xmlns:og='http://ogp.me/ns#' Yeah. Good Times.

Friday, May 13, 2011

So this is how it starts

A few weeks ago I was contacted by my Twitter buddy Christine, who blogs at All About Mom-sense, asking me if I wanted to participate in the May Mom Blog Hop that she and Nadia from Musings.... By the Light of the Moon were organizing. I said SURE! I love blog hops; I'm happy to participate. The instructions were:
Just one day for Mothers is just not enough so some Mom-Blogger pals of mine and I are dedicating this entire month of May to Moms. Each day one of us will post a special Mom-related blog and then guide you on to the next day’s blog with an easy access link to just click for the next day. On this blog tour, you will meet new friends, find new blogs to follow that bring you laughs, tears, tips, ‘Thank Goodness It’s Not Just Me’ moments, and more…Some bloggers may even offer drawings for prizes to pamper YOU…You just need to follow along, read…and wait for more details on how you can get some great goodies as souvenirs on this Mother’s Day May Blog Tour.... Your posts can be as long or short as you want, picture, prose, poetry…anything Mom related is perfect!!

I actually had something inspiring in mind to write about today, but the events of the past few days have caused me to change my mind. Instead, I will be writing about the realities of having a child with autism. It's not going to be pretty, or inspiring and probably most of the folks participating in this blog hop won't be able to say "Thank Goodness it's not just me," but it's certainly "Mom related." Sorry, Christine, if I messed up the purpose of the hop, but this is the reality of my life as a mom.

Also, I had to write this stupid thing twice, due to the Bloggerpocalypse of May 2011, so apologies for getting it up late!


Wednesday afternoon I had picked up the kids and we were walking to the car. I heard a voice behind us yelling "Jacob!" (Child 1. I'm using his real name today. Fuck it) and I look behind me to see another kid in Jake's class walking next to him, leaning in close, saying something; and then Jake said something back. I thought "huh. That's not right." Jake doesn't have any friends and certainly no friends that would call his name to get him to stop walking so that he could lean in close and share a secret or something. I didn't hear what was said and the kid ran off to whatever car that was waiting for him.

I made Jake tell me what had just happened. Apparently the kid had asked him to say "I put baby Jesus in a time machine and he turned into big Jesus."

What the fuck does that mean? I asked Jake what that meant, and he said "it's a joke!"

What the fuck is funny about that?

This is clearly not a joke; at least not one that Jake is a part of. This is another kid using MY kid as the fucking butt of some kind of game. Asking him to repeat something that makes no sense... for what purpose? The only option is that Jake was being made fun of.

It's possible I was overreacting. I mean... I do that, especially when it comes to Jake. I am fiercely overprotective of him when it comes to any kind of potential bullying. So, I kept calm (for the most part). We went home and I sent an email to his teacher. Then I googled the phrase, thinking maybe it was a line from a movie or something? I couldn't find anything.

Thursday morning we went to school and after I had dropped them both off in their respective locations I went back to the yard where I knew Jake would be, with all the other kids, waiting for the bell to ring.

I walk up to Jake, who is with the kid I saw the day before, and 2 others, just as he's finishing saying "... and he turned into big Jesus."

"Why do you guys do that?" I butted in. My hands were shaking.

Wow. The looks on their faces clearly meant that inside their heads at that moment they were saying to themselves "BUSTED."

"Because it's funny" they mumbled, refusing to look me in the eye.

"What's funny about it?" I asked.

No response. Just more looking at the ground. So I asked again.

"WHAT'S funny about it?"

"Nothing." The one kid said.

"So if it's not funny, why do you do it?" I asked.

Then I looked at Jake, who had a huge smile on his face. Mama is here to be a part of this fun game that I do with the other kids, he was thinking. Yay Mama!

The bell rang and I headed back towards the building to find his teacher, who had responded to my email in the meantime (I got it on my phone) saying that she had no idea what was going on and "irrespective of what it means, there is a deeper problem of their treatment of Jake as some sort of "toy" for lack of a better expression."

