We Haz Fame!

Remember this little guy?

Before he grew all big and tall and confident? Well a funny thing happened on the way to puberty. As an intense part of his younger speech therapy days was daily rhyming and poetry. Now the young Boy 1 used to write beautiful poems and was quite unimpressed with his Madmother trying to make light of it with terms such as poo, bum, and the worst one - fart being used. Anyhoos, he soldiered through and with some one-on-one brainstorming sessions produced some pretty damn good poems. Most of which were lost in the drunk drive fiasco - remember that? No? Before blog time methinks.

Fast forward to the world of today. A writing contest is being touted at the school. Can be old, new, poems or prose. Both boys decide to submit older work. Boy 2's poem is one of the first things I posted when I started my blog. Boy 1's was even older. He wrote it in Grade 1, yes in those intense rhyming days. Now, I was so proud (as was his speechie) that I posted this on an autism poetry website. With copyright (whilst his christian name was on the piece, oh and age = 7, it was my name that appeared after the little circled c) held by moi truly! So, although I luckily had a copy saved in a file on my work pc, I figured save time google. Google is a very useful tool, let me say.



You wanna know what I found?

This poem (without permission I might add) has been used:

• in a brochure for an American university's autism programme
• in a sermon
• in a play
• on a FB page for a support group in Maritius
• in a school website
• in a book - this one gets me as it is a bestseller and the author should have known better. Am following this up as we speak.

Now, the site it was posted originally on is pretty clear about copyright, and my name and contact details were obtainable. Half of me is beaming in pride at my very talented boy, the other half is seriously pissed that people take liberties like this. The university has been great, and I have, with a few conditions, given permission to continue using it. The author - well, that one is pending.

I'm also wondering if the competition judges will accuse him of plagiarism seeing as you can google it and it comes up so many places. Am going to talk to the teacher today to let her know.

And no, I'm not posting it here, I've learnt my lesson on THAT one!

My boy haz famze!

AusMummyBlogCon Vs Australian Bloggers Festival

Most of you would be sitting back watching the territorial shit fight unfold over the web. AusBlogCon (which has now announced it will downscale and only concentrate on Mummy Bloggers for the next one) and the new kid on the block, the Australian Bloggers Festival (which will from now on be affectionately known as AusBlogFes).

Now I didn't attend ABC this year, and whilst I am hearing lots of glowing reports in posts I am also hearing voices of dissent and disappointment. Always the case in any big function - you can't please all of the kids all of the time. I am not going to comment as I WAS NOT THERE, and this is something a lot of others need to keep in mind. Hearsay is not admissable in a court of law and in the real world it is called GOSSIP. As a lovely lady once told me: "If you aren't part of the problem, nor part of the solution: ZIP IT!"

It is not some sort of blogging bitch fight and those who wish to make it such have greatly dropped in my impression of them. For me, I do not see myself as a "Mummy Blogger", I am a mother who blogs and my scope is so much broader than the bounds of motherhood. It is why I am a member of so many diverse blogging groups (-> see sidebar), it is why I have four blogs.

So for ME the AusBlogFest is going to suit far more, and I know many others who will fit this group far better, as basically some are:
(1) Men
and
(2) Not mothers.

Lastly - for fuck's sake GROW UP and start acting like adults instead of the children you mother! Some of the comments have amazed me - from both sides. It really is not the way to win friends and influence people. JMHO.

Disclaimer: This is NOT aimed at the organisers but rather some of the comments I am reading in various places.

Blog Friends

Just had to jump on and say:

I just had the best day!

Finally managed to meet the lovely Jen from Jemikaan (and her gorgeous tribe - man, those two have three beautiful children). Sorry, no photos - I was too busy chatting and catching up. Pretty sad seeing as I even remembered to grab my Picsio prize camera (well, it is shock and waterproof after all).

But we were too busy talking, supervising kids, playing with kids, leading kids astray with bad adult behaviour... Okay, so that was mainly me.

But it was so good to meet her, and I must admit I felt like we'd known each other in person for years. Goes to show you yet again how well you get to know someone over the mighty web. As Big Boy said on the way home:

I seem to know the nicest cyber people!

Sitting here now, looking like a drowned rat but can't stop smiling...

