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Dribbles and Grits to Crumpets and Bollocks: February 2013

Dribbles and Grits to Crumpets and Bollocks

Dribbles and Grits to Crumpets and Bollocks: February 2013

Thursday, February 28, 2013

Crafty Neighbors... Crafty I tell you.

So when you see me come home from the craft store with blank stretched canvas, that means I'm about to hand my kids some water based washable paint and a bunch of brushes. I've been doing that since the beginning of time with them. For years, I refused to buy coloring books. They got blank canvas or blank paper. Now, they prefer that. The 5 and 6 year old have figured out just recently what to do with a coloring book, but they are fabulous artists who'd prefer to draw a picture. They express their emotions in their art (healthy), and they are developing their talent (we all are uniquely talented). Blah blah blah blah I'm fucking awesome. Haha. Only thing is, I have a lot of canvases that are painted a red brown. It looks like abstract art. Just about all of them look like this. One had a tree in the middle, and then they painted over it. Some of them end up more of a brown or green. On a plus note, my kids are now starting to paint rainbows and hearts.

This doesn't exactly match everyone's decor, and kids love it when you hang their art work up on the walls.

So, I saw my neighbor today with stretched canvases coming home from the craft store. She has no idea I'm blogging about her, so I must talk about her behind her back for a second. She's OCD, and an opposite of it than I am. I freak out about stuff you can't see. She freaks out about stuff you can see. Her house is always spotless, beautifully decorated, and it smells fabulous, which is remarkable considering she has a 5 and 6 year old. I get a Donna Reed boner every time I go down there. She's the reason why I do those wax warmers now.

With that said, the pictures my kids paint would probably drive her nuts on her walls. Too much chaos. Too abstract. Her living room is decorated in Steelers (Go STEELERS), black and white extra thick canvas photos of her family, and warming inspirational quotes. She's a candle fanatic too, preferring Yankee candles for the scent, but decorating with all sorts of candles she will light with the Yankee candles and the wax burners. Her favorite color scheme for decorating is simply black and white.

So here are her wall friendly crafts she did with her kids, and I know they are on her walls because I could hear her hammering in the nails (or it was my kids just playing in my closet).

First the Tree of Life...


Each hand print on the tree is one hand from each member of her family. How freaking cute is that? And it's definitely worthy of hanging on your living room wall without looking like Hobby Lobby threw up on it.

Then her oldest child did this one...









Cut out a heart on paper (or any shape you want), and tape it on the canvas. Spray paint the canvas black (or any color, or leave it white) and let it dry. Glue the crayons on the canvas. Let it dry. Tilt the canvas and use your blow drier to melt the crayons..they will start to splash everywhere in the canvas. When that cools and hardens, remove the paper and let the child paint the heart. The butterfly, she hot glued it after.




















For this one, her younger daughter, she cut out the letters L and E with paper and taped it to the canvas. Then she spray painted the canvas black (you can use any color combo here). After it dried, she removed the paper and painted her daughter's hands first and put it on the canvas then the feet..then they colored the L n the E.

She says you can do a lot too with broken crayons and the blow dryer. Google and Pinterest are both full of ideas. Probably where she got these.























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A True Love Letter

Dear Prince Charming True Love Soul Mate guy:

I was waiting for you. I waited and waited and waited. Then my biological clock started ticking and I really was sick of being in a position where I might catch an STD just because I needed something to cuddle up to that night. I needed to settle down and do the family making thing. You were no where to be found outside of my dreams.

So, I married some guy. He was the best possible option made available to me in the history of my options. Deep down inside, he's a good guy. His parents are fucking crazy and I now have the worst possible scenario for in-laws, and his culture raised him to expect 1950's gender roles bull shit, but he lets me blog and blow copious amounts of money on Diet Coke. The best part is, we reproduced. We now have little spawns who never would have existed had I not settled for Adele's "Someone Like You."

So here I am trying to enjoy my "This will do" ever after, but I can't. Nope. Destiny. Soul Mates. Blah blah blah. I keep diving down that hole chasing a white rabbit with a clock bitching about being late. The problem is, that world may or may not exist. That world might be my own insanity. That world, things don't make sense. Meanwhile, I'm sleeping through this world who will never measure up to Wonderland.

I am having dreams about you, all the time. I can't forget you. My sleep won't let me. Then I wake up and try to make sense of things like most people do. Between God, astrological charts, dream interpretation, The Magic 8 Ball, and so forth, everything tells me to have faith, leaving me wishing and hoping you will come swoop me off my feet out of this life I settled for and give me the life I dreamed of, the one we were "destined" for... I've decided to drop the faith.

I decided that you are nothing more than an illusion fabricated by my insanity and needs and wants and desires and Freudian stuff. You don't exist. You never have. Real romance is not Disney's Cinderella. It's Voltaire's Candide. It's a story about a young optimistic person who endures reality. Life broke his dreams. He didn't get to enjoy his true love until after she was old, ugly, and scarred from her life, and by then, there was nothing left to enjoy. All they could do is find peace in boring life things and the company.

That's where I'm at. I'm not with that true love dream I had. I'm with this husband guy instead. Life did a number to him much like it did with me, and we are at the part of the fairy tale where we just learn to be content with mundane tasks like the dishes.

Just because I am rejecting True Love Faith and have decided you are an illusion, that doesn't mean I'm totally rejecting you. If you really are out there, when you decide to grace my life with your presence, I'm all about happily ever after. I'll be your down ass bitch then. But until then, I have to exchange some of the intangibles for the tangible.

No matter the Destiny, free will is a bitch, and we both married the bitch. May God protect you and may you live, laugh and love and all that jive. Peace out I'm doing laundry.

Sincerely,

Alice Not In Wonderland

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Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Tax Refund: It's Fiscalicious


Because my original purpose with this blog was to write informative articles in an interesting way, and while my crazy ones about rumors and shrinkological disorders are probably more popular, I'm going to get serious for a second (sort of) and discuss money because it's tax refund time for people who have the pitter patter of little tax deductions running around their joint.

I have written many articles about finance and financial management. I have managed businesses' money and got paid to do it. The reason I know so much about financial management is because I suck at it. I do. I am the impulse shopper who makes Bipolar people look fiscally conservative during their highs. I have absolutely zero self control, and many moons ago, I was the shop-a-holic (like I couldn't leave a store without a bag in my hand, and it still feels odd to do it). The sad thing is, all the shit I buy, I don't even use it. I buy toys I don't play with, and then I wonder where my children get it from. Instead of researching the psychological BS like it's going out of style, what do I do? I research and study the hell out of financial management. Part of it is because it was my job for a very long time, in my defense. Basically, in a nutshell, I'm poor because I blow money on the White Sale because I just need to have more dirty laundry to do... I must have been dropped on my head as a baby I swear it sometimes.

