Awesome Guest Blogger is Awesome

So, if you're on The Twitter, and you're interested in The Funny, you need to be following The Empress. The Empress is always giving suggestions for funny people to follow and The Empress is always right. I learned very quickly to always obey whenever The Empress tells me to follow someone because, as I've said previously: The Empress is always right. So, when The Empress told me I needed to follow The Mrs, I didn't ask questions, I just hit that "follow" button. (Also pay attention to The Empress' Get To Know Thursdays where every Thursday she surprise features a funny blogger she thinks you should be reading. Every Thursday morning.... I wake up.... hoping.... *sniff* .... praying... *sob*.... But so far.... Nothing. One day, Empress. Oh, yes. One day..... uh... you will run out of other funny people to feature and I will be the only one left. THAT will be the day I shine.)

But THEN, a few days later, I actually went to The Mrs' blog and started reading (NO. I don't know why it took me so long! I have no excuses! All I can tell you is that I was probably drunk. I mean... it's plausible, right?).

First I saw like a scary, mascara-less box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get. OMG! She draws bad pictures along with her funny!! So awesome.

And then I saw the super-secret dance party in my mind. Holy crap! She puts her bad drawings into videos along with her funny!!!!!

And THEN I saw it..... the one that would change my life forever: how to make a bowl of cereal in 12 easy steps.

It was love at first sight.

I immediately wrote to her on Twitter, telling her she was the next Allie Brosh (my blog idol) and that she needed to guest post for me. She's going to be famous one day, you see, and I want to be able to brag that "she once guest posted for me before she was an internet superstar!! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! I'M SO FUCKING COOL!!!"

Mark my words, people. MARK THEM!! And mrs? Scroll to the bottom, even though you've read this one before, because you have a prize waiting for you below.... (by the way, I write this before the results of the Vampire Squid T-shirt Contest results are announced and I have no idea who won.)

---

This is me (pissed off) meme
by The Mrs.

Dear Internet,

Sometimes, I think we were MFEO (please reference Sleepless in Seattle for further details on that acronym.) I mean, we like all of the same things—namely: wasting time, unicorns, and disastrous cakes. And you’re pretty knowledgeable, not to mention funny. We could spend all day together, and I still wouldn’t be sick of you.

Remember that time I made you my Valentine? Well, I almost made it official and proposed to you when I saw this:

Yeah, I thought we were pretty close, Internet. I can’t help but take issue with a certain meme that’s been making the rounds, though, and I think we need to have a serious chat.

I’m talking, of course, about the “This is Me Meme”. The This is Me Meme instructs bloggers to post portraits of themselves drawn by their children. Our very own Jillsmo posted her addition to the meme last week.

Well, Internet, I guess we don’t know each other as well as I thought we did. Because if we really were besties, you would know that 1. I don’t have children and 2. I HATE being left out.

I know the meme’s not taking over the universe or anything—it’s not Charlie fucking Sheen, for Chrissake (thank God)—but it’s gotten kind of popular. And as the meme continues to appear on blogs I read, I feel more and more cantankerous.

What’s a girl to do, Internet? Why are you discriminating against me? I thought we were pals.

I know we don’t do everything together. Sometimes, you branch out into activities that I can’t support, like when you started spending too much time with that Numa Numa kid.

And normally, I would brush something like that off and go about my day. But this? This feels personal. I mean, joining two of my favorite things—bad drawings and talking about myself—and then NOT letting me participate? That’s just cruel.

My first reaction was, of course, disappointment. Sadness, really, that my good friend the Internet was excluding me.

But then, as is my way, I got thoroughly pissed off.

So, guess what? Not that you asked, Internet (rude), but here’s what a rendering of me—drawn by anyone, but in this case myself—would probably look like.

(This is, of course, just a drawing. Cape and awesomeness are not to scale.)

I bet you feel foolish for trying to keep that drawing from the world. Don’t you?

Well, let this be a lesson to you, Internet. I am too tenacious to be held back by simple rules and instructions.

Your move, Internet.

Love

The Mrs

P.S. Just kidding. You know I’m lost without you. This was all just an elaborate excuse to show you my cape. Nice, no? Let’s never fight again.

---

AND NOW FOR THE PRIZE!!!!

Dear The Mrs:

On behalf of The Internet, and I'm pretty sure I have authority to speak on its behalf, I would like to offer my humblest and most sincere apologies for the This Is Me Meme, which has caused you to feel bad. I assure you that The Internet had no intention of excluding you in such a cruel and spiteful manner.

Please accept this award that I have created, in the hopes that it will somewhat lift your spirits. I'm pretty sure this isn't exactly how these meme things work, where I just hand them out all willy-nilly-like, but I created the fucking thing and I get to decide to bestow it whenever the fuck I want! I have modified the rules slightly in order to make you extra happy. If you choose to pass this on (not like you have a choice, actually, but I thought I should imply that you did) the actual rules don't ask you to draw anything, just list them.

Congratulations!!