I found her in the hallway and told her what had just happened. She was pissed. She said she'd get to the bottom of it. I had no choice but to trust her, leave the school and go to work.

I came back around lunchtime because I had volunteered to help with something and I spotted her again in the hallway. She told me that when Jake was out of the room she had talked to the class about it. Yeah, it was a game they were playing; they thought it was funny to make him say weird things, and he happily went along with it, thinking that this is just what friends do. But they were laughing at him when they did it. There's nothing funny about this.

She confronted the kids in front of the class and the whole room had a talk about it. There are some good kids in that class who like to look out for him, and now, apparently, they will be paying more attention. Afterwards she called all 3 of their parents. I wanted to contact their parents but she said it would be better for her to call them, at least at first. Yeah, she's probably right. She also wrote them all up or something. I like her. She did good for my kid.

Jake has no idea what's going on. He honestly thinks these kids are his friends; he has no clue they're making fun of him. I have no intention of educating him otherwise, at least not at this point. He doesn't need to know the truth, and I'm not sure if he would even understand it. I'm the only one who has been hurt by this (and hubs) there's no reason to make Jake hurt, too; at least not while he's still too young to drink. The adults have gotten involved and are taking care of it for him. Educate these kids; educate their parents and maybe next time they'll actually think about their actions before they do something like this.

But what if I hadn't heard it? It would just continue on and on. And what's going to happen next? We can maybe educate these three kids about how not to be a complete douche, but there are a ton of other kids. More to come. Next year... the year after... then fucking middle school. It's just going to get worse and at some point Jake is going to have to get clued in to what's going on here; I'm not going to be able to protect him every time.

I feel sick to my stomach and just want to lie down and cry. I always knew 3rd grade would be when it started. I guess we're here now.



Please visit the next person in Blog Hop line when she posts tomorrow: What Did She Say.

Here is also the blogger who hopped yesterday: I Love Purple More Than You



Wednesday, May 11, 2011

I got an STD. From the Internet!

STD Award


Yeah. It's a meme. I know, I know, I don't usually do these things. I've explained why before (can't find the post where I explained why before so just trust me that I've explained why before). Except this one was created by my Bloggy/Twitter buddy Lady Estrogen. And I happen to have some experience with creating memes and then hoping like hell they don't just fizzle out, so I've decided to participate in this one. Also because it calls for lying. I like lying.

So, yeah. There you have it. The Sexy & Talented Diploma! Also known as STD. But that was just a coincidence, I'm sure. Kind of like how Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds was a coincidence. (Oh! Is that an acronym for THAT? I didn't even REALIZE!!! Yeah, okay John. Whatever). This was given to me by Lady Estrogen, in her first round of awards, no less. Thanks, Lady! I'll try not to let you down :)

Here are the rules:

1. Make up ONE totally ridiculous story about yourself that is a complete rip-off from a movie. It can be as long or short as you want; clean or crass as you want.

2. Pass it on to whomever you feel is deserving of this STD - or accept it and keep it for yourself; it's your blog - it's your choice. I'M PRO CHOICE!

3. If you choose to accept this STD, please link your acceptance post back here. (I'll keep it open for at least all summer.) There's a very good chance that I'll be sporadically choosing random winners to get some of my world famous mediocre Estro-goodies. I know you want some!

And we're off!!



A long time ago I used to have this boyfriend that we called T.S. At one point we had plans to go to Florida but then my Dad, who makes games shows on TV, asked me to be in one of his shows because the girls who was supposed to be on it fucking died so I had to cancel the Florida trip. T.S. acted like a total douche about it and I just told him to go fuck himself. I don't know what his fucking problem was.

Anyway, when it came time to do the game show, which was like a Dating Game type thing, T.S. somehow managed to get himself into the game and pretended to be one of the contestants and then he asked me to marry him right there in front of everybody and on TV! It was awesome.

We got divorced, though, a few years later. I don't know what happened to him. I hear he hangs out a lot on Twitter now.


I'm passing this award onto my Sisters in Shitty Stick Figure Self Portraits, Princess Muffintop and Handflapper. I mean, come on.... look at the three of us together, it's like a fucking badly drawn stick figure family reunion over here. Weird, right??