So, back to financial management. This year, I'm vowing to take my tax refund and stick it all in savings. I really wanted to do things with it, like buy a new to me used minivan because mine is getting sad. I want a new sofa because the kids have gooed this one into something I won't sit on without putting a blanket on top of it. I'd like to move. I'd like to travel. I'd like to take a vacation without the kids. Fuck me I just spent the whole thing and now I'm in debt up to my eyeballs.

There's a basic law in economics. Something about wants always exceeding needs. Basically, you are always ALWAYS going to want shit. You will always be wishing, dreaming, hoping, praying for something. Unless you are a Taoist Master who is truly content with nothing (as that's part of the uncarved block philosophy), you are going to want shit. You will get that shit, and then you are going to want more shit.

Okay, so we have our future to look forward to. Wanting stuff. Meanwhile, most of us have a past that haunts us. Debt. Yes, I owe money to loan sharks, and of the worst kind, student loans. Those people are ruthless too. Tip to whom it may concern: If you owe a debt where they take it out of your tax refund, and you file married filing joint, you can keep the portion your spouse would get by filing an Injured Spouse Form, assuming your spouse doesn't have a debt taking their refund.

I have friends who firmly believe the best way to financial freedom is to pay off debts first and then save. They have it down to a science. They take their pay checks, take out whatever they need to live off of (regular bills, groceries, etc.) and then they take the rest (they actually live with less than they make, must be nice) and pay off debts starting with the ones with the highest interest rates.

I disagree with that concept just slightly. Yes smart. If you really do have a crap-ton of money coming in that will feed and roof your family and have a bunch left over, fabufuckinglous for you. But where people like me mess up, I generally consider savings, like most other people, as a luxury. It is a luxury to have money sitting aside for a rainy day. Right? WRONG. Really, savings is just as important as the rent. It should come before debts, like maybe not everything left over from a pay check, but putting something aside is important. Reason being? Because the rent is important. The electric bill. Groceries. Most of the time, your savings is going to cover a month's rent, or that surprise we just added 600 dollars to your electric bill out of the freaking blue and we are guessing it's your AC or hot water tank that did it to you this month. It will cover that flat tire, the oil changes if you are short that moment which will in turn save your engine from blowing...

Savings is definitely much more important than a new sofa or upgraded vehicle, no matter how much my shit is shit...

USAA has this awesome service to its members. They offer free financial advice. I love it. I talk to those people frequently. They are who told me the importance of saving and how spending is stealing from your future blah blah blah. Now USAA recommends, like 50 people at that place recommended this to me in the last 10 years, to have a savings of a thousand dollars for invariable expenses like property taxes, oil changes, vehicle maintenance. This is to handle expenses that don't occur every month. You constantly put back into it and maintain it. THEN they suggest an emergency savings that will cover 3 to 6 months of the income you are used to receiving in the case you can't work for a minute (like you get hurt or lose your job). Now of course, this is a paradigm, and to someone like me, it's never going to happen.

I can come up with 50 different savings accounts for things I want to save up for, like Christmas, vacation, vehicles, house, camper, a 44 magnum with an extra long barrel like Dirty Harry used... Then I'm back at square one. I just spent all my savings.

I think the main part of savings is turning your wants of things to buy into wants of things to invest. Instead of wanting a sofa, want stock. Instead of wanting a new car, want a retirement. They are all listed as assets on a balance sheet in accounting nerd world, but the difference is cash assets CAN make more money whereas non-cash assets generally depreciate (they become worth less money). Unless you are investing in a car that will be worth more money in 5 years than it is now (like a classic)...

In the past, when we were doing well before we drifted off up shit creek without paddles, I had most of my savings going into a ROTH IRA. The beautiful thing about that was the pot of gold end of rainbow awesome, it was like doubling in a year. I got a Scrooge boner looking at the statements. The other awesome things about it, I opted that as my kids' college savings until we needed it for rent and stuff. I guess if you pull out of it early for education, they don't penalize you with taxes. This way, if your kid gets a scholarship, grant, or decides not to go to college, you can still use it towards your retirement.

The other thing I did, I put a little into a money market account. It too made me some money on interest. But that is really dependent on the financial institution you go through unless you really want to get all economical Robert Deniro in the movie Casino about it. Me, I just told my bank, "Medium risk," and let them have at it. My bank did a decent job with it. They may or may not do so well next time.

But now, I think I do want to get Robert Deniro in the movie Casino about investing. Instead of looking for sales on new shoes I probably will only wear once in a year, I can look for sales of stocks I think might go up. Some of them are like a dollar a share. That's like going to the dollar store. It's about shifting perspective.

If you want to pay off debts while saving, I did this many years ago with my "Welcome to 18 here's 50 credit cards to "build" your credit by irresponsibly maxing these out so we can charge you fee after fee plus interest" debts. I found a CD (not Britney Spears, a Certificate of Deposit) that earned a higher interest than a loan. So I purchased CD, and then I borrowed against it using that money to pay off debts. Then I paid little by little on the loan, but I still earned more interest on the CD than I paid in the loan. I know what you are thinking, I'm freaking brilliant. Well, A, I didn't make a lot of money, and B, it was all God's idea. It just fell on my lap in a Fate like way. If you are thinking, "What? You lost me at Britney Spears..." Find the money financial nerd in your life, whether it's your mom or your husband, and tell them what I said here like it was your idea.

The other thing is, sort of non-related but related, indirectly related, my kids are spoiled. I've seen spoiled rich kids in their 30's. I don't like them. I don't want my kids turning into that. I need to remove a lot of the "luxuries" from this home. Not this house. This HOME. It is cluttering the HOME part of my family.

So, back to my original point, I'm taking my tax refund and saving it like a good grown up. I'm putting on my big girl britches and doing something smart. Discipline is really what it boils down to. Something I totally lack, like go down to my father's grave and ask him, and he will probably scream in a ghostly voice, "That girl lacks discipline and focus." But like my momma told me, "You are the most stubborn person I know. That can be a good thing if you are wiser about what you are stubborn about." So I'm vowing to be stubborn here about savings. I may end up buying a sofa though and then save the rest. It's a cheap sofa from Big Lots, so it's not like I'm totally blowing money. Right?