Earth Hour and the "Oh Crud" Factor

Earth Hour. Pushed, promoted, publicised, principled. Boy 1 is a mad environmentalist, the sort of kid who picks up litter, ANY type of litter, wherever we go. The one who constantly discusses our impact on our home planet and instructs us in ways to minimise it.

Earth Hour. Where ALL the lights are turned off. Earth Hour. Great idea. Except if you have a boy with Autism Spectrum Disorder with a great fear of the dark, yes, even with candles and torches and camping light thingys. Even sometimes with Eldred hovering protectively.

So on a night where Big Boy is out on one of his rare social evenings with the boys, and the wind is blowing and howling around the house in the clouds, was this ever going to be a good idea? No. First gust driven flicker of a candle we had hysteria. Lights on!

Sorry Earth, we tried and failed. But hey, at least you have a boy who is dedicated to improving your health on a daily basis, not just a once a year warrior!

For my Sunday Sessions I'm dedicating my selection to a Wet N Wild adventure where I and my family are finally meeting the wonderful Jemikaan and her lot! Woot!

Thea's away this week having some friendship fun herself so just add a comment and link here if you want to have your own Sunday Session!

My oldie:



My Newie (just change the words to day, eh?):




WooHoo... Here we go now!

FYBF - You Never Know What Lurks Behind.

People amaze me. Not only do you have incredible generousity and kindness, you also witness absolute nastiness and vile behaviour. One minute you marvel at the noble unselfishness of strangers, the next you are doubled over in pain at a vicious offensive from an acquaintance or even more painful, a supposed friend. As adults these high-school games and attacks are meant to be behind us. But they are not.

There are two reasons for this in my point of view.

Firstly, if you have been the victim of such an attack in your lifetime it lingers. It settles like a hidden wound deep in your psyche, waiting to resurface and leak bad memory pus all over your present. Some of the time this colours your interpretation of the written word, or even real life conversations leading you to either:

(a) go on the offensive yourself

or

(b) curl up in a ball reliving the horrific experiences of the past in the present day.

Secondly, life is hard in today's world. The "I want" generation is now finding keeping up with the Edelstein's  (for the Joneses have long dropped down the social ladder) nearly impossible. People are unhappy with life, with the circumstances they have to live within (damn you GFC), and the most sad, with themselves. It is not only a desire for themselves, they yearn for their children to have more, to be accepted and fit in. Everyone wants to be popular, but for some the desire brings forth jealousy which creates spiteful, childish behaviour. They resort to the patterns of youth, never seeming to have gained the wisdom from growing up.

Which one am I? I think I fall into group one. Both sections. Reading Courtney's brave post brought forward some really bad memories from my school days. Isn't that sad - these days are over thirty years back and yet can be relived in a flash. It is a part of me I always remain aware of, I need to fight to keep it under control when looking at the next generation. I have to realise my experiences and the fights of my childhood are not theirs or their reality. Take a deep breath, step back and soothe the hidden black panther uncoiling itself from slumber.

I guess underlying all this is a message. You never know what is hiding behind a smile. People can mask pain really effectively and the cries of "I had no idea" are fruitless when it is too late to rescind an action.

This is my FYBF. A little late because I just couldn't bring myself to finish it last night.







And to cheat a little I am adding my Weekend Rewind into this post. October was a terribly hard month last year. It was the month I lost my mother, Wise Woman. Reading back through my posts there were two I thought about adding. One poignant and probably quite appropriate given the topic of this post, the other a joyous memory of my childhood and why I believe in myself. Because she did, always. So I chose the second.

Blog Drool...

Hah - so much for culling my blog list! It has now growed back even bigger. So many blogs, so little time.

*Drool* *Dribble* *Slurp*

Must. leave. chair. Back. to. reality...

Dusting Off My Mermaid Tale...

Sitting here in the wee hours of the morning feeling a bit miffed. Sour grapes? Hell YEAH! Inundated by all the posts about AusBlogCon 2011 it is like being the only kid in the school who didn't get invited to the cool gang's party.

Please tell me next year's isn't on the same weekend? No way can I get away with missing Big Boy's birthday (nor would I want to) and with our two boys, family travel just isn't that simple.

