Run for the hills , it’s Fidget in an audio file! ACCCCCK!

… Or conversely you can click on the player

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You know they are there… lurking. They have you saved to favorites, and drink in your every word. They comb through your archives, searching for vulnerability. One day you are zinging along without a care in the world, when BAM! Like a turd in a punch bowl a revolting comment or email floats to the surface. Some folks say that you haven’t arrived until you’ve attracted a troll or two or three. I think that’s true. Here at Finding Yourself, trolls have felt compelled to comment bomb and to hate email and while momentarily wounded I have decided to take it in stride. From now on I think those who have been at the receiving end of trolling should have a party. We should all celebrate their popularity and ability to incite ire in people. Today we are throwing a party for Robyn over at Me and My Groupies. Some pathetic waste of space moron has decided to become the Fart Police. In her trolls honor, we created a movie. Hop on over to her site and check it out. If you could leave her an encouraging comment, I’d appreciate it!

And just in case Tooty McFart Troll is hanging around here’s some stuff I know you’ll appreciate:

Because poop is funny stinky and everywhere. Because everyone farts sometimes

ps I had originally intended this to be a tirade about pathetic asswipes who have nothing better to do than sit at home spouting rotten garbage all over the internet. Once I had typed everything about how sad and lonely their lives must be, about how they must walk around everyday choking on their bitter pill of a life I realized I was in effect trolling myself. Creating this misery and spreading it like an STD on a college campus. That’s why I am choosing to celebrate Robyn’s new found status in the blog world. Robyn, someone just handed you some power, enjoy it!

For many years I fought against the nerd image. Raged, if you will. Between gifted classes and 3 art periods a day there wasn’t much reprieve from the nerdom. When I hit college and no one knew I was suddenly HOT. Guys pursued me instead of talking about what a weirdo I was. Gals cozied up to me to get closer to my adoring male population. I took on this new role in a balls to the wall kind of way, pushing the envelope daily, drinking in my new life. Damn it was tiring. But like so many things it was fleeting, mostly because it was unsatisfying. My inner nerd yearned to break out, to dance Broadway style through the streets.

Now faced with the blogging world it is clear to me that I am not nearly nerdy enough. I have little to no comprehension of HTML, coding, hosting, blah blah blah. All things that would come in handy right about now. Blogger sucks, I’d love to have my own address but feel little confidence in my ability to upkeep it. Maybe one day in the future when my brain settles down and wants to learn again I can take a class or 5 and learn how to do this properly.

I need your HELP!! You can win a VIDEO IPOD just by helping me out! Click on my link, vote 5 diamonds and register to win an Ipod! They will send a verification link to your email, click it to confirm your vote and registration into the Video Ipod contest. With your help I hope to collect the top prize o $10,000 to help my family! CLICK HERE TO VOTE AND POSSIBLY WIN A VIDEO IPOD! A big HUGE Thank you to those who have already voted and supported me!! Taking cue from the KING OF HNT I created my own movie CLICK HERE for a Fidget original movie.

Happy Half Nekkid Thursday, now talk nerdy to me in the comments!

*ps this photo was taken in high school. I was an art and drama nerd so of course I had to dress up for Halloween. It’s disturbing how natural it looks.

Is the anything better then a sincere compliment from your child? Last night I sat perched on the edge of the tub with Tessa’s pudgy foot in one hand. She sat, transfixed, watching me trim each toe nail. I took extra care to massage her little feet and marvel over her toes and she looked at me with love shining in her eyes. Then she stared…….. her staring turned to gawking and I started wondering if I had a 2 foot booger hanging out of my nose…
“Tessie, what are you looking at?” I asked anxiously. The last time I had asked one of my children this question Mira responded by stroking my chin and saying “Nice beard, Mama”….

“(Deep sigh)You have beautiful eyes Mama”

My heart brimmed with joy. So I ask you, is there anything better? I mean, this at least ranks up there with government subsidized sex changes.