Love,
Jill
on behalf of The Internet

Rules for this award:

1. You must proudly display the absolutely disgusting graphic that I have created for these purposes (put it in your post, you don't have to put it in your sidebar, I think that would seriously be asking too much). It's so bad that not only did I use COMIC SANS, but there's even a little fucking jumping, celebrating kitten down there at the bottom. It's horrifying! But its presence in your award celebration is crucial to the memetastic process we're creating here. If you need a higher resolution version... I totally have one!!

2. You must list and then draw 5 things about yourself, and 4 of them must be bold-faced lies. Just make some shit up, we'll never know; one of them has to be true, though. Of course, nobody will ever know the difference, so we're just on the honor system here. I trust you. Except for the 4 that you lied about, you lying bastards! But don't go crazy trying to think of stuff, we're not really interested in quality here.

3. You must pass this award on to 5 bloggers that you either like or don't like or don't really have much of an opinion about. I don't care who you pick, and nobody needs to know why. I mean, you can give a reason if you want, but I don't really care.

4. If you fail to follow any of the above rules, I will fucking hunt your ass down and harass you incessantly until you either block me on Twitter or ban my IP address from visiting your blog. I don't know if you can actually do that last thing, but I will become so annoying to you that you will actually go out and hire an IT professional to train you on how to ban IP addresses just so that I'll leave you alone. I'm serious. I'm going to do these things.

5. This one isn't actually a rule, but once you do the above, please come back here and link up to the Memetastic Hop so that I can keep track of where this thing goes.

---

The Dive Bar Welcomes: Amy

Today let's welcome Amy, who blogs at Not A Real Princess and can also be found on Twitter at @LLA_Princess. Go, Amy, GO!!!

---

Here’s a toast to the douche bags, toast to assholes…

There are so many times in life where we have two paths to choose: being a mature adult or an ignorant high school bitch. I generally pride myself at choosing maturity but there are times that the bitch in me wants to sneak out and rip into all those high school-like Mean Girls that get off on hurting people. The ones that just don’t get how much their immaturity and negativity affect those around them. So I’m hoping this letter is a way to be more mature about things than just stooping down to the level of the Mean Girls that are so hurtful.

I remember my first “adult” job when I was 20 in an office with a whole bunch of 40-something mothers. I was so shocked and saddened that they were just as catty and bitchy as girls in high school. I thought that people matured when they graduated school. No not at all. Back stabbing, secrets, cliques and popularity still rule in adulthood.

I realize, now, that some people think snarky and sarcastic means bitchy and hurtful. Is it so difficult to allow someone into your friend circle that is new? If you don’t like something they have said to you, why can’t you be mature enough to say something to them? Is it necessary to ignore them or tell others to? Is it jealousy? I’d like to think so, but honey I am not all that, nor do I portray myself to be. Do you pride yourself in collecting numbers of friends instead of accumulating lasting friendships? When you are alone with yourself at night how do you really feel about you? How do you feel about your life and who you have become? Do you even really know me? Here let me tell you about me:

Did you know that I am a 35 year old mother of 2 children on the autism spectrum? I struggle each day wondering if I am doing everything I can to help them be the best people that they can be. Did you know I cry when I think about my kid’s futures and fear that if I die before them, that no one will be there to care for them? I don’t live near family and have some great friends to drink and hang out with but really no strong connections with anyone in the autism community; like so many, I feel alone.

Did you know that I am a registered nurse? That my job is to help people that are depressed or suicidal or to get off of drugs and alcohol? Do you realize how many people come in the hospital because they feel worthless because of bullies? They may turn to drugs or alcohol or self mutilation because they are trying to mask the pain. Many times, they are trying to deal with so much pain from people judging them when they don’t even know them.

Did you know I have my own health issues? I struggle each day with arthritis and auto immune pain and exhaustion. That despite the fact that everything inside me says shut down, I don’t because I can’t. I have two little boys that need me and I can’t just give up. I have to keep fighting for them.

Maybe I thought you were funny. Now I realize you are nothing more than a bully. Someone who prides themselves in collecting superficial pats on the back and laughs at their witty remarks of self-loathing. You don’t deserve to know about me or my kids or my life. Deep down inside me I feel like maybe you are just a sad and lonely person that needs people that will be genuine and kind to them. Maybe you have those people and just don’t need me. Fine. But at least be mature enough to say so. Don’t be the dirt bag scum bag that steers other people’s opinions and friendships. Be your own person.

So here’s to you and all you have become. As Kanye sings, here’s “A toast to the assholes, the dirt bags, every one of them that I know.”

---

The Dive Bar Welcomes: Uhhhh

I'm running out of ways to creatively identify people who wish to remain anonymous. Suggestions?

---

Before I unload, cyberly-speaking, could I get a bourbon and scotch, on the rocks, with a tequila shooter? Thanks.

I have a mother-in-law. You know the kind. You might even have one. If you don't, consider taking mine. For the sake of my small nugget of a daughter, who adores her, I refrain from poking her in the face with a number two pencil.

For the decade that I've known my outlaw, she has always been self-centered. I knew bearing the first grandchild wouldn't diminish the fine lines and wrinkles of her overbearing personality, but the ruckus she stirred up over Lighting it up Blue last week, has left my mind reeling to piece back the remaining bits of the mental tornado aftermath she left in her wake.