And to think - I was there at the beginning of a lot of these blogs and have missed the chance to meet the bloggers behind them in person.

Well, at least I managed to make it to the Qld Bloggers Meet. Which was really good. Just would have liked to do both.

Hmmph.

Am dusting off my mermaid tail and wood elf wings, polishing up my stories and yarns, getting ready for my big debut next year. Only please change dates a little, hey? I'll play nice! And yes, I do own a tail and wings. So ner!


P.S. My sour grapes may have a little something to do with sleep deprivation also.

Autismination

I never know how much to tell, if it becomes repetitive for older followers, or whether new followers read back through to past posts and know anyway.

I have two sons. Boy 2, my smart-arse, sensitive, witty, too damn intelligent for his own good, little boy with an adult mind child. He is eleven years old, turning twelve in the second half of this year.

He is also my child teetering on emotional vulnerability at this time.

And Boy 1. Oh, my Boy 1. My child with Asperger Syndrome (see - I used person first language there, all politicially correct ya know). For those who don't know AS is within the Autism Spectrum Disorder classificiation (for now, anyway).

Boy 1 has just turned thirteen. He is flowing full tilt into the puberty years, the time where life is said to become unpredictable (scary), full of mood swings (scary) and irrational (terrifying). Yet for our son, who showed all the signs of beginning this teenage phenomenum at eleven and a half, it is not true. We have a young man making great strides in becoming independant, who is happy and content in his own skin. He likes himself. If only we all could say that about ourselves.

Lately there has been a lot of commenting about terminology on the Special Needs sites and boards I frequent. I must admit it does not phase me if someone does not use the first person, ie a child with ASD, I even tend to use my Aspie boy as a phrase just as I would use my blonde child, or my blue-eyed son. It is a part of who he is and always will be.

But there is something I do take issue with, it goes against everything we believe. We have some great help in the form of an OT and a physio from the education department of our state. They have been wonderful in their interaction, assessment and advice for Boy 1. What distressed us though is a casual comment, no harm intended, but still not acceptable. "This community is very accepting of people with disabilities and problems." Ah, no... never, for he is not disabled, in fact many would love to have this amazing boy in their lives (over a moody, angry teenager). Disability is not a term we ever use in our house (except maybe when it comes to their Madmother and technology, but that is another story).

Differing abilities, this is what we live with. We have always encouraged the strengths of Asperger Syndrome with Boy 1. He is very comfortable with who he is and having Aspergers, probably somewhat to do with how his syndrome is accepted in our everyday lives. The last thing we want is for anyone to go "poor you" and tell him he is disabled, because he is not. He is incredible - just ask him!

Please, if you are in the community always remember these kids have big ears and you can do so much damage with words. You wouldn't like it if someone said something disparaging about you and yours, would you? Even the simplest and seemingly acceptable language to you may not be to others.

Just think before speaking, advice we should all follow (me included). Because it just may be someone's future you are playing with, and their whole perception of themselves.

Have a good one!

Monday Madness from Manic Madmother - Yes, Fluff!

If you yelled for 8 years, 7 months and 6 days you would have produced enough sound energy to heat one cup of coffee.

(Hardly seems worth it.)

If you farted consistently for 6 years and 9 months, enough gas is produced to create the energy of an atomic bomb.

(Now that's more like it!)

The human heart creates enough pressure when it pumps out to the body to squirt blood 30 feet.

(O.M.G.!)

A pig's orgasm lasts 30 minutes.

(In my next life, I want to be a pig.)

A cockroach will live nine days without its head before it starves to death.

(Creepy... I'm still not over the pig.)

Banging your head against a wall uses 150 calories an hour.

(Don't try this at home; maybe at work.)

The male praying mantis cannot copulate while its head is attached to its body. The female initiates sex by ripping the male's head off.

(Honey, I'm home. What the...?)

The flea can jump 350 times its body length. It's like a human jumping the length of a football field.

(30 minutes. Lucky pig! Can you imagine?)

The catfish has over 27,000 taste buds.

(What could be so tasty on the bottom of a pond?)

Some lions mate over 50 times a day.

(I still want to be a pig in my next life... quality over quantity.)

Butterflies taste with their feet.

(Something I always wanted to know.)

The strongest muscle in the body is the tongue.

