Not My Circus, Not My Monkeys.

I've been struggling with social stuff lately. I've never really fit in and, frankly, I often find it hard to like people.
Nobody panic. If you're reading this through a link I've posted, you've made the cut.

I find it difficult to understand why people do the things they do and if their behavior strikes me as illogical my brain can't handle it. My immediate reaction is,"MAKE IT GO AWAY!" Sometimes I can suppress the urge but it inevitably wins out.

In the past week or two I have tried to make many people go away. Turns out it's harder than it should be. When someone unfriends me on social media I might wonder briefly what I may have said to offend them but it passes quickly. I understand that not everyone will like me which is no big deal.
Apparently others don't feel that way. They want me to tell them 'why'. My problem is that I really don't like to be mean and any lies I come up with just sound wishy washy. They're all people I have minimal to no contact with in the real world and it stresses me out that they think sharing a network is so damned important.

I'm feeling a bit like Claire in The Breakfast Club but we really have nothing in common. Why would we hang out, even just electronically? Yes, we all have children but if you think 'the only thing wrong with kids today is that we're no longer allowed to beat them', we're not even occupying the same universe. Or you refuse to vaccinate your kids but spend your evenings with them too drunk and/or stoned to properly care for them. Or I only ever see you bitch about your kids. I like my kids and I like being a mom. All your postings do is make me feel sorry for your children.

And then there's the drama. I just can't do it. I understand that we all make choices that can result in unwanted consequences but when it becomes a lifestyle my brain simply can't process it. The instant I hear things like,"My husband/exhusband/boyfriend/exboyfriend has been in prison for years and will be getting out soon.", alarms start going off in my head. You could be the nicest person in the world who made one bad relationship choice but it's not worth risking my (or my kids') mental or physical health to stick around and find out. My experience with people has been that bad choices tend to be a habit. Most of us learn with time but I don't have the spoons to deal with the process.  Ditto with alcoholics and drug addicts. You may be a great person but I really can't add that to my plate. Been there, done that, have the dead best friend to show for it.

 I have dozens of people in my social networks whom I will never meet in person. The thing is, I would be happy to. From now on my 'imaginary friends' will only be people I would be willing to sit and have a cup of coffee with.

You Say 'Obsession' Like It's a Bad Thing

One of the first things we were told when Evie was diagnosed was,"You should discourage her obsessions."

Pfffft.

Of course I did the opposite.
She gets on a kick and we indulge her to her heart's content. Sunglasses? Check. Bracelets? Check. Rings? Lipstick? Nail polish, phones, watches, music? Check.
These are her happy and her calm. I just don't have it in me to say,"You're autistic so you love things wrong."
 
And don't forget limiting 'screen time'. 'Screen time' is The Biggest of the Bads.  Her OT was disgusted that we ordered her a Kindle. You know, the Kindle that she goes weeks at a time without touching. She loves herself a phone (and how!) but even that comes down to music. Spotify and YouTube are her two best friends.

Now, my neurotypical son? He's the King of Screen Time. He was 3 years old the first time he sat down at a computer and it was as if he had been born with a mouse in his hand. Talk about obsessed. I never limited his 'screen time'. I was too busy being proud of his mad skills. And video games? He had every major gaming console for years, even when it required numerous family members chipping in to help purchase them. "But violence blah blah blah!" That was never a big thing. When he was 8 or 9 I rented Grand Theft Auto for him. I then sat down with him while he played it and provided a running commentary of things like,"Do you see how stupid this is?", or,"Does this seem 'cool' or 'right' to you?" So when the rest of his friends were obsessed with the series because their parents wouldn't let them play it he was all,"Meh. It's stupid." *poof*  No interest in killing hookers. 

His 'obsession' with technology has earned him several college credits already (he's only a Junior in high school) and landed him The World's Greatest First Job Ever. He gets to do tech support and is making a higher hourly wage than most of the jobs I ever had. And, hey, it's not a soul crushing grind.

Will Evie's interest in accessorizing ever land her a rewarding career? I don't know and, frankly, I don't care. I'm just not going to sit here and say,"It's not normal to want to wear so many watches so I'm not going to let you do it." I wouldn't discourage my neurotypical kid's interests and I refuse to discourage hers just because she's autistic.

There's a Freedom to Being a Middle Aged Fat Chick

A friend posted an article this morning that discussed feeling 'invisible' due to men only giving attention to women half their age. My immediate response was to point out that those men weren't worth pursuing but then I got to thinking about the 'invisible' part.