[brief rewind]

My little one has Asperger's. From the time I brought her home from the hospital, there were the following issues:

"Don't hold me. I'm going to scream and never stop. Don't laugh or talk in my presence. It's too loud and hurts my ears. Oh, no coughing either. You're kidding me, right? You actually considered using a vacuum? That will set me off for days. Did I mention, don't hold me? Oh, and my screaming has two volumes. Loud and never-ending. You want to change my routine? Please see the previous sentences involving screaming. Sometimes I will scream for hours at a time and you won't know why." These issues continued. And new ones cropped up. And it got worse.

After months of reading and researching, I realized this was bigger than anything I could handle on my own. We started some early interventions I and was pretty convinced we were dealing with Asperger's, though we didn't get a formal diagnosis until few months later. This was something I broached with my outlaw. Although I don't agree with her on most everything, I believed our mutual affinity for this cute nugget of cuteness, might shift the focus onto something meaningful. I was met with a response that floored me. It shouldn't have, but it did.

My outlaw has been a nurse all her life and raised her own brood, as she pointed out to me. She'd seen it all and there was nothing wrong with my girl. In her experience, there were kids in far worse predicaments. As her mother, I just hadn't exposed her to enough and was being too hard on myself.

OH MY Guh! I didn't know being a nurse (in a completely unrelated field), by default, makes you an Autism expert. It's been months since my girl's diagnosis and I've long since given up on getting any kind of apology.

[abrupt fast forward to the point of our story]

I invited family and friends to take part in Lighting it up Blue. Key word "invite". With love and open arms. My outlaw, on the other hand, chose to strong-arm family and friends with inaccurate information about Autism (as a side note, she purposely misspells Asperger's because she doesn't like the name) and accusations about their lack of knowledge and support. Just short of beating them black and "blue" if they didn't participate. This went on for days! I was completely embarrassed for and by her. She certainly doesn't speak for me and I can only hope that her family, who has known her longer than I, is aware of this. She has used this opportunity to wear Autism as some personal badge of valor. I don't know that I will ever be able to let this go.

Fuck. I got through all of that without saying fuck. But that drink I got at the beginning of this is making me throw expletives to the wind. Fuckity fucker fuckington.

[pointless drivel]

So now, do I:

A) Continue to live like this never happened and continue my path of passive aggressive communication?

B) Carefront her?

C) Sharpen that pencil?

---

The Dive Bar Welcomes: Tessa

Today we welcome Tessa, who blogs at Apples and Autobots. Welcome, Tessa!!

---

Dear Mom,

Six years ago, you were depressed, addicted to prescription pain pills, and trapped in an abusive marriage. I fucking saved your ass. My husband and I took you into our home without a second thought. You lived with us for five fucking years. We got you healthy. We helped you get a job. We helped you get your life back. And we never asked you for anything in return. Not one fucking thing. Why? Because that’s what family does. When someone’s down, family is supposed to be there. You’re not much on learning by example, are you mom?

You are by far one of the most selfish people I’ve ever known. I called you crying once because I couldn’t afford my son’s medicine. Oh, you gave me the money—and asked for it back two weeks later. Bitch.

When you lived with me, you constantly criticized my parenting. Your kids never acted like that. Surprise, surprise, mom. Eli has fucking autism! Of course he’s a little more challenging than what you’re used to. The thing is, you still criticize me. I don’t need that shit from you.

When we were paying out of pocket for Lela’s evaluation, you fucking promised me that you would pay half. Two thousand dollars was a bit much at one time, especially considering that Joe had lost his fucking job. You had just gotten married to a man whom you bragged wouldn’t let you take on any household expenses. You said it would be no problem to help, but when it came time to pay up, what did you give me? Fifty fucking dollars! And if you hadn’t had the money to help because of some unforeseen emergency, then I would’ve totally understood. But what did you spend that money on? A convertible. Yeah. A fucking car, that you didn’t even need, I might add, was more important than your granddaughter.

You live twenty minutes away. You pass my house on your way to work. I haven’t seen you in a month. Do you know what Lauren said when I recommended that she call you about Grandparent’s Day at school? She said, “Why? She’s not going to come anyway.” That’s right—my nine year old has already learned not to rely on you. Lela doesn’t even ask about you anymore.

I’m going through hell right now. Did you know? You certainly don’t listen to me when I call you to talk about it. “Oh, Noah will talk when he’s ready. You worry too much.” That’s not what I need to hear from you. I get plenty of that from other dumbasses. What I want from you is a little support. A shoulder to cry on. But that’s too much for you, isn’t it. You don’t even bother to read my blog anymore. What really makes me sick, though, is how you gush on Facebook about how you have the BEST daughter. How I’m your best friend. Well, guess what? I may be your best friend, but you certainly aren’t mine.

---

Yes. I would.

EDIT:  Here's an update for all my new readers


So, there's that age-old question that gets tossed around a lot: "If there was a pill that would take away your child's autism, would you give to to him?" The politically correct answer, and one that I hear most of the time, is no. Because my child is a unique snowflake and I would never want to change who he is; autism is a part of him and I wouldn't want him to be a different person.

