They Must Be Lying If They Didn't Report It At The Time

Really?
I keep reading that shit and it keeps making me want to punch people through my monitor.

I understand that not everyone has been sexually assaulted. What I can't understand is how anyone can go through life thinking sexual assault is akin to getting your car stolen or your house broken into.

It's not.

If our car got stolen today I would call the police immediately. Yes, we would get asked if it was locked but no one would sit back and let the thief keep the car because it was 'our word against his'. That shit's ours and we have the paperwork to prove it.

If I got raped today I would not call the police. Our society says my body belongs to whomever feels like fucking with it. If I don't want it taken I had better cover it up, stay away from parties and bars and not walk anywhere alone at night. Or date. Or simply exist. It would be 'my word against his' and everyone knows women are evil little seductresses that love to lie. Yes, I rolled my eyes as I was typing that.

To me it makes perfect sense that Bill Cosby's accusers are coming out of the woodwork now. He was a powerful man and those women, individually, knew they stood no chance of getting justice. Even now, with 20+ having come forward people still defend him. "Why now?!", they cry. I'll tell them why.
Safety in numbers.

When I was 16 I was accosted by one of our town's 'upstanding members'. He and his father had run a popular corner store for years. I had gone in there numerous times with no problems until the summer afternoon I walked in and was the only one in there. I was looking at a shelf of snacks when he came up behind me and put his arms around me. I blocked out the memory of what he said but I remember clearly what I was wearing. A light blue tank top dress over a white tube top. I remember so clearly because I wore the tube top underneath as I felt the dress alone was too low cut and I didn't want attention drawn to my breasts. That didn't stop him from pulling it open and looking at them anyway.
I'd love to say that I turned around and slapped him but I froze. I felt powerless because I knew I was powerless. He was a 'respected member of the community' while I was just a teen from a white trash family. No one would believe me.

Well, not 'no one'. One friend laughed and was all,"Duh. He does that to everyone." A few years later someone told me he had offered her money for sex (when she was underage) which she turned down.

To my knowledge no one ever reported him for anything but what would happen if someone came forward today? How many women, besides the three of us that I know of, could come forward? He ran that store for many years so I'm guessing the official number would be somewhere around a shit ton. Does it all magically become untrue because we didn't report it at the time?

Women grow up hearing the message that we're all liars and drama queens. Even when we're beaten up and bloody we must 'like it rough'. And it's not just from men. We do it to each other. If she's thinner or more attractive she must have 'asked for it'. On the flip side, if she's less attractive she must be 'making it up' because no one would want to sexually assault her anyway, right?

I don't know where to even begin to change these attitudes. I can only do me. If you tell me you have been assaulted I am going to believe you. I would rather risk having misguided faith than feed into our rape culture any further.

My Kids Hate Me. Or How To Be Cool.

I saw yet another 'teenagers are surly beasts who can't stand their parents' blog posts and I honest to goodness don't know why that's such a thing.
"If your kids don't tell you they hate you you're doing it wrong."
Are you freakin' kidding me? This is what passes for parenting wisdom?!
I hated my mom because she was abusive, controlling and one of the most selfish people I've ever known. So, what, does that mean she was 'doing it right'?

My kids don't hate me. It's not that we never argue but odds are it's about big stuff like political philosophies or our positions on euthanasia. They may not like everything I do but they certainly don't seem to dislike me.

I am an explainer not a punisher. From the time they were knee high to a grasshopper I explained in detail about why we had the rules we had and why they shouldn't do certain things. The phrase 'because I said so' has never been a thing in our house.
"But I don't want to have to explain everything. They should just listen."
Let me let you in on a little secret. If they learn at a young age that you always have a well thought out reason for saying 'no', they don't fight with you about it when they're teens. For reals. Ask my 24 year old or 17 year old. They'll back me up on this. If you don't have well thought out reasons? I'm afraid I can't help you there. Treat them like people and not possessions to be controlled and it makes a HUGE difference.
"So, you're raising brats then?"
Um, not even close. People like my kids. My kids will open doors for you. They'd give you the money in their pockets if you needed it. Or fix your computer. My son actually runs into a problem on occasion where people assume he must be putting them on ( Eddie Haskell style) because a teen who uses 'sir' or 'ma'am' can't possibly be for real. *eyeroll*

My son was getting ready to head out the door for school as I was writing the above. I told him what I was doing and he said that he has a few friends who like their parents just fine so he's not sure why this 'hate the parents' business is such a thing, either.