(Hmmmmmm...)

Right-handed people live, on average, nine years longer than left-handed people.

(If you're ambidextrous, do you split the difference?)

 Elephants are the only animals that cannot jump.

(Okay, so that would be a good thing.)

 A cat's urine glows under a black light.

(I wonder how much the government paid to figure that out.)

An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain.

(I know some people like that.)

Starfish have no brains.

(I know some people like that, too.)

Polar bears are left-handed.

(If they switch, they'll live a lot longer.)

Humans and dolphins are the only species that have sex for pleasure.

(What about that pig? Do the dolphins know about the pig?)

Now that you've smiled at least once, it's your turn to spread these crazy facts and let it bring someone you like smile, maybe even chuckle.

(and God love that pig!)

Tonight I am Grateful for:

My son. My second son. The one who was meant to be my easy child (what a terrible burden to subconciously place on a child, I know). Tonight we had a reminder of how fragile he still is at times. I am grateful he was with me. Boy 1 and his father are at the school buddy sleepover. Boy 2 and I were having a well-deserved one on one evening. We should have stayed home. But we didn't. I am so truly grateful he talks to me, opens his heart, puts his life into words. More than that, I am grateful every day to have such a complicated, beautiful, living, breathing blessing in my life.

He was in such a dark place for months last year, I often wondered if we would lose him. Tonight I was taken back to that bleak time, as he was. Anther child at a social function repeatedly called him an idiot. Once upon a time that would not have worried him. After all kids will be kids. But what broke him down was the realisation that these were phrases he once used to a friend, his best friend. In his time of despair he lashed out, driving away those who cared. Logically he knew he had done this but tonight obviously hit home how it ACTUALLY feels to be on the receiving end. How much those words as weapons had injured his friend, and the relationship.

He broke. His words to me were: "He is right, that boy is right, I must be an idiot to have hurt my friend like that." Big revelation to an emotionally frail young man.

And so I AM grateful. Grateful he can see how words hurt, grateful he understands emotions at eleven years of age, grateful he is here.

We left the party, have come home and are about to watch a warped comedy. Together. I will leave you with his words:


"I love tears Mum, they let me know I am still a human." And for that I am very grateful.

Word Verification Waffle.

Am I the only one who finds some of these hilarious? The only one with a warped mind?

The latest one on my last comment (DFF - all your fault!):

Kenclap: something Ken desperately does not want Barbie to find out about...

FYBF - Autism Soapbox Time

I read a phrase a minute ago which resonated powerfully. Well, actually I misread a phrase, but I'm running with it anyway.

Diagnosis paralysis.

You know, that overwhelming feeling of "what the fuck?" which hits when you receive the final verdict. Now this feeling is not limited to those with children on the autism spectrum, no. It is a state of limbo all experience with any serious diagnosis - it can be a special need, an illness, a prognosis or a condition. Frozen in ineffectiveness. A state of suspension, similar to the feeling when you wake in the midst of a dream of falling. Weightlessness and fear. Stunned, stopped, struggling to comprehend a new, usually unexpected to some degree, reality.

Diagnosis paralysis.

We all have or will experience it at sometime with someone in our lives. Be it the quirky child you thought was merely eccentique, the close relative whose aches and pains turn out to be something far more insidious than mere aging, or the friend (whose socially engorged lifestyle you envy as you sit waist deep in nappies) who reveals the hidden agony of infertility. The earth falls away  and you sit trapped in "What? How? Why? WHAT?"

Diagnosis paralysis.

Sometimes we just need to process not progress.

 
Happy FYBF - Have a great time ABCers!
 

Heya!

I have taken down my last post. Not because I do not own my words, but because I have decided it merely spreads the negative and in a way makes me as bad as the one it was about. Nothing will change her actions or skewed perceptions, thus it serves no POSITIVE purpose and honestly, I am the sort of person to vent and it is gone.

Life is good in general, I am surrounded by great people, there is so much joy in my world at the moment. And as someone once said:

"The best revenge is living well!"

Photo courtesy of Zoe @ Nuffnang Qld Bloggers meet. Will put up link after work.

All good here. How about you?

"Why are you doing this?"

"Oh for god's sake. Give it up. This is just crap. Do you really think it is what people want to read? Why are you doing this?"

