Bullying: Advice Please

I've been thinking a lot about the subject of bullying, overanalyzing it. My nephew is being homeschooled now as a result of years of bullying, among some other variables. It makes you hate kids and want to bully them into not being such assholes to each other. It makes you want to be an asshole. I've overanalyzed this subject to a point where I'm not sure what to think anymore, and I've definitely strayed outside the box again.



I do know I don't like knowing KIDS experience the pain of being bullied. But do I?

I know it sucks to be bullied.

I don't know anyone who hasn't been bullied.

Studies say lots of things about bullying, you know, the "empirical evidence that suggests," that people often misuse, misquote, and misunderstand... What I gather from the studies I've seen:

• Bullying is changing. We now have both physical and emotional bullying, and a lot of it is happening online. 
• There's been an increase in domestic violence that MIGHT influence the trends in bullying
• Adults bully. Men more than women, generally same gender on gender. 
• Teachers bully students, like it's not just students bullying students. This is true from grade school to college.

Moms who drink and swear once shared an article about bullying, and one thing that stood out to me in the article, and it's spot on, bullies today are NOTHING like bullies of the past. There is no kicking their ass and moving on. It was more black and white when I was a kid, and even more black and white when my mom was a kid.

But today, it's different. There's cyberbullying. It's a lot like girl bullying, which is much more passive aggressive, emotional, and powerful than the physical I'll beat you up for your lunch money type of bullying.

But bullying is so ingrained in society, I think we do it without knowing it all the time. I don't think we can exist without it.

In a sense, for example, parenting is a form of bullying. I'll give you a spanking if you don't listen to me... That sounds a lot like, "If you don't give me your lunch money, I'm going to punch you in the face." I'll put you in time out if you do that again sounds a lot like, "I won't talk to you anymore because you wore pink on Thursday when I wanted to wear pink." But we go way worse with parenting. Have you ever grabbed your kid and forced your child into doing what you wanted him to do, like leave? I have picked my kids up kicking and screaming to leave a building to deal with their behavior. I do it just like a bully. It's not only ok for me to do this, it is very much expected by society. It's not considered bullying because why? I have my kid's better interest in mind? Or because I have to control my kids? Because it's not to boost my ego by appearing like I control my kids to those watching?

But they are two different things. A spanking is not a punch to the face. Right? I mean you HAVE to punch someone in the face to be a bully.

Definition of Bully: To use superior strength or influence to intimidate (someone), typically to force him or her to do what one wants.

I think we are all bullies. I think we all have it in us to be an asshole, to belittle someone, to use our force to get what we want, and to accidentally step on someone while we are walking. Bullies are everywhere and will be everywhere for the rest of your life. Humans are not infallible. We all fuck up. We are all slightly narcissistic. We are all slightly inconsiderate and sadistic. The good vs. evil epic tale you are looking for is not between a bully and a victim. It is within both the bully and the victim. It is within all of us.

But how do you talk to a kid about bullying? How do you teach your kids not to bully when you know they must at some point in our society? How do you teach your kids not to be the victim when you know they must at some point in our society? I guess what our kids need is wisdom. The wisdom to know when to stand up and when to sit down, and the ability to do both.

I think it's important we all understand, not just our kids but us grown ups too...

• Some people are assholes, but most of the time, good people have asshole moments.
• When people criticize you like they mean it, they are merely projecting their own insecurities.
• People who hate their life will take it out on others around them. That doesn't mean that everyone who insults you hates their life, but just know they exist, and they already hurt.
• When you are being criticized, you hear your own insecurities and doubts, no matter what they say.
• Instead of focusing on what people think of you, focus on what you think of yourself and self improvement. 
• When you are the bully, have a good reason for it, and show restraint and mercy. 
• Don't use people.
• Don't lie to people. 

The basic right from wrong will go the longest way of all things. You will still bully and be bullied at some point, but the basic conscience is what keeps it in check so it doesn't go overboard. It also keeps the skin thick enough to take a blow here and there. I assure you, when you are in a place where you are surrounded by people poking you, mocking you, manipulating you... The best line of defense is the conscience because it tells you they are wrong. It reminds you who is behaving badly. If you really listen to that inner voice telling you the others are full of shit, you won't play their games. The best way to not lose is to not play. 

I find it unproductive that we tend to tackle this subject through some kind of awareness. It cures bullying much like cancer awareness cures cancer. It doesn't. So I sit back and think, how do I help someone like my nephew? There is no hotline for it. There is no law that will protect him. There is no teacher who will protect him. I can't sit with him all day to stand up for him. Being the example is a big deal, but it doesn't help him NOW. It helps him later. 

I'm still lost as to helping him get help now. His shit level has definitely been reached. He can't talk about it anymore let alone face it again. Will he ever be ready to go back to school? Will he ever be ready to work with his own peers again? I do think he needs a break from them to rebuild himself, but how do I help him rebuild his strength? How do I know when this is just an excuse to stay home from school? How do I get him to see when he is being the bully or perceived as such? 

I'm going to have to end this post with questions I can't answer. Maybe your comments will help so if you have an opinion, fire away. 

Note: The nephew is on the autism spectrum. He mainly deals with girls being bullies, mostly mind games, the occasional being called the R-word, and the occasional physical bully. One girl used to kick him in the balls every day, and one day she went to smack him in the face and he blocked the smack, so she went and told everyone he hit her, that his block was him striking her, and of course, they believed her. He has switched grade schools 3 or 4 times, and middle schools 5 times before going home school. He just kept escaping one set of bullies right into the arms of another set. All of these kids will be in his high school in his district.