Out of the mouths of babes: This time he was coached

Last week I kept Child 2 home from school (because of the barfing) but I had a haircut appointment that I didn't want to miss (have you heard of my tuft? My tuft needs constant care) so I decided to bring him along.

A few hours before the appointment, hubs and I started prepping him.

"When you meet John, this is what you need to say to him. Okay, let's practice. Hi! I'm John! Nice to meet you! What do you say?"

We got there, and practiced a few more times, and finally the big moment had arrived.

John came over...  and I made the introductions.

Me: John, this is Child 2. Child 2, this is John.

John: Hi Child 2, nice to meet you.

Child 2: I want a Flock of Seagulls!


Good work, son. Very good work.





Tuesday, May 10, 2011

It's my Blogthday!

Yes, that's right! One year ago today I said to Google, "You know what, Google? Fuck it. Let's give this blogging shit a try, what do you say??" So I picked my favorite expression (at the time; I think we all know that if I started this blog today it would be called "I KNOW, right?") and started this fucker up. My first post was called I don't know what I'm doing. And guess what? One year later and I still don't know!

At first I told two people about it: Hubs and a friend. Then I told my online friends about it. Then I told my Facebook friends about it. And then... I don't know what the hell happened.  365 days and 571 posts later, I've managed to attract almost 400 followers. How? No fucking clue. Seriously. Who are you people?

Since I am a Bookkeeper, and a dork, I can't let this auspicious event go by without using Excel in some way, so here's a chart I made which neatly categorizes my 571 posts into friendly and easy to read graph form.





I thought about perhaps doing a retrospective; a "look back," if you will, at the last year. I could talk about things I've learned, how I've grown as a person; maybe give some advice to newbie bloggers; tell you how I did it and whatnot, but fuck that! Seriously, who gives a shit? Would anybody actually want to read that crap? And, really, if you're taking blogging advice from me I think you're probably cursed or doomed or drunk or something. So, no. Instead I've asked my friend Kendall from This Is Not That Blog (formerly known as the 21st century mrs) to draw me a picture of myself celebrating my one year blogging anniversary, in the way that only she can. YAY!





One thing I will do, though, is list for you 5 of my favorites so we can all have a good laugh. At me.

A whole day to myself, 6/27/10

Artichoke: You're trying too hard, 7/22/10

Laundry: FUCK YEAH!!!!!!!, 8/14/10

Sometimes you just have to admit defeat, 2/3/11

I REALLY need to monitor this child's library usage better, 2/23/11



Monday, May 9, 2011

Things I Find In My House VII

Yeah, you know what? This is not actually a fun discovery first thing in the morning, pre-contact lens insertion AND pre-caffeine.


I thought it was real at first. Then I took a closer look


I'm pretty sure real lizards aren't usually that bright a shade of yellow.



Sunday, May 8, 2011

Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Mother's Day to all my mommy friends and bloggers and tweeps. Here's hoping you get everything you want today (meaning, uninterrupted time to sleep one off, followed by breakfast in bed, followed by being left the fuck alone for the rest of the day).




Saturday, May 7, 2011

And I still would

The Thinking Person's Guide to Autism, on their Facebook page, posted a link to the BlogHer article that featured my "Yes I would" thingy about autism. So now all these people are coming over here, and all those other places, and giving me some shit for what I said.

But it's kind of like nobody actually read what I wrote and is just having a visceral reaction to the idea of the pill in general, so I'm going to take a moment to re-state everything I said, but this time in bullet points, to make it easier to understand and to eliminate the straw man.

  • My son is sweet and awesome and I love him exactly the way he is right now
  • My life has actually benefited from my child having autism. Without autism I believe MY life would be worse off. But this isn't about me.
  • Autism causes my child sensory and emotional pain
  • I would like for him to not be in pain, and if there was a pill that would do that, I would give it to him
  • After the pill, his sensory and emotional pain would be gone and he would STILL be the same person he is now: sweet and awesome. 