If you're struggling with your teen(s) I have no idea how to help with that. I think family dynamics are created while they're young so I'm not sure how one goes about fixing them later on. Every day is a chance to start fresh but it may take a bit of time for them to trust that changes are happening.

Then there's the subject of 'cool parents'. I'm not talking about the 'buy them beer - buy them cigs - hey honey you're only 16 but let's get matching tattoos' type of  'cool parents'. Um...no.
I'm talking about the 'your kids aren't embarrassed for their friends to meet you' type of 'cool parents'. It's attainable. Really. The secret is to pay attention to everything they say. Even when you don't understand what they're on about. Especially when you don't understand what they're on about. Not only do you learn about your kid but it shows them that you value them enough to want to know about what's important to them. And for the love of all that is holy, do not make pop culture references that you do not understand. The whole Pathetic Parent Who Is Trying Too Hard To Be Cool routine is just painful and will ensure that your child will avoid you like the plague. When your kids truly think you are cool you won't be able to embarrass them even when you try. I once told a guy that my 14 year old thought he was dreamy, right in front of her, and she just laughed her ass off. On the flip side, it is verymuchuncool to pull that same trick in front of a boy that she really likes. Know. The. Difference.

It's possible to be the authority and the friend. Your kids are people. If you treat them like human beings with rights and responsibilities they will respect you.

And talk to you. And eat dinner with you. And introduce you to their friends.
And laugh hysterically with you while preparing to get married.

Photo Credit: Jane Sandelman

*image is of a light skinned young woman with dark hair, holding a bouquet of flowers and wearing a wedding dress while laughing along with an older light skinned woman with dark hair holding a smaller bouquet wearing a garnet colored patterned dress while laughing.

Forced Out of My Bubble

The funny part about keeping so close to home is that I often forget Evie is autistic. We live inside our bubble of 'normal' and it usually requires some outside influence to remind me. Seeing friends post videos or anecdotes about their kids will often cause me to say,"Oh, yeah. That's what typical 4 years old do." It's just a thing that happens and I don't think much about it anymore.

What's slapping me in the face lately is the reminder that I'm disabled. Yes, I have been on disability for the past 7 years but, like so many with an 'invisible' disability, I often feel like an imposter. All that 'freeloader' stuff starts to have an effect and guilt sets in. Maybe it's really not so bad. I can function, sort of. Living inside our bubble of 'normal' keeps me safe and allows me to mistakenly believe those things.

My eldest daughter is getting married tomorrow and that has brought it all home. I am so excited for her and I know it's the right choice for them. She and her fiance are made for each other and they will have a happy life together. She will be a beautiful bride and the ceremony will be lovely. What more could a mother want?

This mother wants to be 'normal' for a day.

Just one day where I can face a crowd without having to fight off panic. One day of not being so overwhelmed that I have difficulty focusing on what's going on around me. One day of not worrying about everything and, for God's sake, to stop thinking about the meltdown I had in the middle of her 1st grade Book Fair. I know I'll make it through but it will be so damned hard and it makes me so angry that I can't get my brain to behave.

Sunday I'll be back inside my bubble and I have no intention of leaving it again.

No, My Child Is Not 'High Functioning'*.

* Note: I do not believe in functioning labels. I think they're meaningless but my use of them here is to quote and illustrate where too many parents are coming from.

I try not to argue with people on the interwebs these days. It's pointless. That being said, I have found that when I post comments on autism pages there's one type of parent who always tries to start a load of crap.
"You're only saying that because your child is 'high functioning'!"
I am well and truly sick of these people.

"My child is violent!"
Yeah, my kid was too until we stopped trying to work against her neurology and started working with it.