See, I have a different take on that. My son is sweet and mellow and kind and scary smart and beautiful and happy... and he would still be all of things without the autism. In my opinion, not having autism would not change any of his wonderful qualities, it would not change who he is: he would still be the same person, just without the burdens that autism brings.

Now, it's important to mention that I am very much aware at how I have been changed as a result of autism. It's brought out my Mother Warrior; my "I am his fiercest advocate" side. It's allowed me to appreciate, so much more than I would have, all the NT-like things that both of my kids do (that are actually quite annoying).

The endless string of questions: I remember the day when I longed just to hear "Mama"; I can tolerate these questions that seem to never end.

When they sit on me until my legs and arms fall asleep: I remember the day when I wished he would just give me a hug without squirming to get away; I can deal with numb arms a little while longer.

How they insist on doing things for themselves, but not up to my "standards": I remember when I thought I would always have to get him dressed; he can go to school with his shirt on inside out.

And there are more, of course, but the truth is that it isn't about me. This question isn't about how I have been changed, and how much my life has, dare I say, benefited from having a child with autism. I may say that I wouldn't want to change anything about who he is because things are perfect just as they are, because they're not perfect for him. So, it's not about how much I've learned to appreciate these qualities in myself... it's about him.

So, yes. If there was a pill that would allow him to walk into the kitchen when there was already food on the table and not make him gag and have to run out of the room... I would give it to him.

And if there was a pill that would help him be able to navigate simple social situations without anxiety and without the ridicule and torment that I know he will face some day... I would give it to him.

And if there was a pill that would take away the unexplained and extreme anxiety about the fact that the light in his brother's room is on a dimmer switch... I would give it to him.

And if there was a pill that could help him take the thoughts that he has inside his head and form them into words, without having to struggle, and without frustration and with enough clarity that other people understood what he was saying... I would give it to him.

And after the pill, he would still be sweet and mellow and kind and scary smart and beautiful and happy... and he would also be free. Free of these things that burden him; free to be who he is.

So yes... I would do that for him. If I could.

---

Guest post: Domestic abuse and why I chose to live with my abuser

These beautiful and heartbreaking words were written by my very good friend Kelli who wrote the book, and runs the website and radio show Birth Stories on Demand. This was originally a "note" on Facebook and I asked her if I could post it here. Love you, Kelli!!!!

---

Domestic abuse and why I chose to live with my abuser….

I’m smart enough to know that I’m a victim of domestic abuse. I’m also smart enough to know that I can leave at any moment. So why do I stay?

Love.

Isn’t that always the answer?

I’ve been bruised from head to toe, knocked unconscious, suffered injuries that were visible and others that weren’t. I’ve had to make decisions about going out in public because of how my face looked, and what to wear to best cover my bruises and contusions. I’ve had a bank close my account because my signature never matched my signature card…but it doesn’t if your fingers are broken, strained, and sprained.

I don’t like to be hit. It hurts me physically, and it hurts my feelings. I know my abuser loves me. I also know my abuser will kill me. But I still can’t leave. So now what?

I live.

I always wanted to write a book, so I did. I’m learning to play the guitar. I would like to write songs too, so I will. There isn’t any reason to put it off, is there?

I hope the hitting will stop. I hope I don’t get killed in front of my children Q and Ainsley.

And If I am killed, I hope I don’t get revived by some well-meaning EMT or ER doctor. I would hate to have to die like that TWICE! I wear a DNR (do not resuscitate) bracelet, and have paperwork filed at the hospital. But this remains a huge concern of mine.

There was a day recently when my abuser was really out of control. The blows were coming, and coming, and coming I was seeing stars and unfortunately lost my footing. Now I was on the floor prone and in real trouble. I reached in my pocket for my phone and was able to dial 911 before the phone was thrown out of my hands. When the officer arrived, I was so relieved! I had survived it!! It was (thankgodinheaven) over. Just like that, calm replaced the savage beast. The police officer looked around the room and became hostile to me, “Why did you call the police?!” I looked at her with my eye, the one that wasn’t swollen shut, and apologized for calling her. My mistake. Clearly.

So why do I stay?

Because my abuser is my autistic daughter. She is now much larger than me and has no understanding of the damage she does. There doesn’t seem to be a way to stop her. Nor is there anyone who can help us. We’ve tried.

She has autism and I’m in stage 4 autism.

Written for April 2011. April is Autism Awareness Month.

---

Guest Blogger: What to think about people who say what not to say

Continuing what shall now be known as "Controversy Week" here at Y.GT., today we have a guest post written by my friend who comments here as Cactusinmypants (because bitching about your cats is like bitching about the cactus you keep in your pants). He doesn't blog so I have nothing to link to, sorry.

The other day I posted a link on Facebook to an article written by my friend the Domestic Goddess and posted on the website Many Hats Mommy called "What to Say and What NOT to Say to a Family Dealing with Autism. I posted it because I thought it was awesome, but my friend reminded me of the conversation that we have had before, that he often feels intimidated by parents of kids with special needs because he hears us (me) complaining about NT-only parents, he wants to help but he has no idea what to say or do about it and he's afraid he's going to do or say the wrong thing. He suggested that maybe he should write a list in response to the article. I said: BRING IT ON. And so... here we are....