EDIT: I just put this in the comments and I'm putting it here, too, so that it won't get missed:

I have no problem with somebody disagreeing with me, particularly in a well considered way. You know me and you know that I encourage people to give me their opinion regardless of whether or not it will be controversial or if I agree with it. It's not that difficult for me to have my work out there on an emotional level, to tell you the truth. I've been at this online thing for a LONG time and as long as people are respectful, I'm happy with disagreement.

What I DO have a problem with is people who don't read what I actually wrote, who formulate an argument that I didn't make and then attack me for something I didn't say. That I have a big problem with.

This post isn't for what anybody said over at BlogHer or even what was said on Facebook, this post is for the people who commented HERE.

EDIT2: There's something really wonky about my commenting dealie here. Comments get posted but then they seem to disappear on their own somehow. Most of them are mine, since I comment here more than anybody else, and I have no idea what the deal is. SO, if you've commented, and it's gone now, it's not because I deleted it, because I don't delete comments, it just went away for some reason. I'm sorry about that! I always get an email notification which contains the contents of your comment so if that happened to you, let me know and I can send it to you for re-posting.



      Friday, May 6, 2011

      Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play ball in the house???

      Child 2 has requested that he write this blog entry (not like last time). I am just the portal through which his art flows:

      We were playing ball. Child 2 kicked the ball. It broke the lamp. The end.




      Does insane still count as okay?

      That's how I responded to a text today from my friend who asked "are you okay?" She said it does still count. So... YAY! I'm okay!!

      Because... you see.... the Puke Fairy is back. And this time... it's personal. (Read that in the movie preview guy voice that you keep in your head).

      Why do I always assume that when my kids say they don't feel well they're just faking it to get out of school? Why is my natural instinct to not believe them? Is it because when I was their age I would pretend to be sick so I could get out of school, like... ALL the time? Perhaps.... (hmmmm. I may be onto something here. Clearly further study is indicated).

      Anyway, this morning they both said they didn't feel well and couldn't go to school. I didn't believe either of them. Then they both barfed. Suddenly I became a true believer. Child 2 has been barfing repeatedly, actually, and now is lying prone on the couch watching some really weird cartoon (that I'm almost certain just said "fuck") about bunnies that's kind of creeping me out.... and I'm BORED. SO BORED.

      I should probably go through Google Reader since I have 360 unread blog posts I could read and comment on right now. I'm not sure I have the mental energy for that. So, I've been typing random phrases into Google to see what happens. Check it out!

      Seriously, though... what IS the last name of the British Royal family? I've never given it a moment's thought until this very minute... AAAAAAAAAAAAND it's gone
      OMG!! Twitter is gay??? Emily, did you know that???
      The first thing that alcohol affects is your ability to not hit "send."
      I would bet you a million dollars that only men were searching for how to put a tampon in
      I actually selected one of these suggestions. Can you guess which one? Please ask me because I've learned so much and I totally want to share!!!!!!
      Nothing?? WHAT THE FUCK, GOOGLE???
      And a tip of the invisible hat to YOU, Mrs. Ped.  Quite.



      Thursday, May 5, 2011

      I either saved a bird's life or I guaranteed it a slow and painful death. I'm not sure which.

      I'm sitting in my office earlier and I hear this weird kind of squeaking noise. At first I thought it was a new stim I hadn't heard before so I just ignored it. But it sounded a lot like a bird and it was really loud. Plus Child 1 wasn't even in the room, so that kind of ruled out the "new stim" theory.

      I get up and follow the noise and I find one of our cats has something in her clutches, and she has an audience; other cats were watching her work. She would bat at it, it would make these fluttering sounds, some squeaking sounds, and she would clamp down on it with her paws again. She was clearly torturing a bird. Bitch!

      So I pick up a piece of hot wheels track, which we are fortunate enough to have fucking everywhere in our house, and I shoo the cat away with it, leaving behind this sad and definitely crippled bird who keeps trying to get up and fly away but can't.

      I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with this sad little birdie; this is the kind of thing that hubs usually deals with and he wasn't there. I do know that I can't just leave it on the floor of my TV room, though, so I use the hot wheels track to scoop it into a helmet which also just happens to be lying there on the floor (handy!) and I take the little thing outside.