STATISTICAL STUFF

The Village Idiots

It takes a village to raise a child, so they say. I still have yet to see this "Village." If any of you know where the fuck it is, let me know. I bet it's in El Dorado. I definitely have very little help with the kids. While I can't seem to find this village, I know it has to exist because I always seem to run across a village idiot. That guy or girl who has to tell you how to raise your kid, with fucked up advice, in a judgy, you suck, you shouldn't breed sort of way. You know, Stranger Danger.

It happens to all the parents out there, especially the parents of a kid with special needs. Why? Bullies always target the special needs. They act all holier than thou but they are bullies who fuck with special needs people. They deserve your spit for that shit. Yes I'm telling you to spit in someone's face.

But really what it is, people are like wolves. They prey on the weak and injured. They prey on children and parents who are busy taking care of their children. If they can, they will prey in packs. But not all of us parents are weak. Some of us, you don't want none of it. Some of us are tigers and we strike back. We strike hard. We leave a mark.

Prime example. From the Grunts 11B Facebook page...

Ok. I prefer life when people actually mind their own gotdammed business. If it doesn't concern you in anyway conceivable then shut the fuck up and move out. I just returned from the dentist where my 4 yr old special needs son had some work done. My boy loves his daddy and on occasion likes to pop out and scream boo to scare me to get a laugh. As I'm sitting in the waiting room playing angry birds to pass the time while my wife is in the back with my boy, my son pops out and gives a grinning roar to scare me and starts laughing. All good fun right? Wrong. Some cunt slurping waffle has the audacity to open her dick socket and proceed to tell me to "control my fucking kid." Not wanting to upset my son by going with my first reaction, my wife and I take the kids to the car. I turn around and go back in to get an Appointment Card for the next visit (or so I said). I find this bitch ranting to the others how some folks shouldn't be parents. This of course is unfuckingsat. I proceed to give this twat the what for in a fashion so colorful that dentists walked out of their respective offices to see what was going on. The bitch just sat there like a coward not saying a word until I was finished with her chin still on the floor. After the debacle I turned to the receptionist and simply asked, "Can you send a reminder in the mail for his next appt?" As i was leaving the waiting room erupted into applause. The moral of the story is?
~Cowboy

I never am so fortunate enough to have someone with me to watch the kid(s) in the car so I can go back in. So I have to tone my response down a bunch of notches, though the one time I let it all out, my kid behaved perfectly for a whole week I scared her that much, and it was funny because I never seen a fat guy run so fast before in my life.

I don't think I've shared this story yet in fear that A, I might be judged. B, it would confirm all of your suspicions of my crazy. C, I might scare you. D. someone might report me to the police. Maybe I have shared it in an earlier post. I do remember typing it up at some point, but I don't know where or why. Anyway... This is definitely a story of what you should NOT do.

I was driving through a Burger King. I had my oldest kid with me, and she was I think 2 at the time. Because I knew we were just driving through without getting out of the car, I let her come with me in just a shirt and diaper, a last second decision made on my way out the door. She was not wearing pants or shoes. I rarely do this, but don't judge people who do because I'm definitely neither the first nor the last parent to do such a thing.

I get to the drive thru window, and they can't take debit card orders in the drive thru because their machine is down, but they can if you go inside. I argued with the person working there.

"Can't you just swipe my debit card in the machine you would use to swipe it if I were inside?"

No.

"I don't understand. You have access to a working debit card machine that you are choosing not to use?"

We just can't take your debit card through the drive thru.

"But you can inside?"

Yes.

"Then why can't YOU use the machine I'd use inside? I have a toddler with me. She's not wearing shoes. Trust me, it would be a thousand times easier if you walked to the debit card device and swipe it for me than to make me come inside and do it myself."

I'm sorry. You'll have to come inside.

So fuck all. I went inside. With my kid. Because she wasn't wearing shoes, I had to carry her. The entire time. Easier said than done.

I place my order. They hand me cups to get the drinks myself. I carry my kid over to the drink area, and the little metal rods you place your cup on to get your drink from the machine were so far apart, there was no placing the cup down and it staying there. It takes two hands to then get a drink because one needs to hold the cup, and the other push the button. I needed a third hand or a place to stick my kid. I had no place to stick the kid. The area for the tray in front of the soda fountain machine was disgusting. It was covered in 50 different shades of sugary sticky goop with condiments (like someone had fun with ketchup). So I propped my knee up to the edge of the tray area, let my kid straddle across my thigh like a horse, and I poured two sodas like a boss.

Mind you I'm double jointed... Well at one point during the whole thing, my knee started slipping, and my kid started slipping more toward the knee. I needed her back closer to my hip. So I for whatever reason, with whatever I was doing, like my hands were doing one thing and I had to act fast or the kid might fall, I did some sort of thing where you know how you have a kid on your hip sliding south and you nudge the kid up in a way where she kind of flies up, like you throw the kid back in place almost... Something like that, I stuck my foot up on the EDGE of the tray area to incline my leg so she'd go sliding back toward my hip, all for a split second like just the nudge I needed to get her back in place, and put my knee back. I'm not even sure my foot touched the edge. Like all I did was throw my knee upward really fast for a second wiggling my ass to scootch a kid back in place.

I finished getting the drinks. This guy walks up next to me and starts rambling on about something. I wasn't paying attention too much because I don't know. I WAS BUSY. Fuckturd. Anyway, I was just like, "uh huh. Yeah. Thank you." Walked away to the straw area. He followed me and kept talking, all calm. I was like, "Uh huh. Cool." And I walked back to the area where you wait for your food. He followed me. Kept talking.

Finally I started to pay attention, and he was pissed that my foot might of touched the edge of the tray holder thing for an entire second, that I was smearing my germs all over the place his food would touch. I was like really?

At first, because he was calm, I was calm. It went something like...