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Sunday, February 17, 2013

Roundhouse Bitch

Why Sylvester Stallone should choose me to play the role of his girlfriend in the next Expendables if they do another one, which they should:

1.  My father raised me to watch movies like Rocky, Rambo, Cobra, Tango and Cash... as well as Invasion USA, Delta Force, Missing in Action... and the Die Hards (and everything Bruce Willis was in including Breakfast of Champions which I didn't understand at all because I don't smoke crack), and whatever movies Van Damme was in including Bloodsport. I've probably seen all those movies at least 100 times.

Here we are about to kiss... look at the chemistry!!!
2.  I keep having a recurring dream where I'm the love object of the next Expendables, and my dreams are usually psychic.

3.  I also had a dream where I was on a date with Sylvester Stallone. I was like, "You want to watch a movie?" and he was like, "Anything but Rocky," and I was like, "How about Rambo?" He was like, "I'm going to the kitchen." So I go in to the kitchen with him, we both grab for the same knife at the same time and we kiss. It was awkward because I thought I was too inexperienced for him, so now I have to kiss him in real life to prove to him I am not too inexperienced, I know what I'm doing, and it's the best gotdammed kiss he'll ever have in his whole freaking life.

4.  I'm funny. In the dream I just had, Sylvester was like, "Honey, this might get dangerous," and I was like, "Please, I have children, nothing scares me." And, there was a part where Bruce Willis was like, "If you fuck up this job, I'm going to find you, beat you to death, and then I'm going to resuscitate you back to life so I can kill you again." And I was like, "Or even worse, I'll have you babysit my kids and I'll send them to YOUR place with legos, whistles, glitter and silly string right after feeding them Cajun food with beans and fun dip." We could even use one of my kids' dirty diapers as a weapon.

5.  I'll surprise dry hump Bruce Willis when he isn't looking.

6.  My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard. I have nice boobs. I mean that's important considering the target market. Apparently, these puppies were famous in high school. I had no idea until dudes 20 years later started telling me about them on Facebook (as well as some random dudes at the grocery store). I stare at them a lot in the mirror, but for many years, I thought that was just me being vain.

7.  I kind of look like Adrian. Not really, but I have brown hair and can be a total hottie nerd.

8.  I am an Air Force veteran (cough cough like Chuck Norris). I don't have to fake the PTSD part of my character, and I can do my owns stun... well I can aggressively file paperwork. There's a script isn't there? That's paperwork. I'll rock it.

9.  I'm double jointed, meaning I can do some cool kicks and splits and stuff. Wait a minute, this is me trying to be a girlfriend in a movie, not real life, well disregard.

10.  I cried during Rambo II (the speech at the end) and Chuck Norris's Delta Force 1 (the part with the cheesy music, wait, should be more specific huh, where the Jews get called to the front of the plane, the concentration camp tattoo, the woman who reminds me of my grandma, the cabbage patch doll, the priest...) Rambo II, tears. Uncontrollable tears. Especially when I was pregnant. BUT I didn't cry during the Titanic or the Notebook. I did cry over an episode of Oprah once, but in my defense, I was pregnant and ate an entire pie in one sitting.

11.  My father might actually come back from the grave to see it.

12.  I took down a Marine once, and it's quite possible I'm the only Air Force chick that has managed to do such a thing. I actually did some Jet Li moves I think when I did, like I flipped off this table and everything. All the other Marines were calling me Devil Dog. Basically, I'm a bad ass in real life too. Just don't ask me to do it again because I don't think I can.

13.  I have Rocky's theme song and Eye of the Tiger as top plays when working out.

14.  I am a rebel type, but in a mainstream sheeple sort of way, like in high school, people thought I was kissing a teacher's ass all morning during announcements, but really what happened was the teacher caught me and my friend sneaking liquor in our coffee and instead of being all "you are expelled," he was all, "let me have some." Then somehow, it accidentally became a morning ritual for us. I listen to Metallica and Ice Cube. That's rebel.

15.  I am a bitch. This makes for a great character who kills people. The meanest people I have ever in my life encountered, I mean meaner than drill sergeants and high-maintenance girl bullies, meaner than the 1976 Steeler's Defense, the meanest people I have ever had the pleasure to do business with, the public school administration and the PTA. Let's just say, they fear me. Like one time, there was a "fundraiser," which is a word the PTA uses for whoring out children into selling overpriced junk and compete like used car salesmen for time at the bouncy party. My child's PTA had it set up, you had to sell one item to get a half hour at the party, 10 items to attend the entire party. We are talking 600 children sharing one bouncy thing. I objected to it. Called it child abuse. Told them my kid will be at Chuck E. Cheese that day and the absence will be excused without a doctor's or parent's note. So, they decided to let my child's class have a couple hours on the bouncy thing when nobody else was using it, the whole class, including those who didn't sell one item... all because I'm not just a bitch, but I'm queen bitch. You should see me own the parking lot during the after school cluster fuck of chaos.

16.  I have a thing for pilots. Sylvester is a pilot in the movie. eHarmony couldn't do a better job.

17.  I know the age thing might be an issue, but the important thing is Sylvester Stallone aged well, and I haven't, so we look the same age. He's also younger than my father, barely, and that's what matters.

This is a picture of the first time
I never met him.


18.  I'm a libra. Nuff said.

19.  I know how to get my own coffee, so that's like money saved on assistants and shit.

20.  I will do it for almost free, like almost free means paying for the travel and partial living expenses (a nanny) and Chuck Norris shows me how to do the roundhouse kick, without killing me in the process. Ok, Chuck doesn't have to show me any secrets. I really just want a kissing scene with Sylvester (I have something to prove, see #3).

21.  I'm not an actress and I have stage fright.

**************************************************************
I'd also like to request that my character spits on people's foreheads before she kills them like the Outlaw Jose Wales, but since I can't spit without dribbling all over myself, we'll have to get a stunt double for the spitting.

I also require Peanut Butter to be present in my trailer because the Beach Boys require such a thing in theirs, and the Beach Boys are awesome. And how do I know this about the peanut butter? Play the video...





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Friday, February 15, 2013

Happy Pills for all the Assholes! Make it happen!

So yesterday, I had a horrific migraine most of the day. I suffered through it at the kids' school Valentine's Day Party (that's suffrage people), but once the kids were laying down... I had plans to hang with a friend last night, so I couldn't over medicate. I really swore this migraine was tension related, even if most of them anymore are not, and I was tense. I tried to make the husband rub my back and all it did was make his hands hurt.

So I took half of a Flexeril, muscle relaxer. Now these usually make me loopy, like imagine if the blond from all the dumb blond jokes were real and dyed her hair brown, that would be me on muscle relaxers. But they killed the migraine within 20 minutes, and every time I'm in a lot of pain like that and it goes away that fast, I get a buzz from that alone. The epidural gave me a huge buzz because we are talking a huge pain that just went away. Aleve will sometimes give me a buzz if my period cramps are bad enough. It's one of those buzzes that's like being high as a kite mixed with having a couple drinks. I just become one fucking happy bitch, like a severe case of the happy and wonderfuls.