You’ll have to pardon me if I am a bit spotty or lax in my typical visitation rounds, I am preparing for a house guest. He’s one of THOSE.. You know, like an unwanted inlaw or ungrateful second cousin thrice removed. The type who leaves shaving stubble in the sink or neglects to flush the toilet. One who guzzles your last precious drop of juice straight from the jug, belches and then scratches his ass with your grilling tongs.

I’ve never met Alberto, I’d rather not. After spend hurricane season 04 showering in the yard and eating Chef Boyardee I’ll happily pass on any Alberto, Humberto, Youberto or Meberto. The current path takes it just to the north but we are already getting some strong squalls with tornado action. After cowering in the bathroom I ventured out mid-squall to retrieve Mira from school. The damn thing hasn’t even made hurricane status OR LANDFALL but we are already experiencing tree fall

We also are already having localized flooding

Why, yes, that is my back door leaking and oh, yes, yes that IS unhung drywall getting wet! Well, I’m off to staple plastic around my doors and windows in a vain attempt to stem the flood waters. Keep your fellow Bloggers who are more directly impacted by the storm in mind. If we are already having such trouble Izzy must be having quite a time.

PS head over to my arts and crafts blog Mama Makes Stuff to see our latest featured mega cool Mama

and PPS If you haven’t voted for me yet and are interested in not only helping me out but maybe winning a video Ipod for yourself Please go HERE choose 5 jewels and register. They will send you a verification link in your email to click. Once you have verified your email address you are entered to win the Video Ipod and your vote has been counted (if you verify more than 1 hour after your vote, you may need to select 5 jewels again to complete your registration). With all my great readers I am really hoping to shoot to the top. I’ve been bouncing around between 4th place and 260, at this exact moment I’m in 26 place. Help me crawl out off this hole and take the top prize!

What kind of sadistic bagger packs juice boxes and tomatoes in the SAME BAG??

Click Here, You Can Win A Video Ipod Just For Voting! Please Vote 5 jewels and register! Confirm your registration and you’re entered to win!

*After yesterday’s stomach churning nasty-gram, I’m looking to be a little more upbeat. When I’m down in the dumps and need to bounce back, rather than wallow, I put on some good motivating music. All I need is a good beat and I can shake my way out of most funks. Music is an essential element in our home. I find that I am not the only one who benefits from it and have mastered the art of song modification in an effort to create a more cooperative atmosphere. Around my house we have songs for EVERYTHING. Right now we have 2 popular potty songs in circulation, hoping to nudge Tessa into a more potty frame of mind. Several times a day I’ll place Tessa on the throne and begin a rousing round of a blatant “Wheels on the bus” rip off. It goes like this:

The big girls in the house go pee pee pee pee pee pee pee pee pee the big girls in the house go pee pee pee oooon the pooot -ty.

She claps, she sings, sometimes she pees.

My main concern is getting her to drop her baby H bombs into the toilet. AT 2 1/2, diapers have become woefully inadequate at containing Mt Saint Buttus. Everyday is a disgusting new way for it to seep, creep, or simply explode out of her diaper. Yesterday as she bent over it visibly rocketed out of the back of her diaper, up into the air and became enmeshed in her lovely long hair. This of course was 5.2 minutes before we absolutely had to leave to pick up big sissy from school…. We ended up being nearly 10 minutes late! My poop song apparently just isn’t cutting it. Singing “poop, poop, poop” over and over to the tune of jingle bells isn’t nearly as inspiring. I persist with it though, having no other clever alternative. Perhaps one of you has a better ditty that might be a little more potty inspiring?