"Dude, I have a kid on my hip who I can't put down. I needed two hands to get those drinks. I'm amazed I did it with absolutely no help from you I should add. And it's not like that tray area isn't already disgusting number one or there'd be a poopy peed filled diaper ass on it for minutes as opposed to the sole of my shoe for a split second, if it even touched it. Second, your food is coming wrapped in paper and put on a plastic tray. If you are dumb enough to unwrap your food and smear it across that disgusting tray holder, you get whatever is coming to you in the realm of germs."

Then somehow it escalated where he was screaming, I was screaming, he told me I shouldn't have kids, I shouldn't breed, I'm a bad person, I'm the antichrist...

To top it off he looked like Michael Moore. An obese version of Michael Moore.

I did tell him he looked more gross than all the germs on the bottom of my shoe.

Anyway, as we were screaming at each other, me getting all ghetto overusing the fuck word, with my kid on my hip the entire time, the staff at Burger King just stood there with their mouths hanging open. Finally I looked at them and said, "I told you. I told you it would be a million times easier for you to swipe my damned debit card your damned motherfucking self than forcing me to come in this fucked up joint and dealing with assholes like this fuckhole over here. I hope you're fucking satisfied. I hope this made your job so much more motherfucking easy on you. You lazy asswipes."

So then I stormed out with 2 sodas, 2 bags, and my kid all in my arms, and I get to the car (well small SUV, Ford Escape). I put the bags on the hood of my car. I laid the sodas on the hood of my car and spilled them all over myself and my kid. I get the kid in the car seat. Michael Moore look alike comes out, sees me struggling with soda all over the place, and laughs. LAUGHS. So I launched both sodas at the Burger King, smacking what's left of the soda all over the window of the building. I get in the car. And fat ass is now in the parking lot. Walking. Laughing. So I popped the bitch in reverse, gassed it up good, aiming for him. I really was aiming for him. I never seen a fat man run so fast before in my life. Then I drove off, laughing. Pointing and laughing. He was breathing heavily and possibly might have had a heart attack, one I was totally prepared on blaming Burger King's food on.

So basically, I probably tried to hit Michael Moore with my car once. I've also been known to hit people with my grocery cart, drop cans of green beans on their feet, and things like that. I stopped with the aggression route just because I'm tired, I'm not as insulted anymore, and I definitely do not want assault charges placed upon me. I now scream random things. Like now, I'd tell Michael Moore in the soda section, really loud for the whole restaurant to hear me, "Please don't talk about your herpes in front of my child. They have a cream to help with the burning if it's bothering you that much."

Now that is definitely an old blog post... 

Playing the Autism Card

I've seen many versions of these on the internets. Some parents actually hand these out to people. For those who don't realize, a common theme in the lives of parents of children on the autism spectrum is to take our kids in public, I know, gasp, and receive a very inviting welcome from the strangers of the world. By inviting welcome, I mean a bunch of dirty looks, criticism on our parenting skills, criticism of our children, and basic asshattery.

You can read one of my previous posts about that: Dear Dr. Phil Wannabes of Walmart. 

I don't think people who intervene in that manner are ignorant of autism. I think they are mean people. They are just assholes. Think about it. Your kid is freaking out. You are almost in tears, kneeling down trying to tame your child while watching and handling the other kids. You obviously have things to do that is being interrupted with all this. Everyone is upset. Who the fuck approaches people in that kind of emotionally charged situation to insult people? That's not a dumbass. That's a total asshole. That's a bully. They targeted you because you are having a weak moment.

And when they intervene with their ridiculous opinions, they really make the situation harder on the parent and the kid. It's very common with autism or kids in general for kids to run off and/or do really stupid shit when they are upset or overly hyper. So when you distract the parent from the child in that kind of situation, it better be fucking important because you are risking that child's safety when you do. 

That type of threat deserves very little mercy. I used to just hit them with the grocery cart, or drop something on their foot, but since assault isn't something I really want on my permanent record, I now have resorted to shenanigans and debauchery.

I'd rather just scream at them really loudly something random for everyone to hear and be like "What the fuck did they just say to you?" Here's a list of some things I got for now, for the assholes... Use them wisely because you never know when karma is going to strike back, or how it will....

For those who don't know the experience... You are at Walmart. Your kid asks for something that's 50 bucks. You say no. They stomp. Beg. Argue. You hold your ground. You are ready to walk to the next aisle, and they refuse to go. So you start trying to drag them to the best of your ability since you have 2 other kids in the cart, and they flip the fuck out on you. Throwing a huge fit for that 50 dollar Made in China plastic toy. They are so pissed off by now that if you offered to give them the toy, which you would never do, they wouldn't take it. It's a big FUCK YOU and everyone who looks like you meltdown. You're not sure what to do because for you to handle the one kid, you'd have to abandon the other 2. So you spank your kid, "Cmon, we're leaving." And the kid wails louder and throws herself on the ground. So you are starting to concoct a plan of sticking that kid in the cart and making the other two walk. Meanwhile, some asshat who witnessed a portion of your event tells you it's child abuse to spank your kid, or "control your kids," or "I can't believe you just said that to your kid," or "just pick the kid up and leave," as if their fat ass could handle carrying a kicking and screaming kid pushing a cart with a fucked up wheel with 2 kids in it.... Some of them will go so far to call CPS on you, or Walmart will make you wait in the store for CPS to arrive because sitting in an office with 3 kids while one is still melting down is obviously a solution. So this is how I respond to the asshat.

NOTE: I do not really condone spanking an autistic kid mid meltdown. It was just an example. If you didn't spank, the asshat would tell you to spank your kid. It doesn't matter what you do. They will tell you to do the opposite of what you did or you suck. 

What? No I do NOT wish to buy a video of you fondling a goat!

I'm sorry, I don't know where they keep the hemorrhoid cream or the KY Jelly.

Tylenol will not cure your Clap. 