One thing I swear all that did to me last night... I would almost swear everyone was on drugs, at least the nice people were.

Before heading over to my friend's house, I had some other errands to run. I took that muscle relaxer, went to BP (for the blue zombie drinks) and talked to a girl who I would swear was high. I go to Walmart (diapers and beer), and I talked to a woman who was suffering from MOM, but I think she was on some sort of prescribed happy pill or antianxiety med. Then I talked to a dude who was definitely on some sort of speed, like energy drinks, diet pills and cocaine. Like he didn't have the attention span to listen to himself finish what he was saying. Regardless, all those people were the nicest people.

Then I left my wallet at the counter because I do stuff like that with a pain be gone buzz, so some guy chases me out the door screaming at me to give me back my wallet, and he stopped me right next to these people socializing at Walmart because that's where you go to mingle. It was a cluster of women, the ones who inspired that guy to write the "you think you're cooler than me" song, high maintenance, low IQ... If they were moms, they'd be June Cleavers because they think they are cooler than me. The one dude in that group was looking at me like I was on crack "you forgot your wallet?" and I smiled and was like, "Migraine." He smiled and nodded like, "Awww," like he totally got it. The girls then looked at me like I was Satan walking in their church. How dare I speak to their really cool super awesome guy (who I think might of had a couple drinks), and one said something nasty that I totally ignored as I walked off, and all I could think was, "I bet they'd be nicer if they were medicated. Like we should make it law to force assholes into taking happy pills."

I really think I'm on to something, like a cure for asshattery.

On a more serious note, ladies... Why would a man surrounded by "beautiful" women ignore them to pay attention to the girl in black pants and a dark blue MedExpress t-shirt with a black leopard print jacket? My hair was crazy too, and I had makeup under my eyes. Why? Because women need to understand, you can't cover ugly with make-up and fashion. If your personality is the reason people created words like cunt, and a guy is with you at all, he probably cheats on you to get a break from you. I mean really, if the best thing you have to offer people about yourself is what anyone can buy from a cheap whore, you have nothing to offer. That is why men with women like that stop to pay attention to women like me. It's because I'm not an asshole. Men, while they really do like boobs and ass, deep down inside, they like women who are confident. I don't have to tear people down to make myself appear taller.

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Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Shrinkological Disorder Shenanigans

This is a post about things I think we should add to the DSM (Diagnostic Statistics Manual), AKA, the Bible of Shrinkological Disorders. Note: These are not in there at all right now, and probably will NEVER find their way into this book.

Note: "DSM-5 is scheduled for release in May 2013," according to the DSMV website... Just in case you were curious...



Without further adieu...
1. Overcompensating Personality Disorder

Description:
Frequently referred to as Short Man Syndrome and The Napoleon Complex, Overcompensating Personality Disorder (OPD) affects both men and women. The essential feature is that Individuals with OPD inadvertently overcompensate for having something less than expected by societal standards with aggression and domineering qualities. As a result, they generally appear to their peers as a-holes. Many also have a problem succeeding in their career and maintaining healthy relationships. Unfortunately, most of them are not suicidal. This disorder is an Axis II diagnosis; however, in their peers, it can be an Axis IV diagnosis as they can cause psychological problems for people forced to work with them or live with them. People with OPD are sometimes a stressor to other people as many people with OPD turn into bullies, hence the importance of treating it is more for society's sake than the person who has OPD. The cause of OPD is unknown, but indicators show a genetic, environmental mix. Freud's theories of psychosexual stages may explain some environmental variables.

Diagnostic Criteria:

(I). A need to overcompensate including, but not limited to, the following:
  • A wittle wing wang on men
  • Small breasts on women
  • Short height
  • Lighter Skin Tone on people who are trying to be gangsta'
  • A vagina trying to succeed in a world of penises
AND

(II). Four or more of the following:
  1. Aggression without provocation
  2. Difficulty controlling anger
  3. Domineering Personality
  4. Low Self Esteem
  5. Bullying behaviors
  6. Threatens violence
  7. Mild Paranoia (sees threats when they aren't there, such as new employee at work doing his job)
  8. Big truck with over-sized tires

Treatment:

While an ass kicking seems like an obvious solution, it is not. It will just make the situation worse. Treatment includes therapy that confronts possible psychological causes, corrects undesired behaviors, and focuses on finding less a-holeish ways to fit in. May suggest to patient to try out the big truck with over-sized tires if they don't already have one.



2. MOM Syndrome

MOM Syndrome is an STD that affects only women. For men who think they have MOM Syndrome, see DAD Syndrome. Women who suffer from MOM often generally also suffer from a cocktail of mental health problems and physical health problems. The essential characteristic of MOM Syndrome is The Bat Shit Crazy. The cause is children as a product of sexual activity, but MOM can be complicated by, as well as complicate, other variables, some also caused by children, such as sleep deprivation, back and hip problems from child birth, poor nutrition..., and some not caused by children such as existing health conditions before the onset of reproduction. While there is no known cure for MOM Syndrome, experts are NOT studying or looking for a cure because nobody really gives a damn, not even on Mother's Day. MOM Syndrome is coded as an Axis 6 diagnosis, and for those who are unaware of the Axis 6, that is the Axis for Fucking Nuts, and it's generally considered highly unethical (that's a big word that means Dr. Phil) to code people as such.

A woman must exhibit at least 10 of the following, and could write at least 5 more to add from the top of her head to be diagnosed with MOM Syndrome:

  1. Bat Shit Crazy
  2. Chronic Sleep Deprivation
  3. Insomnia (a result of chronic sleep deprivation)
  4. Migraines
  5. Hallucinations (such as hearing babies cry when no baby is crying)
  6. Disassociated Delusions (such as hearing someone else's baby cry and swearing it's your baby)
  7. Short Term Memory Loss (do you even know where your car keys are)
  8. Zombieness (like when that moment hits you that you apparently drove your kid to school because you are in the parking lot and your kid is in the back seat and you are not sure how you just got there)
  9. Absent Minded Professor Syndrome (such as putting the cereal in the fridge and milk in the cabinet, or putting ice in a bottle, or handing the bottle of milk to the husband)
  10. Frequent Tardiness and Absences (like forgetting doctor's appointments or constantly being late to them)
  11. Poor hygiene (3 days without a shower and 2 without brushing teeth)
  12. Gray hair (before hair dye, and sometimes regardless of it)
  13. Increase or decrease in appetite (like forgetting to eat, or eating the entire pie by accident without ever using a plate)
  14. Decreased social activity (a result of minors not being permitted in certain social settings)
  15. Extreme weight loss or weight gain
  16. Bad Driving (like swerving and braking due to "reach around slap a brat" or being struck in the head by a flying ice cream cone)
  17. Frequent sudden loss of urine (like pee a little every cough, sneeze or huge laugh, and sometimes total urination due to not being allowed, or able, to go use the bathroom)
  18. Using the bathroom in front of a live studio audience (while generally considered very strange, it's actually normal for people suffering from MOM)
  19. Deep unexplainable unconditional love for the children, including would do anything for them (would appear to be like Stockholm Syndrome, or the result of being under the influence of a cult-like sociopath, but for some wild crazy reason, it's not).
  20. Fantasizes about sleep, food, and sitting down.
  21. Knows Dora, Foofa, Caillou, Kipper, Max, Ruby, and many other fictional characters and will sometimes talk about them like grandmas do about soap operas.
  22. Despises Disney DVD's for the amount of Previews.
  23. Irrational hatred for legos, moon sand, and any toy that makes a noise
  24. Has a bottle of spoiled milk or an old sippy cup of juice under her bed
  25. Makes outrageous claims to her children that the boogeyman will get them if they don't stop....
  26. Tourettes Syndrome (occasionally stuttering, sometimes randomly blurting out words like boogers, poop, spank, time out, and fuck).
  27. Internet addiction, such as Facebook, as if that's their only means to talk to people
  28. Obsession with reading mommy blogs, occasionally attempting to read shitty articles about parenting to later turn back to mommy blogs.
  29. Irrationally valid feelings of being caged or under-appreciated
  30. Coffee addiction
  31. Randomly breaks out into song and dance
  32. Sleep cooking and cleaning (like sleep walking, but much more productive, and slightly more dangerous)
  33. Hoards chocolate in secret places
Treatment:

To prevent catching the MOM, use a condom and other birth control methods before engaging in the awesome of sex and orgies. There is no known treatment for mom, but rest and relaxation helps, if available. Insurance doesn't cover rest and relaxation because the rising rates of day care would bankrupt them if they did. Many medications exist to help treat symptoms, such as coffee, a shower, and copious amounts of booze. 

Also check out How to Treat Mom Syndrome


3. DAD Syndrome

Also known as "Sympathy Pains," DAD Syndrome's essential characteristics are delusions of grandeur and the desire to be the victim. Affecting only men, people who experience DAD Syndrome are whiny with a false sense of entitlement. Usually, this comes from womb envy. Men get jealous of the women who carried a baby, gave birth, and breastfed, not only for the woman's ability to do such a thing, but for the attention the woman expects for enduring such a thing. They see these women as heroes and wish they, themselves, could be that awesome. Instead of trying to be awesome, they just complain about the things their women experience as if they themselves experienced it. They often also qualify for a diagnosis with narcissistic personality disorder and can suffer from a mental retardation. Note: Unlike MOM Syndrome, just because a man has children does not mean he will have DAD Syndrome, and sometimes, a man doesn't have to have any children to have DAD Syndrome.

Must experience 2 or more of the following:
  1. Delusions of Grandeur (like when they do the dishes once and act like they cleaned the whole house daily for the last 6 years).
  2. Helplessness (can't find his other shoe)
  3. Constant complaining of back pain, indigestion, knee pain, etc., usually whatever their woman is actually experiencing
  4. Sleeps too much
  5. Doesn't do any housework (because they are so overloaded with responsibilities such as a job and video gaming... someone's got to save the world).
  6. Stressed without any actual stressors (like stress about paying the bills their wife pays)
  7. Gives himself zero accountability to negative things (such as the house is a mess and the kids miss a lot of school, like none of that was ever his responsibility)
  8. Gives himself full credit to positive things (such as the house is clean and the kids have good grades, as if he did it all by himself)
  9. Attention Whorism
  10. Constant whining of how he needs a break
  11. Believes his wife makes up all of her problems (i.e. sleep deprivation is a myth and she probably sleeps every time he does)
  12. Very self-centered
  13. Dissociative Empathy (meaning he sees his wife struggles and pretends she isn't struggling at all but he is struggling even though she is the one doing all the work)
  14. Overdramatic response to pain, such as stubbing his toe and dropping on the floor screaming in agony rolling around as if he were just shot in the balls with a 50 cal rifle.
  15. Constantly reassures everyone that he just worked 8 hours
  16. Considers guns, video games, tools and anything he likes or wants to be a household need
  17. Considers vacuums, dusters, dish detergent, paper towels, etc. to be selfish purchases by or gifts for his wife.
  18. When faced with something like dinner time, hunger, and hungry children, solves problem by going to wife and asking, "What's for dinner?"
  19. Wishes his wife were a lot of things, but doesn't want to contribute so that she can be those things (such as wishes his wife would stop being a bitch but doesn't want to stop being the reason she is a bitch).

Treatment

A nice big cup of man the fuck up.



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Monday, February 11, 2013

Blog of Myself

If you didn't get it, the title... Walt Whitman wrote a super huge long epic poem-book called Song of Myself. I thought it was punny.

52
The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me, he complains of my gab and my loitering.


I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.


The last scud of day holds back for me,
It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadow’d wilds,
It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.


I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun,
I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.


I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.


You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.


Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,

I stop somewhere waiting for you.


So the title does describe the blog post somewhat. I've been tagged. I hate losing at the game of tag, so I have to do this for my competitive ego. Anyway, remember that Get to Know Me craptola on Facebook? I think MySpace had them too if you are that old. Anyway, it's a blog version. No where near as profound as Whitman's poem, but I threw it in there to add profound to this.

Anyway, the blog who tagged me, The Zookeeper's Wife, is a blog you should definitely check out and see if you want to add her to your internet version of television favorite shows to watch. I think animal lovers will like her blog for some strange, not so obvious, reason.

Question 1: Where were you born?

Um yeah I say that, and boom, you guys have the answer to a potential internet account security question. If you are going to steal my internets, you will have to earn it and figure it out from this. I am from West "By God" Virginia. This is a state constantly stuck in the awkward years. We are NOT part of Virginia. We used to be, and then we were like Fuck You, we are not confederates, so now we will just make this part our own state and join the union. But then, we are still considered part of the south. Like what the fuck does it take to be in with the in-crowd? I should teach history. Why do I hear Wayne and Garth screaming, "NOT?"