This was the anonymous lament that was posted on my piece:

Welcome to the Inner Sanctum

And this is my answer.

Because not every damn thing is ABOUT YOU! That post is a piece of creative writing prompted by a picture sent to me by an old dear friend as a joke. You remember jokes don't you? And fiction? Yes, there are probably points that resonated, but hey - why the hell were you even on my blog? Trying to find more things to lie and try to cause trouble about? What I find so very ironic is that this is terminology that I have used for decades, and yet YOU chose to use those exact phrases to try and hurt me when your gloves came off. Remember we joked about t-shirts for my 45th? And how you laughed because you had never HEARD of those expressions? The same expressions you STOLE to try and get at me? Yes, I did realise exactly what that printout on the fridge that day was meant to do, sadly for you it failed. All it ended up doing was to open my eyes as to what a dull, unoriginal, immature person you are.

I was going to leave this. I was not going here again as I was free and clear and happy. I had not published that comment because you are one of the most pitiful, attention seeking people I have ever had the misfortune to know. But then you had to do it, didn't you? You know what I refer to. 
You see, it is not as it was when you were lying, manipulating, and attacking me. You really stuffed up this time. There are now many of us who see you for what you are. We compare notes and it is easy to follow the trail of falsehood when you don't even keep the story straight. The crocodile tears and the poor defenceless me act doesn't work when the audience knows all it is is just a bad performance.

I pity you, I really do. I once wondered if you really were delusional enough to believe the bull you spread, thought maybe you were so caught up in playing the victim you had convinced yourself your falsehoods were truth. I actually would have been willing to talk it all out in those days. Not any more. Not since your attacks involved my husband and my children, not since it became an attempt to destroy me and who I am. Especially as the pattern of deceit is now obvious.

Guess what? I know you lied to your own husband because he was still polite and friendly with me. Saying I was telling people he tried to crack on to me? Pfft - what a load of bull... but you needed to make him so uncomfortable he could not face me, didn't you?  Poor man. Not to mention all the other accusations you made up about me. The so-called attacks, the things I allegedly said. You must know it was only you and your lies, always you. Or are you so delusional that your twisted crap has become your reality?

But people like you get found out. The bullshit flows and flows until it is a flood of fabrication totally beyond your control.  You get so caught up in your tangled web of manipulation, accusations and possessiveness you forget you could lose.You try childish ultimatums, thinking only of winning, and then fall in shock when it all blows apart in your face. And all untruths lose power once they are revealed. Unmasked.

I have to wonder what the people you spill your bile to think? Do they worry: "If she is saying this to me about them, what is she saying to them about me?" They should. Yet I know it took a long time before I did. Friends should never destroy others like this.

Didn't anyone ever tell you that you don't say such horrible things about people you supposedly care about? 

I wonder if Eeyore (whom you  so named) knows you tell people you don't really like her but inherited her? Does she know you mock and ignore her when she calls? As for telling my lovely, trustworthy, truthful friend that I had called one of your best friends a stalker... Hah - Eeyore, one of your best friends? You don't even like her! Someone you have no time for? Um yes, I did call her a stalker but she is not dangerous, merely sad. Oh, and don't you remember YOU were the one telling me of her obsession with me? The fact all she could talk about to her psych was me? Forget that bit, did you? Or were you so busy using her as a puppet to do your bidding of late that it slipped your mind? Hell, with you as a so-called friend, who needs enemies? Poor sad Eeyore.

Now though, now you gambled and tried to hurt so many others. But the thing about gambling is the risk of losing, and you now have. All gone - your house of cards built on untruths has finally toppled.  

But don't worry about us. You are not what is focused on. It is only when you attempt your nasty, childish games that you are mentioned. And even then my advice is to ignore the behaviour, just as you would a petulant child. Most days you are not even a fleeting thought.


As you said to a friend: "So that's it then?" Yes. It is. Bazinga. Done.

For those reading this, if you haven't read of the horror of this experience and the one about whom I am talking then go to:

• here
• here
• here
• here
• here
• here
• here
• here
• here

Apologies for the rant, but it needed to be told. Honestly, how disgusting to do this again and again and again.

Well, This Certainly Was an Unusual One!