The Diet Pills I think are over there in aisle 14. You better hurry.

You know they have mouthwash here, as well as breath mints. You might want to add that to your list.

Excuse you? I happen to like what the person over there is wearing.

You cheated on your spouse with who?

Three Hundred Dollars for Sex?

Did you just call that guy a n-word? He just called you the n-word. Seriously. I just heard him say it. 

The people who work here are neither overpaid nor lazy, and they definitely do not deserve to go to hell. 

You want to do what with a cucumber? 

I don't have any dimes or bags!

And my favorite for while the kid is melting down...

What did you just say to my kid to make him cry like that?



~~THESE ARE MY STORIES AND I'M STICKING TO THEM~~

Post Mother's Day Anti-Depression

http://www.inkcinct.com.au/

I've read a lot of charming blogs about Mothers Day. I saw a lot of Facebook posts of moms getting breakfast in bed, bubbles baths to read their favorite book, beautiful pics of visiting a grandma or something... Here's my secret. I hate Mother's Day. It ranks up there with Valentine's Day. It's a limp dick. A holiday designed to give you orgasmic level expectations to leave you sitting frustrated and disappointed because there just isn't enough blood pumping in the right place at the right time leaving you with a useless sack of sperm to play with making you go "completely nuts." And you can't be pissed because you love the impotent person enough to not hurt their feelings. So when I see pictures of women enjoying a bubble bath (no nudity duh), I want to diabolically throw glitter all over them and their perfectly clean bathroom to truly make them sparkle. Nothing personal. Just jealousy.

My mother's day was not a good day for the most part. I don't think it was my negativity that did me in. I actually started off the day positive.

• I tried to write and didn't get to because I was servicing my kids (not feeding them, but things like getting them that thing that is 2 feet in front of them and breaking up fist fights) too frequent to focus or be creative. 
• Then Mother Nature gave me her Mother's Day present (the monthly uterine wrecking ball), and of course, I'm out of all my hygiene products... 
• Why do I sometimes call my oldest kid Hercules? Let me see your 6 year old daughter rip out a RECLINING sectional piece of the sofa to the middle of the floor and flip it, and tear out a piece of drywall for fun. 
• What goes better with eggs than a heaping cup of Baking Soda? Accidentally dumping baking soda on your frying dozen eggs while looking for the missing baking powder for pancakes, now that's the priceless shit Mastercard can't buy. So basically, everyone had sandwiches, everyone except me of course because not enough bread. 
• Then at the brink of passing out from hunger, I got a Big Mac (my mother's day breakfast lunch and dinner) on my way to my mom's house devouring it while driving and handing kids stuff, meaning I just drove like a drunken crazy person, while listening to the wonderful music of my children screaming, squealing (horror movie scream) and fighting. 
• Drama like Jerry Springer on TNT ensued at mom's house... over me not getting my nephew I was watching home fast enough because that would be my responsibility. And why was it so important? They were planning to take him to his dad's mom's house. Yes, if you are 10 minutes late for that, the apocalypse would definitely begin. Ironically, he was going to be on time, but everybody had to dig their own grave and blame me, why not? It's my fault because I chose to have my children. 
• Then I took all 3 kids to Dairy Queen by myself, and then devoured 2 slices of different cakes I couldn't taste thanks to the cold (like dieting suicide right there).

Mind you too, I endured that day with a migraine, the period, a swollen ankle that I supposedly sprained 2 months ago but obviously did a little more damage than that, and i can't prove it because the 3 trips to the doctor's office over it were all about how it's normal for an ankle to still be swollen. I was also tired since I accidentally took my kid's antihistamine aiming for my Tussin. And I have the snot monster cold, meaning my throat hurts, I'm coughing every 5 seconds like death, and I have green ooze coming out of my nose.

In addition, a few days ago, and I hate to admit this on a blog, but I will because I think some people can sadly empathize to an extent... I was damn near suicidal. The only thing to stop me was the fact that I didn't have a babysitter for it. Here's a list of my current goals to explain...

1. Divorce-- more expensive than getting married. Just like a wedding, requires a shit ton of planning. I do hope to be the most beautiful anti-bride on that big day. I think my colors are going to be Funeral Black and Mistress Red. If I could just get the date planned. The husband doesn't seem to care when it happens, like the sooner the better. I mean we are in anti-love, young anti-love. But, we just don't want to rush it since that would mean getting 2 big houses furnished for the kids...

2. Do my resume-- I know this sounds like an item on a to do list, but for me in my world, it's a long term goal. Why? Because I do everything with my children, so it takes about a thousand times longer to accomplish something. But I do kind of need an income if I plan on being a single mom. I'm a little old to actually get paid for hooking or any other "worst case scenario" solutions I had going for the last decade.

3. Write a book-- Face it. Nobody wants to hire a mom who has been out of work for so long. This is my back up plan. I was thinking of telling the story about my in laws and the possible Santeria curse, except I'm going to label the book fiction because I don't think anyone will believe me that it's a true story, plus i can deny being a part of it. This way, my inlaws can fund the divorce (usually the anti-bride's family pays for such events, usually because most of the gifts are for the anti-bride like 17 different blenders or is that weddings?).

4. Clean the house--- I keep saying this for years. I really do want to have a clean house. Some day I suppose I will get it. Until then, I'll just keep cleaning and cleaning and cleaning. In case you missed it, I have 3 children under the age of 7, and one is hyperactive high functioning autism. Did you read the part about the sofa?

5. Beat up the demon--- He might be a hallucination. He might be the Santeria Curse. He might be an actual demon who has been in this house disguising himself as a little boy for the last 3 years and is the cause of things like the constant mess and the divorce. Negativity spawns negativity. I did try burning sage. Made it worse. Holy water helps though, so that's what has me thinking it might not be a chronic sleep deprived hallucination. Either way, I beat it up once, but since it fucks with me every time I try to sleep, I really would like to kill the little bugger. He will be in the book if I ever get to write it.