~*~*~**~**~ Today I received a rather nasty Email, I can only imagine that it is in reference to the below post. It came from a now defunct Email address that was just a jumbled bunch of numbers. I have since deleted it, not wanting to feel it stab my heart over and over again. It read in part

“you must have done illegals drugs, drank or have been a bad person for your daughter to come out with a disease. God is punishing you and now your evil ways has affected her life. Autism doesn’t just happen”

I hope you are as angery and incensed as I am. Who has the time to spend setting up an email account and dash off a rambling email filled with such hate? Who’s life is SO PATHETIC that they have nothing else to do? And who is so COWARDLY to do this anonymously. Opinions are like ass holes, everyone has one. It’s obvious to me that you KNOW yours is WRONG when feel the need to hide your identity. I hope when your time comes to square yourself with your God, HE/SHE will give you a swift kick in the Karma and send you the fiery way or perhaps reincarnate you as some type of butt worm.

~*~*~*~**~*~*~

Recently I made an appeal for information regarding Mira’s condition on a mental health board I belong to. At one point I stated:

the doctors told me point blank that she is high functioning enough that with the right intervention will seem normal. She will always have some struggles that other people don’t deal with but she should function independently in the world just fine - the best news the parent of an autistic child can hope for

Someone then asked me to clarify what I meant by “the best news a parent of an autistic child can hope for.” I sat staring at the screen with hundreds of words fighting to burst out at once. My mind raced with images of my childhood and projected images of what Mira’s may be like. I mentally watched her grow, wincing as I felt the weight of the world on her. I took a deep breath and began typing my reply:

The best news that a parent of an ASD child can hear (in regards specifically to their diagnosis) is that their child has the highest probability of function on this earth independently.

This means that in all probability she can make it through what ever schooling she decides to take on

This means that she can one day live on her own, pay her own bills, control her own life

This means that as I age I will not have to constantly worry who will take care of her when I am gone

This means the world to me

As a parent, any diagnosis that has the potential to make your child’s life more difficult is devastating (even if only temporarily). Your heart aches for the future they will mostly likely face, you know it will no longer be easy because it is apparent that they are different. Not different in a way that they have decided to be, but different in a way they must be to cope. That kind of different is like standing in a room with roman candles shooting out of your head. I know what it is like to be that kind of different, I have had bipolar tendencies for as long as I can remember (as well as OCD and GAD). I share many traits with my daughter, enough that some doctors have wondered if I might have been diagnosed as PDD-NOS had someone evaluated me at 4 or 5 or 6. I found a way to cope and function in this world. It was a hard rough ride, one I rather my daughter not transverse. I hate to say it but the punishing verbal abuse I suffered at home helped me to cope with the abuse I suffered at the hands of my peers. My daughter will never have that “benefit”.

It left me feeling ragged, raw, and ripped open. There it was, spelled out. I face my fear now in black and white but I will face it every day, in living color, as I wave from the door and she steps out into the world.

I know that many of you are dealing with similar issues, perhaps you child is not autistic but spirited or high needs. The best book I have ever read, one that helped me to cope and better understand the situation is Raising Your Spirited Child I read the book when Mira was around 18 months old, just before Tessa was born. It clarified many feelings I had but could not put into words. It helped me to analyze myself and put myself in Mira’s tiny shoes. Most importantly it reminded me that I was not alone in this fight and that motherhood isn’t always sunshine and roses, sometimes it’s screaming over the way a sock touches your toes. This is one to own and never lend out. On those really bad days you grab it up and let those dog eared pages slide over your brain like a soothing balm.

Currently at the insistence of my therapist I am reading and applying the principles laid out in I Love You Rituals . I am using them with Mira and Tessa. Today I made a concerted effort when picking Mira up from school. Instead of buckling her in and driving off, I took a minute to sing a silly song, do the hand movements and invite eye contact. It was the first peaceful ride home from school in ages. I am very excited to further delve into what this book has to offer me and my children.

Does anyone else have recommendations for books about spirited, high needs, or autistic children? I am open to all suggestions and will be heading to the library soon.

and for those who haven’t been around recently check THIS out (or simply scroll down for gratuitous booty / booby pictures) and please help if you can!