What a mixed weekend! Bit like the girl with the curl... You know the one:

There was a little girl,

Who had a little curl

Right in the middle of her forehead.

When she was good,

She was very, very good

But when she was bad,

She was HORRID!

The good bits were incredible:

Friday night birthday dinner for a lovely new friend (and with some old ones). Great food, great company, lots of laughter (and yes Rose, I was a wild one in my youth now I think about it). It was especially good because up until about 2 hours prior to the reservation I did not think I could swing it. But thanks to my wonderful Big Boy, and two very well behaved little-ish boys (+ their two really cool mates), make it I did! Excellent night!

Saturday Nuffnang Bloggers meet. Well, what can one say about perfection? Seriously wonderful day, company unsurpassed, fantastic to meet bloggers I have only gotten to know on the web, and great to make some new discoveries to follow. Must admit the highlight (besides meeting the glorious Melissa in all her flamboyant glory) was enjoying the company of a young man named Tornado. He won my heart with very little effort.

The pictures tell the story (none of my little friend - I'll leave that to his Mum), and I've not added all as many who attended will add their's...

Kookaburra Cafe, Paddington 12.3.2011

Me 'n Melissa (Suger Coat It)

No wine involved, but the vaseline on the lens helped!

Here's trouble! Tracy (Our Life in Blog Form), cjtato (Not Tonight Dear) and Madmother.

And on Sunday we again headed off to the big smoke for a visit to the Qld Museum at Southbank. It was a good day until one experience soured it a little, but more on that in the BAD. Which has a good side too.

Which I may as well jump into now...

Friday started the negative. Harsh written words finally drove me away from a parenting website I have been a member of for five years. It is a place that has saved my sanity more than once, and where I have made some wonderful cyber and irl friends. I won't rehash too much, see my previous posts and you'll get the jist.

Saturday was good, with a little residual regret about the loss, and some major LOUDNESS at the lunch (yes, by me - I am loud but do tend to get more so when nervous).

Sunday. Well Sunday was the day of holy crap! Before we left I had an incident with a stray kitten. The little thing was out in the rain in our rainforest, I managed to coax the timid scrap to me, Big Boy went back inside to get food and a cat cage. Cat saw either Big Boy or cage as extremely distressing and so renovated my hands and wrists with a fair amount of savagery. More upsetting was the fact this little thing took off like a rocket and is still out there alone in the rain.

So we are late heading off. Go to Museum. When boys and father wander downstairs to interactive science section (where we have been many times before) I decide to hit the markets and join up with them later.

Spend my time giggling away at a badges stall, bought many for my boys (and one for me: Don't drink Drive, it is a laundry detergent), headed back to meet my men.

Walk up, Boy 1 looking distressed. Quickly becomes clear why.

They were going to call and meet me after indulging their geek side. Phone rings, am 5 metres from them go to meet up.  This is what I was then told.

Coming down lift after going across overpass to bypass traffic, 2 young asian girls were in lift with them. Doors open, they all get out. Guy (and 2 others) in beaten up old flatback ute screeches over up kerb, driver jumps out stoned out of his gourd, grabs one of the girls starts screaming "What the fuck were you looking at" with lots of racist terms. Big Boy immediately yells "Let her go. Leave her alone." Guy lets go of girl, grabs Big Boy by the shirt starts screaming "I'm going to fucking bash your head, you are dead c*nt". By this time Boy 2 has run off to hide behind building, Boy 1 is telling the guy to let go of his father, Big Boy is telling the guy to let him go or else he won't be responsible for his actions, security guard comes around corner as guy runs off, thumps another car bashing it in as he passes, jumps back in driver side, screeches off. The girl had run off as soon as he let her go. Police were rung but security guard only saw guy run off, we decided not to go any further.
But my darling oldest boy kept his head and got the number plate and make of car! God I love that boy, told him (as he sobbed in my arms - he held it together until he saw Mum), he is just like his Mum, keeps it together when the crisis is happening, falls apart afterwards.
You can imagine how both my children feel, though I told them their Dad is a hero so they should be proud. Boy 1 is now asleep in my bed after a nightmare at 4am (which is why I am awake).

What a day.

But the good did outweigh the bad.

Can't say my life is boring!