6. Get a new car--- All 3 cars are in the shop. Two of them are totally done for. Nothing like a car payment before getting divorced.

7. Clean myself up from addiction--- I'm addicted to Motrin. Actually NSAIDS in general. I take at least 400 mg a day up to the 1600 mg limit. Why? If my ankle doesn't hurt from tripping over that pebble months ago running to a crying kid diving into a mud puddle (I might of did a flip without a high dive), then it's my knees. See, I'm double jointed, and now I'm old, and they don't make WD40 for people. Only tin men in Oz get that kind of medical care. But then, there's the children induced migraines. It's not just me. They give other people migraines too.

I am honestly getting to a point where I just don't want to do it anymore. I'm sick of cleaning a mess that gets dirty the instant I clean it. I'm sick of taking care of everyone else because I'm totally neglecting myself, and nobody will let me take care of myself. Not at all. Not just my children, but also the husband, my family, my friends... I'm being consumed by people. I don't know how to make it stop. It's like I'm in a black hole, and I struggle and struggle just to prolong the sucking into the abyss thinking I'm close to getting out but no where near it.

Then Mother's Day Miracle (if you use your imagination)... I'm talking to my mother on the phone after the day decided to shut the fuck up for us...

When my mother was in college and dating her first husband, he was working down the street from her mom's house. She borrowed his car for school. So they met up every day at my grandmother's house at noon for lunch. My grandmother, every day, made them a nice lunch. My mother said, at that time, she didn't realize how special that was for my grandmother to do for them. She didn't realize how much work it was.

But this story cleared up a misconception I had. My grandmother was an alcoholic. She died Christmas of 1998 from liver failure. I was under the impression that grandma started drinking at motherhood. I mean the woman had 7 kids, couldn't drive (no license), and was poor. Her part time jobs, she walked to them. I just assumed that sucked so bad she had to drink. But my mother informed me her alcoholism started after the kids grew up and moved out. She was so depressed when she had nobody to take care of that she really enjoyed those little things like making lunch for my mom and her boyfriend every day.

My mom swore to me that I may not see this now... When I was my kids' age, she couldn't wait for me to grow up too. But some day, I will feel that same pain my grandmother felt, and my mother felt. That pain of boredom. The pain of figuring shit out and getting into the groove of the chaos with the kids for it to totally fucking disappear and leave me bored.

Because I score high on the IQ test for the visioning things part, you know, taking a 2D object and making it 3D in my head... I can see that. I can almost feel that. I can imagine my house empty, void of the chaos my children bring, and that is truly depressing... That future just gave me clarity that I desperately needed.

My grandmother used to say, "Life is great, as long as we don't weaken." 

Now how's that for supermom? Who else can nurse her granddaughter through a very trying time in her life from the grave? My grandma. Badass. And through who? My momma, BadAss Junior. All so that BadAss the third can get her groove on.

For reference, my Mother's Day Facebook Statuses...

This one, the first one, I made the extra attempt at being perky and positive.

Happy Mother's Day to all the women out there, whether you have kids or not, because I think if you don't have kids, celebrating this day anyway is the only way you will get to celebrate this day with all the shit implied with this day. A day to yourself. To get a break. To relax. The only way you get to do that as mom is to celebrate this day BEFORE you become a mom. So Happy Mother's Day to all you people who have a uterus. To all you moms out there, if your things you married and your spawns let you have some time to yourself, you should totally thank them with some home cooked meal tomorrow or next week. So far, we'll be ordering pizza. And to everyone who is all "this is the day we appreciate moms for their hard work," Fuck You. You should do that every day you dirty bastard.

and then

Well today royally sucked. It sucked, swallowed, and then spat what was swallowed. This day was just a dirty whore.
I wrote it all out about the day. It's long. Like 2000 words long. I'm so tempted to post it somewhere public for all those involved.

Let me remind family members something. I blog. I blog about my life. While I currently blog anonymous, that is soon about to change. Maybe if I blogged these adventures I experience in Jerry Springer Wonderland, maybe people would actually start acting in a way that wouldn't embarrass themselves if they read about it on the internet. Seriously, if all of you are so righteous, then it shouldn't bother anyone for me to tell the world should it?

and then

AND in the future, I love children. I don't mind babysitting other people's children. BUT I am overwhelmed. Most of you this refers to can't possibly understand that with your simple easy lives full of people doing most of your work for you, but that doesn't change the fact that YOUR KID IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. If you want YOUR kid home to YOUR HOUSE at a certain time, then YOU need to get YOUR HAPPY ASS over here and pick up YOUR kid. If you want me to drive YOUR kid anywhere with my 3 kids to get them home for any reason, you are on MY SCHEDULE. That same situation is now in effect for my mother as well. You are not entitled to favors. AND you could be a little more appreciative of them as well.

Fuck Bad Words, and the R-word it rode in on

I guess people are blogging about the R-word, and I had this in my notes as a blog to do eventually, so I guess now is a good time. I haven't read other people's blogs about the R-word because it usually pisses me off on many different levels.

Speaking

Notice I call it the R-word? That's because things like the R-word, the N-word, and the homosexual slurs are disrespectful to a lot of people. I prefer not to use them out of respect. If I were to use those words, I wouldn't be using them to piss people off. I'd be using them to communicate or try to be funny, and since there are people who lose the point when one of those words are used, or they lose all humor if one of those words are used, it would totally be anti-productive for my purpose to use those words. The purpose of language is to communicate, and that purpose is lost when certain words are used. If I did want to offend people, I really prefer my point I'm making offend them than my vocabulary, though I do use the fuck word a lot because it's fun to do. That's a different fucking blog post.