The important thing about my birth was that I was born a Steeler's fan. I was born close to Pittsburgh PA, and my dad was a die hard Steeler's fan. I say WAS not because he's a traitor to the Steel Curtain, but because he died in 1999. Anyway, this was back in the 70's before they had televisions everywhere in the hospital. I was born during a Steeler's game. My father and the doctor, both being huge fans, kept leaving my mom alone in labor to go watch the game. My mom said, "You could hear my dad in the waiting room screaming, "GO GO GO" and then in her room screaming the same shit when he could see my head. Later that season, Terry Bradshaw led the Steelers to one of the many Superbowl rings they have. So Go Steelers!!!

Question 2: Were you named after someone?

I was named after the song "Michelle" by the Beatles, and my dad used to sing it out of key for me all the time.

Question 3: If you have children, how many do you have?

Three girls. Ages 2, 5 and 6.

Question 4: How many pets do you have?

2.  Fishy. He's a sociopath. You can't go near him without him talking you into feeding him. He also either really really loves or really really despises Aerosmith. I can't tell if he's dancing or fighting, but he will Shake his Tail Fin. Then there's the husband. I feed him and pet him. He's housebroken at least.

Question 5: What was your worst injury?

Not sure which one is worst. Sprained my ankle while pregnant with my oldest trying to answer my cell phone. Sister in law spontaneously punched me in the face, nothing but a black eye and sinus issues for a few weeks (she hits like a girl thank goodness). But none of those scarred. A good injury scars. That would be down to two biggest scars... one on my elbow from wrecking a bicycle as a kid trying to do something cool, and the other I blame ghosts. I woke up with blood all over my knee. There's still a scar.

And since all this, I sprained my ankle running to a crying kid tripping over a pebble and diving into a deep mud puddle. I think I did more than sprain because 6 months later, I still can't wear heels.

Question 6: Do you have a special talent?

Not really. I'm just a mom who fucking blows myself away at the level of talent it takes to get through a day and not be suicidal. I can also lick my own elbows. Not that much fun to do while sober. I also kicked my own ass once (KICKED, not licked, that was the elbows) with my mop, and I wasn't even mopping at the time. Now that's talent. Also, see the last answer about the Pebble.

Question 7: What's your favorite thing to bake?

I hate baking. I used to love it, but then I had children. I bake a lot of those Totino's Party Pizzas and casseroles. Apparently, I also bake in my sleep. There have been several occasions where I wake up discover that I baked cookies or stuck the next evening's dinner in the slow cooker. I just hope I wash my hands after dealing with raw meat.

Question 8: What's your favorite fast food?

Chipotle and Culvers when I lived near one. Since I don't have any of those in my area, Tim Hortons is my favorite here, but I do a lot of McDonalds and Burger King mainly because McDonalds is closer and their iced coffee beats BK's, and BK because I know the owners and their play area is clean.

Question 9: Would you bungee jump?

Probably not. I'd love to, like I really want to, but I would probably never actually jump when faced with it, not unless the flying monkeys push me over the edge.

Question 10: What's the first thing you notice about people?

Extremes... I do notice the most when people do something kind, or something rude. If you are an a-hole, that's probably going to be the first thing I notice before I could tell you what you are wearing or your hair color. If you have really nice hair, I'll notice that. If you have some awesome cleavage, I may not notice your hair. If your outfit clashes horrifically, I'll probably notice that. I don't care, but I'll notice it. And definitely, if there's something off, I'll notice that early on, like if you are a cop in uniform who is drinking a beer, or a kid who has the "I just stole a candy bar" look on his face as he is running off from the gas station.

Question 11: When was the last time you cried?

Tough question. Define cry. If you mean the last time I had actual tears flow down my cheeks, I don't know. Probably Rambo II. If you mean where I'm crying inside like it feels like I'm crying but no tears, hmm, last night my kids had me bawling like a baby on the inside, from the insanity of not listening and destroying the house, fighting.... Last heart felt story that made my eyes water, Mary Tyler Mom's blog.

Question 12: Any current worries?

I'm editing to change this answer. My current worry is usually running out of Diet Coke, vodka, or energy drinks while the hubs is at work. Everything else can kiss my cheeky 100% Grade A Beef because I'm not trying to age over stress. I have a pocket full of eff words, and you ain't gettin one.

Question 13: Name 3 drinks you drink regularly.

Diet Coke is my big one. I am always with one. 90% of my fast food drive thru moments are for a diet coke. You ever heard of the woman who died from drinking 3 gallons of it daily for years? Yeah, that might be me any time now. Try not to mock me when my death hits national news. It's illegal to libel a dead person.

Energy drinks... Great Value Dragon Fruit. If I don't have these, I do the 5 hour energy shots, or some generic equivalent. I also generally drink coffee, and I'm a cream snob. The only thing I can cream a coffee with is Heavy Whipping Cream. I like the Iced Mocha coffees, but not the Frappes. Gotta keep up with the kids somehow.

Booze. I don't get to do this as regular as I'd like, but it's a goal. I like my vodka distilled from grapes (Ciroc) or potatoes, and straight, warm, no chaser. I also really seem to be digging this Zombie rum drink (it's blue). It's a good fruity beverage.

Question 14: What is your favorite book?

Book that changed my attitude about life? Probably the Tao of Pooh by Benjamin Hoff. Favorite book for entertainment? I Just Want to Pee Alone, Moms Who Drink and Swear, Let's Pretend this Never Happened (by the Bloggess) and Jenny's Musings of a 20 something mom (Holdin Holden), though I usually do enjoy reading about numbers (special interest) like the Biography of Zero, but mom bloggers make me laugh. Favorite book to study? The Bible. I don't read it like most Christians. I like studying the history, the culture of the time, the people, the stories, and their influence on the world. Women in the Bibles for Dummies is one of my favorite books.

Question 15:  Would you like to be a pirate?

Yes and no. I get sea sick and I'm really accustomed to a pampered life, so if I'm a pirate, I will have to steal a Carnival Cruise Ship. This is not a bad ambition. I just have to design my flag and save up a bunch of money since I don't want to get blown up by the military (hard to hide a carnival cruise ship). Plus I'm going to need lots of gas and supplies like rum. So, I'm probably going to need a very very big piggy bank.

Question 16: What are your favorite smells?

Aqua Velva. It's what my dad wore when he was alive. I also like, and wear, Victoria Secret's Love Spell. For the house, I do a lot of vanilla related scents, but I prefer Cinnamon.

Question 17: Why do you blog?