---

What to think about people who say what not to say.

Jillsmo asked me to write a little thing about people who do not have special needs children and how I felt that often, encountering parents with special needs children can be an intimidating situation. We've had this conversation a long time ago and she, as I recall, had not considered the intimidation factor. Since the list of "Things not to say to parents with Autistic children" list came up I felt it might be constructive to point out what not to think about the things people say to parents with Autistic children.

But before I go into that, I thought I would try to put things into perspective with a few examples that have nothing to do with that at all. For instance. I work for FedEx. FedEx is 6 different companies; UPS and the Postal Service are just one each. So, sometimes people call the wrong FedEx for their needs and I am often called upon to go on Express pickups, or Freight pickups: I am neither of those. Some people expect a Saturday delivery, that is Express and Home Delivery: I am neither of those. Often I am put in a position to have to explain that to customers because our main office does not. Now, I could get very frustrated that people don't know the difference. But that is expecting a lot. Since the other companies like UPS are not like that.

People react differently, but most feel stupid for not knowing. That is wrong, it's not their fault; we are confusing. It doesn't stop other drivers from being upset and frustrated by all the "wild goose chases" they have to go on because people are not informed. That is also wrong.

There are many situations and many jobs that have this problem; you hear it all the time. "Why don't people read the sign that the door is locked from the inside of the clinic?" ... well, people don't expect to be locked in, so they still push at your door in futility. "Why don't people know that you have to drive all the way around the school in order to pick up your kid? The arrows are painted!" Well, people just don't see why you would have to do that since the front door is right there!

I could go on, I am sure many of you have similar rules that people just don't get at your work or school, it's rather common. This brings me to the point that I am feebly trying to make. People don't really know what to do or say in situations they are unfamiliar with, but it's not their fault. Yes, they are ignorant, yes they don't often seem to "get it," and yes, they often do or say the wrong thing. It's because these situations are intimidating.
Would they rather say the exact right thing? Would they rather feel smart because they are fully informed about the situation? Of course.

I completely understand that it is totally frustrating for those of you who are put in the position of having to either explain or just ignore the ignorance displayed by people about the situation you know about or are in. They don't seem to get it and you totally do get it but they seem unwilling to get as informed as you are. But again, generally, people almost never, in their daily lives, have to really know what to say about or to parents with special needs children.... it's not their fault.

So what do you do?

Well, adjacent to the list of what not to say is a list of what TO say, that is great. But as most of you know, very few of the people you encounter will ever have the opportunity to read that list, and now you are just stuck being frustrated.

So, here is a list of things you might consider when someone says the wrong thing.

1. "G-d doesn’t give you more than you can handle."

O.K. this is little more than a platitude. But what the hell do they say? They are intimidated by your situation, they have no idea what to say, they can't imagine what you are dealing with, but they are really trying to relate. Many people have had situations that seemed rather daunting and they use this little saying to get them through. They are trying to say that many of us have stuff to deal with and often times we do not think we are the strong ones until we have those situations thrust upon us, then we kick in and deal. You are not the special strong ones, you are people who were forced to be strong because you have no other real choice in the matter. God knows that many of us have that strength within us that is rarely tapped... but it's there. Some can't, though. They fail and fall, crumbling at the daunting task. So that statement is factually incorrect, but it is comforting to those who need to believe it.

2. "Your kids are so lucky to have you for a Mommy!" 

O.K., well ... they are. Even if they didn't have Autism, they are. However, if you suck at being a mom with an Autistic child, that statement acts as a cheer leader type of encouragement. That's all that is, take it as a compliment. My kids are lucky to have my wife as a mommy. If we gave them up for adoption, they would be lucky to have their adoptive parents as parents. Look at it this way, if you are beating your kids in public and only had them for the government check otherwise you would have aborted them.... then you would not get that statement from anyone.

3. "I don’t know how you do it! You are so strong/amazing/such a good mom!" 

Listen, here is the thing. Children are abandoned, they are mistreated, they are stuck between feuding parents, left alone to raise themselves, ignored, abused, and pushed off on nannys and day care. People know this, and frankly, lots of people are guilty of it. When we had our first, we were completely unprepared for a baby. Our work schedules simply didn't comply with our parenting obligations so we handed him over to day care. It killed us, but at the time we had no idea what to do. We got better at it later, but we missed so many of his "firsts." That is what they are talking about. They are jealous of your shitty situation because they couldn't make that kind of real decision based on priorities that are important. Maybe you don't feel special, but you are, own it and deal with it.

4. "He’ll talk when he’s ready". 

O.K. this is stupid. This is an attempt to pretend to actually know something they don't. But it's borne from experiences where "normal" kids just stubbornly did not talk when the "Dr. Spock" book said they should. Also, it is meant to be an attempt to give you an out, that you are not a bad parent, that some kids develop on their own time. They are trying to ease what they may perceive as your trepidation about your childs development. They are trying to be nice.