Anyway, I do believe in bad words, but differently than most people. You know how there's a difference between truth and the norm (majority rules)? For example, the earth is round. That's a truth. For many years, the fact is the earth was flat because that was the common belief. It was wrong, but it was right because everyone all agreed. 

To me, words are words. They have no soul, so they can't be good or bad. It's not the words, it's how you use them. That's the fact truth part. Then there's the part where the majority has decided otherwise on a somewhat ignorant level, but at least they usually have good intentions. Anyway, the majority has decided fuck is a bad word. Words like that, fuck shit ass… those are not bad words to me. They are naughty words, like farts. It's bad etiquette to use them in certain places at certain times. But now, because of this majority thing, there are words that are bad words. They are only used to demean people, like there isn't a good way to use those words because of the history of their use locked them in. At least fuck can be used as a good thing. I can say, "Mother fucker" to insult someone, but I can say, "Motherfucking awesome" to compliment someone.

There is no way to compliment someone when you use the following words…
 

Any racial slurs

Any homosexual slurs

The R-word
Fat

Listening

But, that whole concept is a double edged sword. Now, I may offend some people and for that I'm not sorry. Part of communicating is speaking, and I just discussed that. The other half of communication is listening. So how do you handle when someone else uses the R-word? Or any bad word for that matter?

Me, I look at their intentions. The context. Why?

A lot of times, people's definitions of the word is different than what it is, or what you think it is. For example, the n-bomb. It's a racial slur. A very bad one. Probably the worst word ever invented in the history of man. Look it up in the dictionary and it means ignorant. So some people use it to mean ignorant, which that's irony for you. Some subcultures have decided that it means trashy people of any race. They call white people the n-bomb, and they will point to a black man and say he is NOT the n-bomb in the same sentence. There are some people who use it as a way to take back the power, mainly black people (and white posers). Do I think they should be using that word? No, not in this world with that word's history. On another planet where it has no history, maybe, depending on the definition you give it.

But am I going to ostracize and criticize them for it's use? Depends, the intention. I do believe in God, and it's about what's in our hearts. Gotta look at the spirit and soul. Nothing physical can define morality. People try to. They try to make it tangible, and they lose a lot of the point of it in the process… The only black and white is in our hearts, not in our words or actions like most people believe (again truth vs fact).

What pisses me off with the r-word specifically… A, if you call a special needs person an R-word as a way to belittle or demean them, I'm going to be really pissed and I will hurt you one way or the other, whether it's your physical self or psychological self depending on how far you are from my reach. B, now the complicated part.

I have autism. My child has autism. We are both high functioning, which I hate that term, but anyway, that's us. People have called me the R-word because I'm weird. But I'm not an idiot. I know most of the population who uses the R-word use it to mean really stupid, low IQ that can result even with no diagnosis, and it generally has nothing to do with special needs or autism. I do not get offended when someone says, "That woman was so r-worded because she forgot the mayo." That has nothing to do with me or my autism.

What pisses me off is when people hide behind people like me to be mean to a stranger. I'm talking those situations where you are talking about the price of tea in China and someone says, "Wow, your husband did what with the tea? That is so r-word." Then out of the blue, Susie McJudgerson is on there clutching pearls damning someone to hell because they called my husband the r-word and somehow, with that, insulted Susie's kid, every special needs child, and all these people who were never part of the conversation or a subject in the conversation. It's like saying, "Fuck the man who was insulted, fuck his wife who is special needs. This is about me and my kid." I guess it's okay to call someone with autism an asshole as your means to advocate autism. See, that is DEFINITELY stupid and illogical and selfish.

Some of them then take it to the next step. They play the pity card. I mean we are talking a good cause here, and anyone who disagrees is insensitive, heartless and against the cause.
  

Criticizing people for shit they didn't actually mean is bullying. What happens is the social herding instinct comes into play with low attention spans and poor reading comprehension skills, and some level of laziness. If you criticize someone for insulting kids with special needs, everyone assumes that person just insulted someone with special needs, and the wolf pack preys on someone who never said anything about special needs.

Here's an EXTREME example to show how it works…

Erica: So I was thinking, now that Duke is dead, I have all this left over dog food. The humane society might take it. They could always use some extra food.

Susie: That is so fucked up Erica. How dare you? Do you know what the Humane Society does to these animals? They kill them, and that's after they torture them by putting them in these cages all day long. Sometimes the animals are actually abused beyond the regular neglect. That's just fucked up you'd donate to them.

Erica: Actually, I know someone at the Humane Society who is really good with animals, and they really do try to find homes for the animals so they don't have to euthanize them.

Susie: I can't believe you. Enabling that is the same as abuse. You are a dog abuser. I can't believe you don't care how they kill all those puppies with sad puppy faces. What did those dogs ever do to you?

Mildred: Hi guys. I'm too lazy to read all the comments, but wow. Erica really? You can go to hell and suck Satan's dick. The world would be a better place without animal abusers like you. You deserve ass fucked with a pitchfork fuck you. You are such an idiot. I'm going to punch you in the face if I ever see you.

Erica: Mildred really? Because I want to donate to the humane society. I miss my dead dog. I want to do something good for them. And Susie? You are insane. I don't enable dog abuse. I love dogs.

Mildred: So you killed your own dog? You are so fucked up.

Beatrice: Who killed their dog?

Mildred: Erica did. She is pro dog death. She's trying to say she's a good person because she donates to the humane society. Like that makes it okay.

Susie: Wow, Erica you are a real piece of work. Calling me insane after everything you just said. Look again hun. You are the insane one.

Mildred: She's fucked up is what she is.