Invisibility rocks for those of us who have lived our lives with social anxiety. No one pays any attention to the tired looking, overweight woman with graying hair. It's not just men, either. Women see that you've 'let yourself go' and they pay you no mind. You're not different enough to draw contempt and you're not good looking enough to be a threat.

INVISIBILITY! w00t!

I spent most of my life wanting to blend but always managed to stand out nonetheless. It wasn't that I was such a looker. I just happened to be unusually small. 5' with an average weight of 95-100lbs draws attention whether you want it to or not. Women were the worst, though. I can't even count the number of times I would enter a situation only to be met with a stinkeye before I could even open my mouth to speak. Nowadays their eyes just slide right past me. I'm clearly not gonna be taking their menfolk.

Do I have moments when I wish I could fit into one of the old dresses still hanging in my closet because I've been too lazy to get rid of them? Or have the urge to pick up a box of hair dye when I'm in Walmart? Of course, but the feelings pass quickly when I remember all the baggage that came along with my 30 year old self's body. 

Plus, I have two daughters. They have the entire world telling that they have to be perfect. They need a mom in their corner saying,"Hey. You be you. Don't worry about them." More importantly, they need a mom showing them that.

I love me some good 'beauty' products but they're all about smelling good and not having alligator skin. Scaly and itchy isn't a good time for anyone. Ten years ago I was sucked in by the products trumpeting 'REDUCE THE APPEARANCE OF FINE LINES' but now I'm immune to that nonsense. I have wrinkles and saggy skin and I'm totally okay with that.

I'll happily continue to rock my not-even-remotely-styled graying hair while wearing my XL jeggings paired with a shapeless Doctor Who tee. After all, no one can see me anyway.

I'm Not Always Angry.

Lulz. Just kidding.

I'm angry a lot. I think it's the result of being a control freak. I get overwhelmingly frustrated with the world around me. Sometimes I can just let it go but other times I run out of patience completely. A couple times a year I snap and start deleting people from my social networks because I just can't take it any more.

I know some people enjoy my rants but I get tired of being so damned pissy all the time.

I reach the point where even minor things set me off. Does it really matter that someone believes Obama is having Big Pharma drop Ebola carrying nanobots through 'chemtrails' to implant us all with microchips that will trigger an immune response that will leave us all sterile?
Of course not but the ignorance still makes me want to throatpunch them through my monitor. There is enough in our world to get upset about without having to fabricate ridiculous shit like that.

Well, off to read my newsfeed. I'm sure there won't be anything there that could trigger me.

Because My Day Wouldn't Be Complete Without Pissing Someone Off...

I was sitting here thinking,"Thank God it's the last day of school before Winter Break!", and it got me to thinking about some posts I see on a regular basis that bother me.

You know the ones I mean. The incessant posts bitching about kids being out of school or, on the flip side, celebrating kids going back to school. Now, I completely understand if it's a work conflict/need to find a sitter situation but I never see the posts framed that way. They all come across as,"Why do I actually have to spend time with these small humans I chose to create?!"

I always loved weekends and breaks. Especially summer vacation. Not only did I get to spend more time with my kids but the stress of following a schedule was removed. I like my kids. They're good peoples and, more often than not, wildly entertaining. Frankly I always resented having to hand them over to someone else and am thrilled that we will be home schooling Evie. MINE! ALL MINE! Mwahahahahahahaha!!!

                                                                    You can't have her!

And speaking of autistic children, the majority of 'autism mom' pages spend entirely too much time bitching about the 'struggle' of being around their children. I can recall one rather spectacular public meltdown because a woman's after school respite worker was quitting. Initially I thought she meant an actual babysitter, like it was interfering with her ability to work, but nope. She was home but she needed respite after her child was gone at school all day. 

If I sound judgy it's because I hella am. What does it do to a child's self esteem to hear their mothers piss and moan every time they have to actually spend time with them? All I can think is that the world is populated with people who somehow never managed to notice the parents and kids around them so they had no idea it would entail, you know, work. It's not always easy and sometimes I would prefer to hear something other than the Wiggles Christmas DVD or be able to relax without a loud crashing sound coming from the other room or prepare yet more food that will go uneaten. It's a tough gig but the rewards are immense.