5. "He’ll eat better eventually or when he is hungry."

Same thing. They have no idea what Autism is. But again, "normal" kids eat weird shit all the time. They are only speaking from the limited experience they have. However, this is just the kind of statement that begs a tutorial about Autism; if you have the time, there is a great opportunity to explain that to them... nicely! You always want more people in your corner than people who you told to go read something because they are really getting on your nerves with all the idiot crap.

6. "Can’t you just discipline him?" 

Hey, this is not just yours! LOL!! Don't think for a second that people only say that crap to parents with special needs kids. Look, unless your kid wears a helmet and drools while rocking back and forth, people can't readily identify what his problem really is. The immediate assumption is that you suck. So... O.K. go ahead and spit in their faces, they are assholes. I think my response would be "Maybe you could work on your self control over commenting on other people's parenting skills, we could then work together on the same issues."

7. "He’s manipulating you. He’s just trying to get attention. " 

Free parenting advice is worth every penny you pay for it. This sounds like a mother comment; or at least my mother in law anyway. She has lots of shitty comments like this that roll off her tongue when I'm not there. Oddly, I never hear them. Why? Well, because I am an asshole, and by that, I mean that I have no qualms about being an asshole in defense of my kids. But seriously, they are just trying to help you get your kid through their own experience; young mothers seem so clueless and fearful. It sounds shitty I know, but they actually think they are helping.

8. "I’m so sorry!" 

Well, I feel sorry for people who feel they need to say this, but really, let's get real here for a minute. You know damn well that if you had your druthers your child would be a semi-genius with all the "normal" kid stuff: not for you, but for them. It's hard to watch them struggle, it's hard to see how society will not understand them, it's  hard to know that they may not be choosing between Yale or Harvard, that their future really depends so much more on you than on other kids. They are really "sorry." I know, it's rather insulting. You love your child and he/she is the best thing in your life, but give people a break; maybe they understand how much harder it is?

9. "What’s WRONG with Him?" 

They don't know. They just don't. And they have no idea how to express that in a good way. Some people are stupid, some just are uninformed. They just... do... not... know.

10. "Normal kids do that, too!" Or, "Oh my kid does that! No big deal!" 

Alright, I have used the word "normal" pretty often in this little writing, and that, I suppose shows my ignorance. But once again, how do I separate your Autistic child from my non-autistic child when describing behavior? Sure, my kid shit his pants every day.... every... damn.... day. He wouldn't bring an extra set of clothes so I had to go to his school... every day... to find him in the bathroom and give him new pants. Other parents didn't have to do this. Can I now relate to parents with Autistic kids? Probably not, but you don't know what my kid does. We are trying to include your child in the group, not dismiss your childs special needs.

11. "YOU ARE SPOILING HIM." 

Yeah, I don't know any parent who didn't have to hear that at least once. This is where I say "get over yourself."  The fact is that being a parent is really fucking hard. I would love to be able to relate to a parent with an autistic child and be the one who really gets it, even be able to watch your kid every so often. My kids are so cool about all that, I am very proud at how non judgemental they are. We (my church/school community) know 2 Asperger's kids, we like them, they are weird, but we still treat them like ever other kid. My son has a learning disability: he can't read, but he is still accepted. We (those of us who really want to be informed about Autism) are here for you. We are good people. Sometimes we say stupid things, but let us in. We can help.

That's all I wanted to say.

---

The Dive Bar Welcomes: Nobody you know: UPDATED

Today's author has asked to remain completely anonymous, for obvious reasons. I realize this is going to be controversial and that many of you will take issue with what she's saying, but I completely support everybody's right to have feelings and an opinion, no matter how much other people won't like it. I believe very much in the cathartic power of speaking your mind and I'm happy to support this person, my friend, in giving her a place to put her words: I would do the exact same thing for any other friend who asked me to.

---

You do not speak for my child

There is a growing community of adults with high-functioning Aspergers, formally diagnosed or not (don't get me started on the NOT), who believe I am a bad parent. Well, that all of us who have kids on the spectrum are bad parents. Why? Because we get intensive therapy for our children, in hopes of them reaching their full potential. In order to break down some of Autism's walls. This, to them, is wrong. They feel we should accept our kids as they are, and that trying to change or modify behavior isn't right. They say they are believers in "neuro-diversity".

What the FUCK is neuro-diversity? Well, I know what it is, and quite frankly I am pretty sure the whole damn planet is already full of neuro-diverse people, but what I don't get is how that word applies to my kid. Does neuro-diversity mean it's OK when my child tries to break down a door? Or when my child beats the crap out of a sibling? Should I be OK with my child having no friends, no social skills, or life-impeding obsessions? Most importantly, is it alright for my child to be totally and completely miserable each and every damn day of the year, so much so that one day suicide seems like a good option? I am supposed to be happy and accepting of all this?! Just let the chips fall where they may?

Two words for you: FUCK NO.

Let me be VERY clear. My kid does NOT have high-functioning Aspergers. My child would not have made it to adulthood sans diagnosis. My child struggles all the time, trying desperately to get out from under Autism. It is not a blessing. It is not a gift. It fucking sucks. All.The.Time.

