggle not to believe that my son is suffering from SMS - Shitty Mom Syndrome - no more, no less.  Conversations like this, along with the unspoken statements I see around me as if we're contagious, do a really good job cementing that belief.  It's so much easier to think that I'm the problem as opposed to my child having a serious, perhaps lifelong, disability.

I wanted to tell her that we have a diagnosis.  That he is so disabled that he has to be in a special school.  Most importantly, that despite the fact that *I* ruined H, I've somehow managed to spare my other two children.  I'd also loved to hear how her kids are doing because I'd love to know that they are doing well and my children would love to know as they ask about them.  If they are doing well, as they should be, statistically speaking, I'd love to tell her to be so glad for that.  I would told her that I was happy not only for her children but for her.  I would've told her I'm jealous because I'd love to be able say I have three typical kids.  I would've told her that I think if given one wish, I'd wish for what she has along the luxury of being able to be sure that "bad" kids were merely the result of "bad" moms.  As it is, thanks in part to feedback I get from others (the rest is a natural outgrowth of mommy guilt), I only think that some of the time and, unfortunately, in my situation it is self-directed as opposed to directed at anyone else.