In addition, the r-word doesn't refer to your kid or to me unless someone is calling us that word directly. To associate us to the r-word as a way to defend us is calling us the r-word. I don't think anyone realizes that when they do it, but seriously, how would you feel if every time someone used the word "idiot" I jumped them in how it insults all the mothers of special needs people. The parents of special needs people within an ear shot of that would be insulted if I did such a thing.  Same thing follows with the r-word. Unless they are talking about your kid, to make it about your kid is calling your kid the r-word. It's insulting.

I am a firm believer that criticism is a person not calling someone else out on something, but projecting their own insecurities, worries and fears (some valid and some not so valid)… Parents of special needs who insult people for using the r-word I think are insecure about their child's special needs, in a way they probably don't even notice. They worry so much about their child being called names for their situation...  It's common. It's natural. I know. I too am a parent of a kid with special needs. You don't think I don't do the same thing? 

I am probably most guilty with this over the word fat. Every time someone belittles a person for their weight, I see my child getting belittled, and all the sudden I'm holding her feelings right there in the palm of my hands and this person is spitting on them. To steal Insane in the Mom-brain's concept, it makes me sporky. But that's my issue. It's in my head, and it haunts me even when people don't insult people for their weight. And my issue is, I have to get over the fact that my daughter is a little overweight, and yes some people are going to call her fat, just like people call me fat. Anorexic people get called fat. Everybody gets called fat. Just because I worry it might be true for one of my kids doesn't make it about her every time someone talks about fat. This is my issue. It's my fears. It's my worries. 

So I don't ask you guys to just remove the R-word from your vocabulary, but remove it from communication. If someone uses it in a way to demean, have at it. Tear them a new one. I'll be cheering you on. But demeaning people for using the word who wasn't trying to demean anyone is using the word to demean. Reread that one slower, and then try to say it real fast five times. But it's true. If you are demeaning people, you are demeaning people. I don't care whose name you do it in, whether it's autism or God. If you want to help, if you want to advocate, uplift people. Promote acceptance and understanding when you see it lacking. Save the insults for people who are actually insulting and deserve it. 

I don't expect you to be Jesus Christ and approach everything with love. I'm just saying, don't use autism or any "disorder" to hate people on our behalf. Don't use us to call someone an idiot on our behalf. You are not doing us any service with that, not at all. Autism is not the R-word. SPECIAL NEEDS IS NOT THE R-WORD. Quit telling people we are on our behalf.

And if you are a parent of a child with special needs, go find yourself a therapist. It's a tough gig. You need a place to vent. The stress, the anxiety, the lack of time for yourself, the lack of sleep, the lack of any idea of decent hygiene.... shoot all parents should go see a therapist. I never felt like I had any special needs until I became a parent. 

 

A random little rant...

All right everyone, give me 3 dollars. For what you ask? No reason. Just give it to me. It's just 3 dollars. It's not like it's a whole lot of money. Will it go to charity? Nope. I'll probably buy me some luxuries I want, though I do raise money for charity so if you want to donate to that too, go for it. Why should you just give me 3 dollars? Well, isn't that normal?

Confession: I'm obsessed with the breakfast burrito (add tomato, you have to add tomato) at McDonalds. Today I go through for my addiction, and I decide, since the hubs is home for once during breakfast, to get him a sausage egg mcmuffin ($2.75 before tax). When the woman handed me my bag with a half-assed fake smile, I knew right then she fucked up the order some how. People like that always fuck up the order.

So on my way out, I check the bag making people behind me honk at me because nobody stops in a parking lot. Sure enough, no Mcmuffin. So I then took my time clogging up the parking lot because people honked at me (never piss me off behind the wheel), and then I turned around, U-turn, off-roading a bit in the grass (which if you don't want me to drive crazy, don't honk at me), and I go back through. Yes, I could have parked and gotten out of the car and skipped the line inside because fuck ups do entitle you to skip the line, but then that defeats the purpose of driving through. You can't really skip line driving thru, so I wait for 3 cars. Pain in the ass right? Only if you have a life that day, and today I don't.

So I get up to the window (after explaining through the talker thingy), and the fake smile lady hands me a bag with another fake smile thanking me (she didn't recognize me from 5 minutes ago), and I look in the bag, and it's another breakfast burrito, with sauce, probably the guy behind me's order. I hand her back the bag and said, "It's supposed to be a sausage egg mcmuffin." She closes the window, fusses with other employees, like, "Where the fuck does she come up with a sausage egg mcmuffin?" Throwing things around like she gives up (thank God she didn't choose a career disarming bombs). Someone informs her that she forgot it earlier.

The thought of them giving the bag they just handed me that I just went through to the guy behind me was kind of grossing me out and pissing me off. Anyway, she hands me a bag with a McMuffin, finally, and this time, no smile. Grumpy face. "Sorry." Like her mommy made her apologize to a kid she doesn't like.

Now, I forget things. You can call me Ms. Forgetfulson. I forget almost everything. I totally get that other people do. I totally get that maybe she was up all night with a sick kid or arguing with an asshole boyfriend and work just wasn't something she really wanted to do today. I get all that. I don't care if she forgets. I don't care if they fuck up. We are all entitled to that. But own it.

How hard is it to sincerely apologize? Eye contact with that little, "I'm so sorry," with that sound in your voice that you truly are because you are aware I just had to take an extra few minutes from my day to help remedy your fuck up, minutes you get paid for that I don't... No, instead, I'm treated like I'm Satan walking in on sacred ground, like I'm the one who fucked up, like I'm the pain the ass, and McDonalds is totally entitled to my money without supplying the promised goods. You would think at their wages they would know the value of a dollar and why some people are not really wanting to donate to a for-profit organization.

Had McDonalds said, "Okay guys, we are taking 3 dollars out of each of your pay checks just because we forgot to give it to you," the same people who expect us to just give them 3 bucks for the hell of it, who probably make up only a small percentage of the McDonald workforce, would be pissed. Some would probably quit. Others might start a movement to Occupy McDonalds. It would make national news.

