Batshit Crazy

September 10, 2008 6:00 am

Awhile back, Graham and I used to go to the Friday morning play class at Gymboree. There were about ten kids in the class and we both really enjoyed it. One Friday morning, a lady and her daughter came into the class about ten minutes late. Normally, I wouldn’t have noticed but she was talking loudly and interrupting the flow of the class. She marched right over to the teacher (who was in the middle of leading the class) and asked her if she got her voice mails and went into a whole long story about why she was late. Jesus woman, it’s Gymboree, it’s not like you showed up late for the SAT’s.

Right then, my batshit crazy meter went sky-high. Beeeeeeeeeeep BEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP. When someone is a little nutzo, I can usually pick up on it from a mile away. Lucky for me, it’s usually with enough time to steer clear of the lunatic in question. Usually. A friend of mine in the class was not so lucky. Batshit (let’s just call her that from now on) cornered her in the parking lot and demanded that they exchange phone numbers. My friend didn’t think much of it, they had kids the same age and it might be nice to have someone new to hang out with.

Batshit proceeded to call my poor friend eight or nine times a day. She would leave long rambling messages and when she got cut off, she’d call back to finish the thought. She would plan play dates and wanted my friend to hang out with her and her daughter ALL DAY EVERY DAY. My friend has a husband and kid and didn’t have that kind of time to spare but went on a few play dates with Batshit because she felt bad for her. When she’d finally had enough, my friend tried to let Batshit down gently. She declined her offers a couple of times and didn’t answer EVERY call that came her way. That’s when the Batshit hit the fan. (Get it?) Batshit started calling and leaving hateful messages. She’d say things like “I thought you were a nice person but I guess not. It’s not like I asked you to watch my daughter, I would never do that. I thought you were different, I thought we could be friends, I didn’t know you were that kind of person.” It all came out of left field but to Batshit, it made perfect sense.

A couple of weeks after my first Batshit encounter, I dropped out of the Friday class. As did at least half of the others in the class. This woman was the plague, none of us wanted to be her next target since she had stalker written all over her. I talked to the manager of Gymboree who told me that there had been several complaints about Batshit. Luckily for us, Batshit’s membership ran out a few weeks later and she didn’t have the money to re enroll. I thought I’d seen the last of Batshit.

When I dropped Graham off at school last week, I noticed a woman that looked familiar. When I picked him up, the woman was still in the class and it hit me. OMG, IT’S BATSHIT!!! I REPEAT, BATSHIT!!! Her kid is in Graham’s class. Normally, it wouldn’t be a big deal because I could avoid her during the quick drop offs and pickups but Batshit refuses to actually LEAVE her kid at school. She stays with her in class all day. I asked the teacher about her staying in class with the kids and her eyes got kind of wide like she was secretly pleading for me to save her from the batshit crazy woman. I intend to, Ms. Laurie, I really do.

Later that week, we were at Gymboree and I told my friend (the one with the restraining order against Batshit) about my encounter. There were two other women there who I don’t know but it was quiet and they could hear me telling my story. One of them came over and asked who I was talking about. I told her. She went on to tell me about how Batshit terrorized her and all of the other patrons of story time at the local library. The other woman told a story about Batshit infiltrating their playgroup and wreaking havoc. Yesterday at Gymboree, I was talking about Graham’s new school with a woman I had met. She kindly issued me a warning that there was a crazy stalker woman whose kid went there. I told her I was well aware and thanked her for the warning.

When I picked up Graham from school today, I noticed that Batshit was missing. I casually asked the teacher where she was (calling her by name, not Batshit) and the teacher let me know that she and her daughter weren’t there today. They had received a couple of complaints about Batshit hanging around and told her that she wasn’t allowed to stay in class anymore. Batshit won’t leave her daughter there without being able to stay with her, so I’m hoping this is the end of it.

If Batshit reappears and camps out in the class again, I have to make a stand. I’m either going to go to the director and demand that Batshit be kept out of the class or I’m pulling my kid out of the school altogether. How crazy can one woman be that people EVERYWHERE know her by name? Am I crazy for not wanting my son around her when she’s in a supervised environment? I’m wondering if Batshit is a special breed of crazy that only grows in Florida. If so, I’m picking my ass up and moving north.

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9 Comments

  1. Sprite's Keeper
    on
    1

    (Sigh) Only in Florida, Casey.
    I have done a few playdates with another mom whose daughter is slightly younger than Sprite. And MY LANDS, she was mother henning her kid! And the talking about herself! Oy. If I had to hear one more time about what she did during the day and how she didn’t seem to have the time anymore to get all her appointments in (nail,hair,massage) now that she was a mom… I just stopped taking her calls and after a few weeks of dead end messages, she got the hint.

  2. feener
    on
    2

    holy mother of god – her poor child !!!! how can someone be let lose out there in the world, does she have a husband ??? i usually peg those type pretty quick, and i am good at keeping a distant with crazy folk.

  3. mrsbear
    on
    3

    I like to think I have a pretty good batshit-o-meter as well. It helps that I’m generally uber-paranoid and generally avoid eye contact and extended conversations with overly friendly strangers. She sounds like a nut case. I feel awful for her child. I don’t know if that kind of crazy is homegrown specifically in Florida, I’m sure everywhere has their own version. Freaky deeky.

  4. Zip n Tizzy
    on
    4

    I agree… her poor child!

  5. Miss Jack
    on
    5

    See! This is EXACTLY the reason I am so PARANOID to get to know other mom’s out there. Thanks for the reminder! I must get my batshit-o-meter a tune-up.

  6. Linda
    on
    6

    I know that lady! Or at least 2 others just like her. 🙂

  7. HeatherPride
    on
    7

    I had to laugh at all the midadventures of Batshit, but deep down I am crying for her poor child! For the kid’s sake, I hope Batshit decides to have at least one other kid because that poor girl simply cannot go through life without a sibling’s shoulder to cry on. Poor kid.

  8. Katie
    on
    8

    Oh man, I feel bad for Batshit Jr. How bad is this kid’s life gonna be in Junior High?

    Katies last blog post..Lo Siento, Mama y Papa

  9. blissfully caffeinated
    on
    9

    Oh my lawd. As I started reading about Batshit I started thinking about my own experience with a nutbar in a playgroup we used to belong to. But then, as I read further I realized my Nutbar had nothing on your Batshit. That is Krazy with a capital K. I would move.

    blissfully caffeinateds last blog post..Give Up The Funk

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