      Outside.... where all the cats were: waiting for us. I gently deposit the bird underneath the lavender bush and I, uh.... leave it there. To its fate? I guess? But I made sure to close the door behind me because I sure as hell don't want dead bird pieces all over my TV room!

      Yeah, I'm pretty sure I did that wrong. Sorry, all birds everywhere. But what the hell else was I supposed to do with it? Flush it? Kill it with my bare hands, thus allowing it to die quickly rather than slowly and painfully for the mere amusement and sport of a cat? No fucking way! I'm not killing any goddamn birds, that's what the fucking cats are for! I don't know what happened to it, I didn't go back out there to find out. I figured there would be some kind of bird tribunal waiting for me, ready to send my murdering soul to eternal damnation where my eyeballs would be pecked at for all of eternity and the sound of chirping would ring constantly in my ears.

      Hubs says he would have found a high plant somewhere and put the bird in there, rather than putting it on the ground, practically on a platter for the evil beasts.

      At least the lavender was kind of like a garnish.



      Wednesday, May 4, 2011

      Well, actually... I LOVE standardized tests!!!

      Child 1 was better today and went to school. When we got home this afternoon I quizzed him about his day. Here is our conversation:

      Me: What did you do in school today?

      C1: Good (he always says that! Because he "memorized" the proper answer to "how are you?" and so he always throws this one out first)

      Me: No... what did you DO today? (This is always what I say!)

      C1: Nothing

      Me: Did you hang out with Ms. H?

      C1: Yes!

      Me: What did you guys do?

      C1: We did testing! (he seems very happy about this. In fact, it's pretty unusual that we ever even make it this far in the after school quizzing process)

      Me: Testing? Cool! What did you think?

      C1: It was fun! (still really excited)

      Me: Fun? (seriously??) Why was it fun?

      C1: Because I like filling in the bubbles.

      Me: Cool. So, are you going to do more testing tomorrow?

      C1: YES!!

      So, there you have it. He thinks The Test is fun. I didn't even bother asking if he got the answers right, he clearly didn't care about that part. I'm sure his score will, once again, be Really Really Shitty, but he had fun!! So, fuck it. He gets to take it. It's like a treat!



      Tuesday, May 3, 2011

      I barf on your standardized test!

      So, standardized testing starts this week. For anybody with a kid in public school grade two or higher you know what I'm talking about. This is how school districts and states and everybody with an opinion, informed or otherwise, determine "how well" a school is doing. No Child Left Behind puts particular emphasis on the importance of test scores and if you don't do well you end up in what they call "Program Improvement." Our school is in year 5 of PI and I think our district is, too. This is supposed to mean a lot of No Good Really Bad Things for both the school and the district, and I've been hearing of dire warnings for years now about how the entire world will come to a screeching halt once we're in PI Year 5. I'm still waiting for that to happen.

      Anyway, I've never known what to do with Child 1 and The Test. He can't take it without what they call "accommodations," which apparently means his score doesn't even count? I honestly have no idea and no matter how much I try I can't seem to find anybody who will explain this to me in a way I can understand it.

      First of all, in my personal opinion, I think that relying on standardized test scores to judge how a school is doing is pretty stupid, particularly since (theoretically) the consequences of failing are supposed to be so dire. Not all kids are good at tests, I never was, but that doesn't mean I'm not smart. And it seems like everybody (adults) puts so much pressure on these kids to Do Well On The Test, how could you not crack under that kind of pressure? Not to mention the pressure that teachers get for their students to get good scores. Every teacher I know will tell you that the test isn't a measure of how well their students are doing, it's a measure of how well they are doing, as teachers. And then their teaching ability is judged by their students' scores, sometimes with some pretty fucked up consequences (read that article, I'm going to refer to it later and you're going to feel stupid for not knowing what I'm talking about). I don't understand how The Test is an accurate measure of anything, really.