I want more for my child. I want friends, college, independence. I don't want my child to be on welfare. To give into this disability and be alone forever. I don't want my child to hop from minimum wage job to minimum wage job, not becoming the person I know my child can be, because I decided just to accept how things are now and call it neuro-diverse.

I am so fucking sick and tired of people trying to speak for my child. You do not speak for my child. My child is not like you. So save your neuro-diversity shit for someone else, I don't want to hear it. My child deserves more.

EDIT: The author has sent me the following for clarification.

I just wanted to clarify my thoughts, because I am offending some people I in no way meant to offend. I am really just talking about a small group of people who own their Autism so much that they can't understand why a parent would want to change their child. I have personally had people (adults with asd) write me off because of the path I have chosen for my child, the way I feel about my child's autism, and what I hope for the future. I am in NO way am speaking about ALL adults on the spectrum. A small group has made me feel this way, and I am not OK with that, but please know it isn't a broad generalization. And I don't have anything against self diagnosed adults in general, just the ones who make me, and parents like me, out to be bad for wanting to make things different. I truly, truly apologize for not being clear the first time.

---

All About Autism Series 2011

My friend Gina, who blogs at Special Happens has created a new series for Autism Awareness Month called All About Autism Series 2011 and I am honored to be guest posting over there today. I wrote about our diagnosis experience, which I hope can be helpful to parents with young kids who are just beginning the diagnosis process or who just have questions. Please visit me over there and feel free to ask questions if you got 'em! Email me if you want to keep your questions private;  I'm totally cool with that ;) (You can find my address in the link to my profile underneath "Who the hell am I?")

---

NT kids are so complicated!!

It's April and apparently that means it's time for me to start trying to figure out what the kids will be doing this summer. We never actually go anywhere, because we're both always working and we still never have any money, so I need to find camps and things for the boys.

Child 1 has this camp that he goes to every summer. He does better when he can just go to the same place every day, see the same people, do the same things, etc. This will be his 3rd year in a row at the same camp. In the past I've sent him with an aide who forces socialization on him; I'm considering sending him alone this year. That way I won't have to pay an aide, but also I think he'd be thrilled to just have his run of the place. No math, no socialization, just a lot of running around and playing with their expensive toys.

Child 2, though, has this complicated social network and he would be pissed if I ever sent him any place where there wasn't at least one of his little friends. AND, apparently NT kids get BORED if they do the same thing all summer long, so the options will change every week.

I have to coordinate his little social calendar with that of his friends' little social calendars to make sure that every week he'll be going somewhere with one of his friends.

Christ. Really?

I made a spreadsheet.

Yeah, I think better when there are spreadsheets involved, so I made one with the dates at the top and the little friend names going down the side. I'm going to fill in the places where his friends are going and then sign him up for those camps. I've got 10 weeks I need to fill.

Does this seem needlessly complicated to anybody else? It's also very confusing. I'm thinking maybe I'm just not smart enough to have an NT kid.  I suppose one day he'll be doing all of this on his own and I won't have any spreadsheet to track his whereabouts. (I'll only have a GPS tracking device subcutaneously implanted in his body while he sleeps.)

Oy.

---

Ok. This is the last time I'm going to ask. I SWEAR IT IS.

So, yeah. You guys helped me make it past the first part of the (very sad) Consolation Round of Q's Blogger Tournament. Thanks, guys!! You're so awesome!! Now I'm in the finals and OMG! I'M SO SORRY!! I have to ask you, once again, to click (ha ha, I first typed "cluck") and then click again.

I PROMISE you this is the last time I'll ask you to vote for me on something (for now).

I promise you.

And, to prove it, I'd like to call your attention to the number SIX over there in the sidebar. See how I just let that happen? Yeah, I saw that shit happening and I said nothing. I did not ask you to help me, I did not call your attention to this problem, and I am NOT doing that right now. We're just going to watch me fall. And, it's cool! No, I'm serious. Ever since Kris dropped out, it just hasn't been that interesting to me. PLUS I'm happy that my friend Susan is climbing up the ranks, once again. Go Susan, go!!

Okay, anyway, my point is this: Go here. And Vote. For me. And I SWEAR I won't ask again. SERIOUSLY. I promise!!!!

---

Today is April 3rd

8 years ago today I stood in my brother's hospital room and watched him take his last breath.

I was trying to figure out what I should say about this day, and there are a few options.

I could talk about Melanoma; I'm sure there's a lot I could educate you guys on, but I don't really feel like it, honestly. Plus, I took my kids to a soccer game today and totally forgot sunscreen (try not to do that. There. You've been educated.)

I could write about him, but I've already done that.

I thought about talking about what that day was like, and what it's like to be in the room with somebody you love when they die, but I didn't really feel like re-living it all.

I thought about reminding you all that life is short and you should make sure to tell your loved ones that you love them while you still have a chance, but I think you probably all know that. Plus, it's sort of a theme of mine so you've heard (read) me say (write) it before.