I used to do a lot of ghostwriting for money, usually about things like money, taxes, business, fashion... I was getting burned out with it. I kind of wanted a place to write about whatever I wanted to write about without any writer's guidelines I have to follow or deadlines. A place where I can misplace a comma and say the fuck word. Also, I've been meaning to write more about autism. Being on the spectrum, but also learning about normal people, I'm kind of a hybrid. Maybe I can contribute to society with this (as a means to make up for all the jail time I probably should have had).

Question 18: What song do you want played at your funeral?

TAPS, Bette Midler's Wind Beneath my Wings, Ave Maria, Twila Paris The Warrior is a Child, My mom's song Love Shines Through (the most important one), and MC Hammer's Can't Touch This. Okay, add Queen's Another One Bites the Dust.

This is a video of my mom's song. Listen to the lyrics... Yes, that's her singing and playing the keyboard. Yeah, my sister and I taught her how to multi-task, like a boss. You can see why this song is to be played at my funeral, no exceptions, no excuses. I may be dead, but my love carries on.



Question 19: What is your least favorite thing about yourself?

I talk too much, and I'm lazy, and I lack discipline and follow through. Was that me talkin? Or my father?

Question 20: What is your favorite hobby?

Now, blogging. I used to play the piano, paint pictures, sketch, write poetry... but then I had children.

Question 21: What do you look for in a friend?

Don't be fake. Keep it real. Be you. And make some time for me. I struggle here with the kids. My schedule sucks. I'm a shitty inflexible friend at this point, so I need some patience, understanding, and someone who will come visit me without expecting me to drag my kids to their place. Oh, and because I have children, no illegal narcotics, sex offenders, nor anything that will put my children in danger.

Question 22: Name something you've done that you never thought you'd do.

Join the military.. and even crazier, have kids. I forever was the woman who wasn't going to have kids. I was supposed to have cats. I was supposed to be the crazy cat lady who hadn't gotten laid in years living in a house all the neighborhood children dared each other to approach on Halloween. Somehow, I ended up with a husband, kids and a fish. 

Question 23: What are your favorite things to do?

Get away. Travel. Don't get to do that much. And Sleep. Don't get to do that much either. Vodka. Pathetic, I know. 

Question 24: Any pet peeves?

Do not build a pyramid of trash on the top of the trash can and walk away. Seriously, take the bag outside, tie it, and reline the can. It's not that hard unless you are trying to throw away a dirty poopy diaper while doing this like I do.

Question 25: What was the last thing that made you laugh?

Insane in the mombrain's post about rocket science.


TAG YOU'RE IT

Insane in the Mom-Brain
Mary Tyler Mom
Holdin Holden
Counting Caballeros
Bitches in the Burbs
Hot Mess Mom
Honey Badger Press
Kelley's Break Room
Two Too Smart Smartass Mommies
PaRANThood

Rules:

Answer the questions in a blog, and then tag ten bloggers.

To make things easy on you ladies I tagged, so you are more apt to do this because well, I kind of want to read it, but here's the questions so you can just copy and paste without answers. Note: None of you guys on my list need to tell me when you do this because I follow you all, so I'll know LOL.

PS I know typing out the word Question seems redundant, but for whatever reason, my brain did it that way.

Question 1: Where were you born?

Question 2: Were you named after someone?

Question 3: If you have children, how many do you have?

Question 4: How many pets do you have?

Question 5: What was your worst injury?

Question 6: Do you have a special talent?

Question 7: What's your favorite thing to bake?

Question 8: What's your favorite fast food?

Question 9: Would you bungee jump?

Question 10: What's the first thing you notice about people?

Question 11: When was the last time you cried?

Question 12: Any current worries?

Question 13: Name 3 drinks you drink regularly.

Question 14: What is your favorite book?

Question 15:  Would you like to be a pirate?

Question 16: What are your favorite smells?

Question 17: Why do you blog?

Question 18: What song do you want played at your funeral?

Question 19: What is your least favorite thing about yourself?

Question 20: What is your favorite hobby?

Question 21: What do you look for in a friend?

Question 22: Name something you've done that you never thought you'd do.

Question 23: What are your favorite things to do?

Question 24: Any pet peeves?

Question 25: What was the last thing that made you laugh?

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Saturday, February 9, 2013

No, Not Autism, Anything But That!

Yesterday, my friend's child has been officially diagnosed Aspergers. So I thought I'd blog about what I'd tell a random stranger about it right after the diagnosis, and some things I'd like to tell my friend that's just WAY too long for a Facebook comment. Asperger's Syndrome. It's actually a highly contagious disease of the ass that you catch from eating too many hamburgers. I'm kidding. haha. Feels that way though, doesn't it? Like shit, of all things my kid could have... Calm down, it's okay. Of all the things your kid could have, like cancer, autism spectrum isn't too bad. If God told me I had to pick a diagnosis to have, any diagnosis, from clinical depression to ADHD, I'd prefer autism spectrum. It's gotten more negative hype than it deserves, and it's often very misunderstood. Sometimes I'm not sure to classify it more as a personality, SOMETIMES. The best part is, it is not a death sentence. Autism is NOT going to kill you or your child. It's probably just going to drive you crazy, but that's your child's job anyway. Now stock up on some hair dye because you are probably going to need it, with all the gray hairs you are about to form.



First, to get it out of the way, things you definitely need to know... Rainman, his character was based on a schizophrenic person who was misdiagnosed with autism at the time the movie was made. Rainman is nothing like autism. Also, autistic kids are usually not violent, despite the destruction of a meltdown. If you see an autistic kid who is violent, there's something else going on with that kid as well.

Before you totally dive into a pool of self pity over the diagnosis, okay maybe you can take a day or two and bask in the pool of self pity with a cocktail, preferably a warm location in your mind, but at some point, for your best interest, you're going to have to snap out of it. Until then, don't let people's ignorance remind you that this is happening to your kid and not you because this hits you harder than anyone in the equation. From my personal experience, it's a thousand times easier to have Asperger's than to raise a kid who has Asperger's. You totally have every right to that pool of self pity for a long minute, on a regular basis.

The diagnosis... Kudos. Bonus points. This is good news and I'll tell you why. Your kid had autism probably since the moment you plopped him out of your vagina. Doing nothing, ignoring it... you are asking for a very shitty time. Lots of drama. The diagnosis is a small step for mankind, but a giant leap in moving forward for you and your family.

Of all the treatment options for autism, it's general knowledge in the autism community, meaning if someone doesn't know this and is a doctor, you probably want to find a new doctor for this, early intervention is the best. The sooner you get a diagnosis and start working with it, the better off you  and your child are.

But now what? What the hell are you supposed to do now? Everyone talks about how early intervention is key. What they don't talk about is what early intervention is. That's because nobody knows. They only know that dealing with it, the earlier the better. Because nobody knows, there's a lot of trial and error involved, so the sooner you start that process, the better.