      And then there's that whole "Teach to the test" thing that pisses people off so much, and rightly so IMO. Because of all the pressure for teachers to "do well," all they end up caring about during the school year is making sure the kids know which bubbles to fill in when the time comes, and that becomes their entire focus. When this happens, kids don't get a whole education, they only get the bits and pieces that they'll need once they get that scantron form. This may be an unfortunate truth, but it's obviously stupid.

      And then there are all the subgroups and demographics and statistical blah blah blah that I simply do not understand, and frankly I don't even want to understand it. Please don't talk to me about how this particular group of African American kids in this grade and this class need to get this particular percentage because I don't know what you mean.

      Okay, so... do I let my kid take the test or not? This is the question that I'm now facing for a second year. Every year I wonder what I should do, every year I ask people for their opinion and every year I still have no idea what I should do. So I end up saying "okay, fuck it, let him take it." Because I doubt he even knows he's taking a test, much less this Very Very Very Important Test. They pull him out of class and into the Learning Closet (formerly known as The Learning Center, but when the district decided to add a fifth 3rd grade class this year, naturally the SPED kids were the first to get the shaft, so they were moved from a nice big classroom and into a closet in order to make room. YAY!) and he hangs out with the Resource Teacher, who he likes and hangs out with all the time, anyway. She tests him, I guess, and he does his thing, I guess, and in the end we get a score in the mail over the summer. This is what we did last year and his scores came back as "Shittiest Scores Ever." That's actually what it said! (No it didn't.)

      So, if his score doesn't count (I think) and they all suck, anyway, what the fuck is the point of him taking it? Because whenever the issue comes up, our Principal always STRESSES HOW IMPORTANT IT IS FOR HIM TO TAKE THE TEST REGARDLESS OF THE OUTCOME. Usually the argument is "he's going to be taking tests his whole life, he might as well get used to it," which I have never once bought. Because pulling him out of class to hang out in the Learning Closet, which is something he does every day of the week, doesn't seem to be adequate preparation for a life time of test taking and I don't see how anybody could make the argument that it IS. So I've always thought there was some other motivation going on there, because they really want him to take it... but why?

      It was explained to me once that the Resource Specialist and the Principal had some kind of test participation quota they needed to meet and by having Child 1 take the test they were something something percentages good for them? (Okay, it's possible I didn't really understand the explanation; I mean, come on. I'm smart, but I'm not THAT smart!) So, having my kid in the Learning Closet and going through the test motions is a benefit to the school? Even though his score sucks? And it doesn't even count? Well, okay, honestly, I'm cool with that. I have nothing but respect for anybody who would even dare stand up in front of a room full of kids and try to teach them shit, so I usually just do whatever they tell me. If I thought for a second that my kid's self esteem was at all impacted by any of this, I assure you I would have a much stronger opinion about it, but he doesn't seem to give a shit, so neither do I. Fuck it! Let him take it!

      But then there's the whole "taking a political stance" by having my kid opt out, which all parents are allowed to do, by the way; nobody is actually required to take the test, despite what school officials will tell you. (Apparently teachers all know this but they're not allowed to tell parents.) And, shit, I'm ALL for taking a political stance if it's something I believe in, but as I've said, I've never been able to get a satisfying explanation from anybody about why I should or shouldn't have my kid take the test, so I've toyed with the idea but never actually done it. But... would my opting him out have been able to help save Rigoberto Ruelas' life, or others that may come after him? That's a good enough reason for me, I'll do anything to help teachers... but is that what I should do? Is it the right thing to do? And if it is... how? And WHY?

      Anyway, it's only our 2nd year with this, but I go through this every time we have an IEP and every time the subject is mentioned. And I never know what to do. And I never feel good about what I decide because I've never been able to form a solid opinion on the subject and I don't like being uninformed.

      My point? Yes, I do have one: Standardized testing starts this week! And there I was, wondering once again if I was doing the right thing, when Child 1 wakes up and apparently makes the decision for me, in the form of fucking barfing everywhere.... repeatedly. Guess he's not taking the test, after all! Um. Thanks?