It would be one thing if this was the only time that's ever happened to me. No, this story is pretty much one that repeats itself, and I'm in a small town where the fuckups are less often than they are in the major cities. I would fucking lose my shit Joe Pesci style on a daily basis if I lived in a city.

So the fact that I did not just bitch slap some fake smiled bitch with a breakfast burrito through the drive through window this morning, seriously, McDonalds should give me a cookie, a chocolate chip cookie.

Dear Dr. Phil wannabe's of Walmart

Little rant... Happy Ending

When I'm at the grocery store, I shouldn't want to throat punch you while my kid is throwing a fit because you had to come tell me about my parenting skills because NEWSFLASH! All kids throw fits in public, and you did too when you were a little asshole before you grew up to be a big one. If you tell me I should spank because your parents spanked your ass, well NEWSFLASH! It didn't work did it? You are still an asshole. And you are more annoying than a flock of Jehovah Witnesses trying to get me to convert mixed with telemarketers trying to sell me magazine subscriptions and extended car warranties mixed with customer service from companies like Sprint and Xbox mixed with Westboro protesting funerals and cockroaches. Yes, you are more annoying than cockroaches. At least the cockroach gives me the gratification of smashing him with my shoe and killing him with a crunch-sound at least 5 times before it actually dies (and I don't they ever die, like I think they come back to life at the bottom of the garbage can after you throw them out). And no, you don't get the gratification of thinking I have cockroaches in my house. I killed those things in Puerto Rico at my mother in law's house. You are even more annoying than my kids throwing the fit, like I wasn't pissed off until you showed up. I expect a 5 year old to cry when she doesn't get her way, when she has to deal with minor discomforts like self-control. I don't expect tantrums from a grown ass person. Some of y'all actually do jump up and down and turn red with your adult fits, but even if you don't, you are still throwing a fit if you had to stop what you are doing to come give me a piece of your mind. You are behaving no different than a toddler, and if I'm going to spank anyone's ass over it, it will definitely be yours because you SHOULD know better. If you want to get into how people are supposed to behave, start with your damned self. Grow the fuck up.

When I'm in public and my kid goes ape shit, I'm a little busy. I don't have time to talk to you about your grandmother's soup recipe or to listen to you tell me exactly what my kid is doing like you are some sort of god when all you are doing is being a Madden giving me a play by play of the game I'm watching. Yes I'm aware my kid is going ape shit. I would think me kneeling down whispering sweet nothings into her ear about spankings and leaving would clue you in on such a thing. Like you are the daft one if you believe you are giving me wisdom with your, "Umm, excuse me miss, but your kid is throwing a fit, and a public place is no place for that." No shit Sherlock. Nothing gets passed you. Maybe you should join the Marine Corps with those awesome skills of observation, or better yet, you should run for President with your diplomacy skills and social tact. Do you really think I'm going to listen to your advice? Hell no. I don't want my kid growing up to act anything like you. YOU SUCK like a whore. Keep talking and I will make you drop to your knees like the bitch you are and assume the "suck my metaphorical dick" position. No for real, I have a tendency to "accidentally" hit people with my grocery cart or drop a can of green beans on their foot. When you got a kid throwing a fit and a grown up in your face distracting you while you were just trying to get some milk and bread in the first place and you are on a schedule with all this in front of you, it's easy to get clumsy. VERY EASY TO GET CLUMSY.

Now the happy side. One time I took my oldest to get pizza. We went into the Pizza Joint, grabbed the pizza, I put pizza in the car, she refused to get in the car. She kept planking to where I couldn't get her in her car seat. Whoever invented those suck because getting a kid who is totally cooperating with you into a car seat isn't an easy task, like you still break a nail or finger trying, and kids rarely cooperate, so where the fuck do they get this idea of making car seats so "user friendly" for kids who are rebelling against it? It doesn't help this kid is double jointed, so even with a 5 point harness, she can slip out of it, like a cat. Which she did. The ONLY way I was going to legally be able to leave that parking lot with that kid at that point was for her to agree with me, sit down, get buckled and stay seated. Instead, she was screaming bloody murder. Snot was flying from her nose, tears were soaking her clothes... We are talking total autistic meltdown. This angel appeared in the shape of a rich blond woman, one that looked like she would damn you to hell some Sunday morning for wearing those shoes with that dress, and she totally stepped out from any stereotype of her Gap clothes and 50,000 dollar SUV, and she calmly offered my child some health gum (yes they make health gum that has Vitamin C in it) while telling me I'm awesome. She stayed calm with a soothing voice the whole time. She did not judge that I was almost in the fetal position crying for my mommy, or that my car was a fucking trash can disaster that day, or that my clothes looked like color blind football coach picked them out, nor did she advise medication or spankings or not spanking or anything... She did not judge at all. She did not demean. She just helped. When I drove off, with my daughter happily sitting in her car seat buckled safely chewing her gum, I noticed the angel woman getting into her SUV with her what appeared to be tween daughter who sat there patiently for the 20 minutes her mother spent helping. A tween sitting patiently. You rarely see that in this world. NOW that is a person I want my kid to grow up to be like. That woman knows what she is doing.

So before you get all excited about the humor of sticking condoms in a mom's cart, or get the notion to tell that bitch with those kids what to do... how dare them be in your presence with that stuff, just think of this blog. How old are you? Do you want to be the beautiful angel lady? Or do you want to be the asshole, the hairy ugly asshole that shits all over the place? Just know, people will treat you as whichever one you decide to be, and I beg you, please don't make me accidentally run over your foot with my grocery cart. You are just adding to the shit I'm going to have to bring up to a priest some day.