I'm not going to do any of those things, I'm just going to have this post here as it is and I'm  going to say it one more time:

Today is April 3rd.

---

Come with me to squash some bologna today!

Varda, over at The Squashed Bologna (a slice of life in the sandwich generation), has created a new series that she calls Special Needs Sibling Saturdays and I am very honored to be guest posting over there today. I wrote about my boys. As usual. Go check it out!!!

---

What is this "autism" you speak of? I was not aware of that!

Disclaimer: I keep writing and rewriting this because I can't seem to make it not sound like I'm an asshole. So, I decided to stop trying and just start with an apology: I'm sorry I sound like an asshole here. This is just how I feel and I apologize if you're offended by what I say. 

Disclaimer #2: Please feel free to disagree with me, by the way. We're all entitled to our opinions and I have NO problem with you telling me yours. 

Today is the first day of Autism Awareness Month. Tomorrow is World Autism Awareness Day. You're supposed to do stuff like make your Facebook profile picture blue, or put a little twibbon in your Twitter avatar, wear a blue shirt or get blue light bulbs for your house (that one is actually pretty cool. Hubs, can we get blue light bulbs for our house???)

I'm not going to do any of those things. (But I totally support those of you who are, by the way; hence the asshole apology above).

If you're reading this blog, following me on Twitter or one of my Facebook friends, chances are good you're already pretty aware of autism; I'm not really sure that adding a twibbon is going to change any of that. I understand the purpose of the month, though: to get people talking about autism and therefore raise awareness! (oh, and also so that Autism Speaks can have a great fundraising month). I'm sorry but I'm just not a believer in Slacktivism. I don't see the point in having a blue Twitter avatar. It already says right there in my profile that I have a kid with autism, shouldn't that make you kind of aware right there? If you weren't aware of autism, and you saw me walking down the street, would my blue t-shirt suddenly make you aware?

And why the color blue? Is that because it's the color of Autism Speaks' logo? Yes, I think that's why, since they're the folks behind this, aren't they? I have nothing against them, myself, but I know some autistic adults who say "Autism Speaks doesn't speak for me." Are we excluding these autistic adults from the whole "awareness" scenario as a result of our blue Facebook profile pictures? I don't like that kind of "awareness."

Thursday afternoon I was at school picking up the kids and a staff member stopped me. They're worried about her granddaughter and she had a bunch of questions for me. I stopped and talked to her until the bell rang when I had to go. This kind of thing happens to me all the time; people stop me, or they call me, or they email me, etc. I always take the time to talk to them, to tell them about my experiences and what I know, and I always try to follow up with them.

This is how I raise awareness about autism, and I do it every day; not just one day or one month out of the year. I'm going to do it next week and I'm going to do it in May, when Autism Awareness month has ended. And my Facebook profile picture is staying as is.

EDIT: So, after all my posturing, both Child 1 and I ended up wearing blue shirts today. Does it still count as awareness if you do it accidentally?

---

Guest Blogger: Amber from Unladylike Behavior

I didn't write anything today. I don't have any ideas and I'm too tired to think of something. Plus I'm taking your advice and spending some quality time with Child 2. He's been sitting on me for hours now. Awesome. So, I asked El Twitter if anybody felt like whipping up a guest post for me real quick like, and CHECK IT OUT!!! I scored!!!!! May I present Amber, who blogs at Unladylike Behavior (love that name!) I, naturally, have some things to say about what she's talking about but I'll put my comments in the comments instead of taking up more space here. Didn't I say I had nothing to say today? SHUT UP, Jill!

---

Truth Behind the Lady
By Amber, from Unladylike Behavior

All my life I’ve always known that I’ve wanted to be a mother. The youngest of two, I grew up wishing, praying, and hoping for a little brother. Alas, my wish was never granted. I resorted to dressing up the dog and playing with the neighbor’s daughter, 5 years my junior. When I reached puberty I began to pimp myself out as the town’s most well-known babysitter. I was a damn good babysitter, and I made a hell of a lot of money at it. Each night I spent tucking these precious children into their beds I wondered when I would be singing the bed-bite song to one of my own.

It’s not that I am or ever was desperate for children. I’ve never tried to rush it. I simply knew that when the time came it’s something that would bring even more happiness into an already contented life.

It’s what I’m meant to do, right?

Do you want to know the truth? I’m terrified. I’m a fucking mess, how am I ever going to be capable enough to raise a child? When my dog wakes me at 3am to go to the bathroom I can barely muster ‘lay back down, it’s too early’ before my eyes are closed again. And dinner? How do people do it? When I make it home from work my first stop is for a glass of wine then I mull over the contents of my mostly-empty fridge. In the end I’ll probably decide that eating cookies for dinner really isn’t that bad, so long as they’re oatmeal chocolate chip. Hey, if I can have it for breakfast, who’s to say I can’t have it for dinner? God knows you can’t feed a child dessert for dinner. I think they cover that in Child Rearing 101.

I know I’m young, I know everyone is scared, I know blah blah blah. Still, none of that does anything for this voice in the back of my head that says ‘you’ll never be a good enough mother’.

How do you do it?

---