      Monday, May 2, 2011

      rock band singing expert points

      I wrote this post on Saturday night when I was drunk and have only edited it for the (many, and often hilarious) typos..... hee hee.....

      What? My post title is confusing to you? Well, I typed it that way because if you were doing a Google search for this particular issue that's pissing me off, those are probably the terms you would use. SO, maybe if other people did this, they might find me. And be able to help me. So this post isn't necessarily for you, my loyal and wonderful readers... this post is for The Whole Internetz.

      (This is not actually me singing, this is a video I found online)




      Because, you see, I need help. I've been working on this same song over and over and over and I can't for the life of me figure out what the fuck I'm supposed to be doing differently to make my score better than what it is. But because I'm stupidly competitive in that weird way that we're all aware of I guess, I can't let it go, so I keep trying and trying and trying and trying and always getting pretty much the same result. Only 2,804 more points to get to #13 on the Leaderboard.

      First try. Only 2,804 to get to #13! Awesome!

      Second try. 1,028 more points and, uh... only 2,804 to get to #13? HUH?

      Because Fuck You Rock Band. I don't know what you want from me. I've done the same fucking song again and again and I do it "perfectly" every time, and yet, apparently, I don't do it up to your standards. At least not well enough to do any better than I've done all the last times. And it's pissing me off. What am I supposed to be doing differently??? How do you get more points here? What do you want from me, Rock Band?

      #1 has 4,560 more points than I do. HOW? HOW??????????

      How the fuck do I do better than I have done? I've sat here in my TV room, by myself I might add, because there's no bass part and hubs got bored... and I've done this song again and again and again AND AGAIN AND AGAIN and I can't do any better than I've done.

      WHAT AM I DOING WRONG? OH MY GOD SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL ME.

      EDIT: Related



      Sunday, May 1, 2011

      And we have a winner! Actually two winners.

      The winners of my first and probably only giveaway I will ever do are K who I don't know, but she said she reads BD's blog a lot so hopefully she'll make her way over here, and Gina from Special Happens, who I do know. YAY YOU GUYS!!!

      Child 2 helped me with the whole thing. I asked Child 1 to help but he said he was too busy. Seriously. He was watching train videos on YouTube and that is very time consuming as you know. Here's how we did it:

      First I put everybody's name on a piece of paper.



      Then we cut them into individual strips


       Then we put the strips in a bowl and Child 2 closed his eyes and picked out two of them


       And here are the results! YAY!!!


      So, Gina and K, please email me at jillsmo@gmail.com with your addresses and I'll get these out to you as soon as I go to the store and buy some mailing envelopes!



      Saturday, April 30, 2011

      OH MY GOD I'm doing a giveaway!

      EDIT: I closed comments so that I can pick a winner somehow.


      I know, right? ME? The most PR unfriendly blog EVER? Well, actually, I'm sure there are other blogs that are more PR unfriendly than I am, I mean... I don't even have any porn! (mental note).

      Anyway, I happen to be in the possession of a number of copies of Big Daddy's awesome new book Big Daddy's Tales From the Lighter Side of Raising a Kid With Autism. Did you even know there was a lighter side to this shit? I, for one, was not previously aware of that until this book arrived at my doorstep the other day. THANKS Big Daddy!!

      Anyway, I decided to do a giveaway. Put something in the comments explaining why you're too cheap to buy your own copy when they're only $10.99 fer chrissakes! I'm not entirely sure how I will pick a winner, but I will pick one and announce the winner on Monday. Or Tuesday. Or Sunday. I don't know what day. It might be completely random, I might just close my eyes and stab my finger at the monitor... who knows? I'm capable of pretty much anything, really. Enter as many times as you want; I mean, what the hell, why not? Oh, and there are a few of you who are not allowed to enter because I'm planning on giving you one of these. For example, if I have recently asked you for your address..... don't enter. Seriously.

      And just in case you think I'm lying about actually having this in my possession, you untrusting bastards, I've taken a picture of said book lying next to one of Child 1's intricate drawings of a BART station as proof. Kind of like when you take a picture of a kidnap victim holding up a newspaper with today's date on it to prove you actually have them.