"But my child still isn't potty trained!"
Not saying it's a party changing diapers but did you hate your child for it the first two years of their life? Get past the idea of what is 'supposed to be' and it'll get a lot easier.

"My child is nonverbal!"
What speech my child has is very unreliable and often understandable only to us. If she said,"Banana chickens", to a stranger they would have no idea that she's talking about The Muppets' version of Bohemian Rhapsody.

"And the constant meltdowns!"
Again, my child had far more meltdowns back before we realized what her triggers were. By eliminating as many triggers as we can we have drastically reduced the number of meltdowns.

"And my child requires constant supervision!"
Yep. This place gets secured like it's Alcatraz before I can run to the bathroom for 2 minutes. Is this stuff really such a terrible hardship?!

"We get no services!!!"
Yeah, we don't either. My child doesn't even go to preschool. It's been literally years since my husband and I went anywhere without her.

Don't assume that our lives must be a piece of cake simply because we're happy. The two really have nothing to do with each other. My daughter has her challenges but she also has her strengths and that's what we choose to focus on. This whole 'my life is worse than your life' competition is ridiculous and more than a little bizarre if you think about it. What prize are these people competing for?

 Photo is of an ecstatic little girl in an orange shirt playing a piano in a tunnel. She is also wearing a blue bracelet and is unbearably cute.

Martyr Moms

I'm the Crazy One

Last night one of my childhood abusers popped up on the side of my Facebook page as a friend suggestion.
Well, why wouldn't he? We certainly have enough 'mutual friends'.

My abuser was the golden boy. Everyone thought he was such a great guy. So much so that I knew at the age of five not to bother telling on him because what good would it do? I knew everyone liked him better.
An aunt caught him assaulting me once and told him she would tell my mother if she caught him doing it again. Guess what? She never caught him again so it continued. For years. Duh.

For years the knowledge that someone knew and did nothing to protect me messed me up worse than the abuse itself. As an adult I was told that the reason no one reported it was the same reason I didn't. Fear of not being believed or even being turned on for maligning Mr Perfect. When I was a teen I told someone and since I was in state's custody at the time my parents had to be notified.
It changed absolutely nothing. No one cared.

At a family gathering a week before my 16th birthday I begged my mother not to invite him to my party. Her response was to walk into the room and ask him what his plans were for the following weekend. I spent much of  'my' party sitting on the front porch. Looking back I realize that incident was a pretty good summation of my childhood.

Years later he was busted for messing with another young girl. He served a little time and is now on the sexual offender registry.

Everyone still thinks he's a swell guy. Me? I'm the 'crazy' one.

What do you do when everyone likes your abuser more than they like you?

Once Upon a Time...

They lived happily ever after.

The end.

No, wait. I think I missed some parts in there.

Hello. My name is Tamara and this is my introduction post thingy. Most of you reading this will know this stuff but a few of you won't. Even if you do think you are familiar with the material, you should review as there will be a test.

I am a 42 year old woman who lives in Vermont.
I will probably write about that on occasion.




I am happily married.
I will probably write about that on occasion but this won't be one of those 'poke fun at the clueless husband' blogs.

I have 3 children.
I will most likely write about them but I don't fancy myself one of those 'mom bloggers'.



My 4 year old daughter was diagnosed with autism 2 years ago.
I will definitely write about her but this won't be one of those 'my child was stolen from me by teh autismz and I hate my life' blogs.


We're poor. Not 'free lunch' poor. Well, not anymore. We've moved up into the 'reduced lunch' category of poor. w00t!
I may write about that on occasion.

I am most likely autistic myself. I'm definitely an anxiety-ridden blob much of the time.
I will write about that on occasion. 

I have very strong political views.
I will likely not post much about them here. I'm not big on pissing contests.

I consider myself a Leftist Christian.
I will not post much about that here. Again with the not big on the pissing contests.

I swear. Quite a bit.
Mainly the standards. Not the stuff your drunk Uncle Steve comes out with when he's fighting with your father on Thanksgiving.

I have no idea how this site works so I'll probably stumble around here a bit until I get my sea legs. 

Did I forget anything?