Reading this blog is the next step. Actually, reading everything you can on the subject is the next step. This is the diagnosis you almost have to Google, no matter how much your doctor hates it when his patients Google their health. The best resources I have found on the subject are mom bloggers of a child on the spectrum and adults with autism. You are in luck with this blog because I'm both. This is a path that is not paved, but many of us out here have cleared some of the debris for you already.

My next suggestion for you is find an autistic community. Locally, there should be something where many people with autism and kids on the spectrum meet, if anything to raise funds for autism. If you are in a small town, it still may exist and is just something, remarkably, not many know about yet (as you would think in a small town, everyone knows everything about everyone). Many of the government programs regarding autism and the shrinks probably have some information on it. Second, online. There's a bunch of forums, as well as Facebook groups, on the subject. There are Facebook pages. I suggest this not only for the information you can get, but also a support system who can empathize... so you know you aren't alone. There's peace in knowing you are not alone on this. Sometimes you will need to vent, and you need a shoulder (even if it's a cyber virtual one) to lean on and cry. All kids drive their parents crazy, but with autism, EVERYTHING is heightened, even the crazy your kids drive you to.

After you get to know autism, remember your kid is not those things. Your kid is still your kid. He/She is still an individual. Not everything about autism will pertain to your child. With that in mind, you are going to have to make an honest effort to assess your child, and by honest, I mean don't exaggerate. Don't see things that aren't there. Don't ignore things that are there. The best bet, this part, completely detach your emotions for a minute. Get out whatever you need to vent out before doing this and then set the emotions to the side. Assess your child's behaviors. Write a list. What are things WE (you and your child) need to work on? Really choose your battles wisely. Let your child have his autism when you can. But DO work on things that are interfering with the day, or will some day interfere with the day or your child's success.

It's the most beautiful thing I've ever scrubbed off my wall!

A lot of things are a gray area too. My kid was obsessed with drawing on the walls. Still is. I allowed it at first, like walls are walls. They already have paint on them. I already drew them white. Like what is some crayon and marker going to do? She obviously finds this to be a nice outlet. Well, then my walls looked horrid. I spent lots of time scrubbing them (tones muscle at least). They still look awful. I can live with it, but I didn't really account for people being dumb. I've had a woman tell me she's amazed I don't get roaches and rats because of the walls. Yes, crayon obviously attracts roaches. A lot of people were that way, no matter how clean my house was, they found it disgusting because of the walls. So now, we don't draw on the walls. She still does anyway because she's on the spectrum and she's Scorpio and my daughter who takes after me, and she does what she wants to do regardless of the world being against her, and some day I will find this level of determination a very great quality about her, but until that day comes, I just yell at her, "Stop drawing on the walls, You know you aren't allowed to," then I scrub it, and sometimes I take a picture before scrubbing it off because she really is talented. It helps to recruit other adults to tell her as well because half the battle is winning over credibility. We have improved on this one issue. See how this shit manifests itself?

You should do this often. It's almost like a meeting with yourself. You create objectives, you create a plan, you implement the plan, and you come back and monitor results. If you do this on a regular basis and are halfway decent with it, you will definitely be MANAGING your child's autism. That's the goal. There is no "cure." There is no magic pill. There is no magic therapy. YOU will have to do most of the work. MANAGING is key. This is the easy way.

Remember, your goal is to help give your child the upbringing he needs to survive on his own while maintaining as much peace in your house as possible and to function as a family unit. This is something everyone should be doing with their children. Nothing changes except the intensity and need for it.

Now I know it's easy to think, "Well he has autism, what meds are available?" Don't. You don't give meds for autism. You give meds on things like, "Well his anxiety is out of hand, and we've tried this and that and this and that, and it's getting worse, let's give him something to curve that anxiety..." Meds are a last resort to deal with a specific issue. On the hyperactive issue, some with autism are under active and some are over active. Usually, in most cases of autism, meds used to treat ADHD will make them even more hyper, unless they have ADHD. Some meds available are not extreme brain meds, for instance, many on the spectrum have sleep issues, and many have, like my child, done very well using Melatonin to help with that. Of course, you discuss meds with the doctor, and my suggestion is to discuss them with more than one healthcare professional. The prescribing shrink, the pediatrician, the pharmacist, and non-prescribing psychological authorities are all great people to discuss pharmacotherapy options with. Do not start medicine you don't know much about. Google that shit before administering it.

Real Talk Part: Now is the time to remove negative influences... None of this may pertain to you at all. I hope it doesn't. But if it does...

Because you are going to be the biggest influence on your child, start with yourself. You may not feel this way this early on, but if you start to... I've seen it before in several situations... Remember there is no magic pill. Most people who have tried that route first in hopes to solve their problem or lighten their load usually end up making the situation more difficult on them, some to a point where they send their child elsewhere. You can't ignore this. You can't pawn it off on the shrinks or a pill. If you really don't want to deal with it, you are better off finding a family member who will and letting them take charge for a while. I'm not sure of the thought process to lead them there, but I can assume it can happen to the best of us. Some people make autism harder on the kid than themselves and it shows. Don't expect your kid to fix his own problems. Many do once they are adults, but a kid? If you can't figure it out, what makes you think he will? This task was appointed to you, Frodo of the Shire. If you do not find a way, no one will.

Also, remove any abusive factor to your situation, physical and emotional. Abuse is hard on any child, but remember, autism heightens everything. If you are with an abusive man, get rid of him. If you might be abusive, get help. If you have any psychological issue that you can see leading you a state of being emotionally or physically abusive, get help now. If your child has already been abused, let the shrinks know within reason. Put your ego on hold and inform the team helping you with your child. You don't have to tell all. You can keep it down to telling them what they need to know, but tell them what they need to know. Everything with autism is heightened. Hurt is heightened. But also so is the response to that pain. When cornered, when snap time comes, that fight response is also heightened. This is the situation where people can get hurt.

Keeping the spirit in mind, the concept that everything with autism is heightened, look around your child's life. Who is in that life? What negative influences can you identify becoming problematic, or is already problematic? What is the ideal paradigm of an environment for your child? Are you there? You got to remove the rotten apples from your barrel before it starts to stink. The longer you keep it there, the stinkier and gooier it is to remove them, and the more apples that get ruined as a result. Of course this is something we all should do anyway, but nothing like autism to put a fire under our ass to do it.


Remember, your child is still your child. The person qualities does not change. He is still a child. He will still do kid things. He will still want hugs. He will still want love. And if there is any "cure" to autism, it is LOVE.  

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