The New Normal

Lilo is in the early stages of puberty. You know, the whole breast buds and a tiny amount of downy hair on the private bits and some weight gain in the tummy/hips area thing. This concerns her; doubly so because she has autism and likes shit to be precise. Right now, early pubescence feels weird. It is weird. Other girls are doing it faster/slower than she is. There are NO HARD RULES about timing or order of appearance regarding her bodily changes. Her emotions are all over the place. WTF??

I told her it was all completely normal. That she was normal. That puberty was normal and the whole not-normal thing was normal.

She wanted to know where I had gotten MY medical degree, and demanded to see her pediatrician for a REAL verdict on the normalcy of her body.

So, today I took Lilo to Dr. Turtle, where she was told – almost verbatim – everything I had told her. Only this time she believed it.

In the car she told me that she feels better, but she still thinks puberty sucks. She would like to spin a cocoon, spend some time in a mushy state, and then emerge fully formed into an adult body without all the mood swings and painful proto-boobies.

I have to admit, that makes more sense than the current system.

Posted in Asperger's and Autism Spectrum, daughters, health, life as I know it, motherhood, Too Much Information | 4 Comments

High There Reefer Madness

I tried medical marijuana for the first time last week. I would like to wean myself of Prozac, but need a standby in case of an anxiety attack (those attacks SUCK) and wondered if MJ could be my crutch when needed. However – all joking about taking Xanax aside – I don’t like feeling “too” relaxed. I don’t like feeling “mellow”. It feels weird and unsafe. That’s why I don’t drink and I‘ve never taken drugs (except for valium pre-eye-surgery back in the day and my crazy pills). When I took the tiny wee MJ pill, I was unsure what would happen. Honestly, I was afraid I would be high and would not know it.

How did it go?

Great, actually. The “voices” or persistent buzz in my head of OCD thoughts was not merely dampened … they STFU and left me in peace. The persistent slight panic of PTSD also went to live with Jesus. I was deeply, profoundly chill.

I did spend a lot of time “testing” to see if I was high, though. I worked crossword puzzles and codewords and jigsaw puzzles and did the sobriety tests that cops use on suspected drunk drivers and tongue twisters to determine my level of sobriety. Sweet Babou thought this was hysterical, but as far as I or anyone else could tell I wasn’t loopy and that was the desired result. I still wouldn’t drive with it in my system, though. Just in case. I’d use it in the evening when needed; that’s when 99% of my attacks would happen. The sun would go down, and my anxiety would go up. Fun times.

Next visit with my shrink, Imma ask her to write me a ‘script for the wacky tabaccy analog (a reefer referral?) and start reducing my Prozac. I’ll let y’all know if I start saying “dude” or “man” a lot and eating Cheetos or some shit like that. Also, I’ll watch to make sure my hair doesn’t burst into dreadlocks. I’m given to understand that these are common side effects of marijuana.

Now, excuse me while I go tie-dye my clothes.

Posted in Asperger's and Autism Spectrum, health, I like this, dammit., life as I know it | 5 Comments

Woe Is the Interwebs

My parents live way the hell out in the country. Their internet is delivered via carrier pigeon. On a good day, there is a significant amount of lag time for a page to load, as if you had traveled in time back to 1995 AOL dialup. On a bad day, your computer is a fancy typewriter, sunshine.

I just spent most of a week with my parents and every day was a bad internet day.

I became a little nuts, as can be evinced by the following log of those bleak days:


Day One:   Who cares if my parents live in the Outer Hebrides of Eastern Kentucky and have pitifully slow internet. I need to spend less time on the internet anyway. I have plenty of things to entertain me, and won’t hurt me to take a break from researching and blogging for a day or so. In fact, this is great! I can read fiction for fun and just chill!

Day Two:    Dammit, I am tired of chilling. I am trying to write. I need to double check this fact. It should take me around three seconds to complete the fact-check by searching the web, but NOPE – the pages cannot load because they time out. If I see “server not found” one more time I shall run amok. Maybe I can write without doing research?   *several frustrating hours later*  Fuck it, I am playing Angry Birds instead.

Day Three:   All I want to do is log in to Facebook long enough to explain to my friends why I have disappeared. That’s all. Is that too much to ask? Cannot the carrier pigeons that dribble wifi into my dad’s router make an effort and give me a connection to Facebook for five lousy minutes? People are having lives without me, I just know it. 

Day Four:    What’s happening in the world? Do I still exist? How are my friends doing? Are people emailing me? Is it important? WHAT AM I MISSING?????

Day Five:    Cool. I got all three stars on this level of Angry Birds. I’m sooooo glad mom had her prescription of Xanax handy. If you crush up the pills and mix the residue with salt, they are a great way to rim your frozen margarita glass!

Day Six:    We leave tomorrow. When I reach the blessed land of internet once more, I shall LOG IN TO ALL THE THINGS! I shall search all the pages! I will read all the emails! I will post all the Facebook! I will tweet all the twitter!


It’s good to be back, y’all. 

Posted in are you kidding me with this shit?, Asperger's and Autism Spectrum, life as I know it | 2 Comments

Ah, a NEW Reason

Well, I am at my parents house and have once more been plunged into the land of BabyBro and Taintface’s “logic”. They are still withholding the kids to punish/coerce me, but they have come up with yet another reason (other than the fact that they are vindictive manipulators) to explain it. NOW the reason they claim that I am the bad guy is my “deceit” regarding Gozer’s autism testing.