I dunno. I guess I just think people should appreciate their kids more. 'They won't be little forever' is such a cliche but it's true.

Don't Feel That Way.

I've spent the better part of the last 42 years wondering if my feelings and experiences are so damned invalid because I'm a woman or because I'm 'crazy'. Is it sexism, ableism or just a fun combination of the two?

If I had a dime for every time someone told me I had 'nothing to be depressed about' or that I should 'just stop worrying' I would be too rich to qualify for disability for my, you know, clinical depression and anxiety. *headdesk*

A friend posted a graphic this morning that was a response for all those who tell the chronically ill 'at least it's not cancer'. No doubt the people who say that are the same people who tell women devastated by miscarriage that 'at least it wasn't a real baby'. According to the graphic, the proper response is to punch the offending person and say,"At least it wasn't a gunshot."

Seriously, though. Why do people feel so compelled to minimize and invalidate the experiences of others? What exactly do they gain from it? Is it simply that they might feel obliged to empathize if they acknowledged that there was a problem so it's easier to pretend the person is just overreacting?

We see it all the time with people's reaction to the poor. That person over there can't afford to feed himself? He must not be working hard enough. That homeless person over there must have done something to deserve where they ended up. My situation is legitimate. That person's isn't. Everything is their own fault and if they'd just decide not to be that way their situation would improve.

I know there really isn't a point to this post. People without empathy will continue to belittle others and their experiences. Writing a blog post about it won't change anything. But, hey! People can choose to be All The Good Things and Never Have Problems Again, they're just clearly not trying hard enough.
Well, except for me. My problems are real.

Verbal or Nonverbal?

When Evie was first diagnosed I thought she must be 'verbal'. I mean, she said words here and there and I was seeing all these parents complaining about how they never heard their child's voice so clearly their children were 'nonverbal'.
'Thank goodness my child can talk', I thought,'She must not be very autistic'.

Go ahead and laugh. It's okay.

She couldn't use words to tell us what she needed but she could sing. She could say things like 'Daddy' and 'yogurt' and 'Elmo'. One day I was curious and asked her speech therapist if Evie would be considered verbal or nonverbal. She looked uncomfortable and changed the subject but it answered my question.

Now it's two years later. She chatters up a storm but still isn't conversational. Mostly it's one or two word requests, scripts of things we've said to her or song lyrics. Today something different happened, though. She was stomping loudly when I asked her,"If you want to stomp, where should you do it? Where should you stomp your sillies out?"
She took a minute to think about it (and, honestly I thought she wasn't paying attention to what I said) and then replied,"A trampoline."

I had told her countless times in the past that she should do her stomping on the trampoline but I was shocked by her response. I believe in presuming competence, which is why I asked the question in the first place, but I was still taken by surprise. Part of me knows she will progress and develop skills as time goes by. She already has so much. It's just so easy to fall into the trap of the day to day stuff and assuming it is where we will always be.

It may seem like a silly thing to get so excited over and it may not happen again for a while but it's a glimmer of things to come. 

Image credit: Brooke Goodwin
Image description: Adorable little girl with short dark blond hair, wearing a Little Mermaid tee shirt. She's trying to smile while winking at the camera.

Dear Kid With the Crappy Mother...

I see you.

I see you being treated like shit and neglected and there's nothing I can do about it but let you know that I see.

Sometimes it feels like she has the whole world fooled, doesn't it? After all, she has all her friends around cheering her on and patting her on the back when she disrespects you right in front of them. The thing is, their opinion doesn't matter. They're all peas in a pod treating their own children the way she treats you. Doesn't mean they're right. It just means that the people, like myself, who are horrified by that behavior are out here where you can't see us.

I remember when I was around twenty I had a woman approach me and tell me how sorry she felt for me when I was little. I thanked her and told her I wished someone had told me that when I was going through it because it might have made life more bearable to know there were people who saw the truth.

I see the truth and I do feel sorry for you. It's not fair to be treated badly by the person who brought you into this world. All children deserve to be loved and nurtured and it sucks that you can't have that but do you want to know a secret?

It will make you a better person. Yes, you could lash out at the world or turn to drugs or gravitate towards those who will treat you as badly as you've grown accustomed to...
Or
Or you can take everything you've experienced and turn it into a template of what not to be, of how not to treat people. It can make you strong and empathetic and kind and if you ever decide to become a parent you can be the mother you always wished you had. 

I see you because I've been you.