What deceit? According to them, I was deceitful when I supposedly didn’t tell them Gozer’s testing (which they didn’t pay for) would take three days or more, a few hours at a time. Of course, I did tell them it would take that long, but more importantly it was on the papers they were sent to fill out and which they finally faxed in (after having them for weeks) on the third day of Gozer’s testing. They had to fax them in because – if you remember — while I and my parents were by Gozer’s side during testing, BabyBro and Taintface were having a nice vacation at the beach. Moreover, both of them have admitted they didn’t bother to read the papers in full. This is also my fault, BTW. Why? Because, that’s why.

However, they are graciously willing to forgive me my deceit and whatever else bullshit thing they have come up with if I will just apologize to Taintface for saying she was a bad mom for vacationing instead of being with her child during autism testing. The reality of events — that I only hit her with that because she had called me barking like a junkyard dog and said that I wanted something to be wrong with Gozer because there was something wrong with my kids — has disappeared into the ether.

They say that once I apologize to Taintface, they will let me see the nieces and nephew I love (and who love me) because then it will apparently not matter that I am the devil incarnate. Golly, it is almost as if their excuses for why they are withholding their children from me are merely transparent attempts to disguise the fact they are using their children as pawns in a manipulative blackmail attempt to placate Taintface’s chagrin that she attacked me and my children and I metaphorically rolled up a newspaper and smacked her on the nose to indicate I wasn’t putting up with her temper-tantrums or insults.

Who knew?

They are also complaining that everyone is “on my side”, as though they honestly believe no one on earth can see through their antics and that people are blithely buying their rationales for their attempts to alienate the children from me. They really think no one can see Taintface for the petty little twatwaffle she is, and BabyBro as her loyal and willfully-ignorant dupe.

I really love Gozer and Gamer, so why don’t I just lie and apologize to Taintface? First, because you are never supposed to negotiate with terrorists. They escalate. Secondly, because I have seen this before. My friend Sorcha’s first husband was always threatening to “take away the kids”during their divorce if she didn’t capitulate to his demands. My arguments that he was blowing smoke out of his ass were powerless in the face of her fear of him, since his emotional abuse had convinced her he had more control over circumstances and the legal system than was actually the case. She kept caving in, hoping that THIS TIME he would be satisfied, but he never was. If you give in to the kind of person who will use their children as living weapons all they will do is use the kids to force your compliance more frequently. If I give in to Taintface, she will use her kids again the next time she wants to bully me into tolerating her rotten behavior to me and my daughters. Being used repeatedly as tools to manipulate others would harm Gozer and Gamer and I will not aid and abet harming them.

I am so tired of this shit.

Posted in are you kidding me with this shit?, Asperger's and Autism Spectrum, daughters, irony set on "stun", life as I know it, motherhood | 4 Comments

How A Botched Rape Investigation Got a Toddler Murdered

Have you ever read about the mishandling of a rape case that is so horrific that your brain just cannot process it? Yeah? Now add on a dead toddler and you’ll get the hell that is the rape of Lara McLeod and the death of her nephew, Prince.

“Lara McLeod never wanted to report her rape. In those first few hours, the 19-year-old was barely able to put what had happened to her into words. Joaquin Rams, Lara’s older sister’s fiancé, had forced Lara to have sex with him, she said — just two weeks after Lara’s sister, Hera, had given birth to Joaquin’s baby … but she broke down and told her parents the next day … later that evening, she got a call from a police officer in Prince William County, Virginia, the suburb of Washington, D.C., where Joaquin and Hera lived. He wanted to know whether what Lara had told her parents was true. When Lara said it was, the officer told her that she needed to come to the station immediately for a formal interview. After a cursory investigation of the claim they compelled her to file, the police abruptly concluded Lara was lying about being raped and arrested her. Hera was charged with obstructing justice for aiding Lara’s alleged deceit, and had to spend her savings on legal fees to get them dismissed. Lara’s charges were eventually expunged, but not before her reputation was destroyed … 

…  Even worse, the authorities were spreading false information. Assistant DA Claiborne Richardson, who had signed off on the charges against both sisters, wrote in a January 2012 email to the mother of Joaquin’s ex-girlfriend, obtained by BuzzFeed News, that Lara had pleaded guilty and had “already received a partial sentence,” both of which were untrue. He said that Hera had “gained access to a crime scene under false pretenses and removed evidence” that “determined that the allegations of rape brought by Ms. McLeod’s sister were untrue,” and wrote that the sisters’ efforts “to manipulate this office and to ignore their actions will not occur.” (Richardson did not respond to requests for comment.) In reality, the charges against Hera were dismissed in May 2012 in about an hour and a half, with the judge calling Joaquin’s testimony “incredible.” But it cost Hera $50,000 in legal fees …

In the ensuing battle for custody over Prince, Hera and Joaquin’s infant son, it emerged that not only had Joaquin lied about his name, employment history, and age — he was a decade older than he had claimed — but he had also once been a suspect in his ex-girlfriend’s shooting death and a person of interest in his mother’s death, too, although he was never successfully charged in either case. He had been accused of child abuse by his other son, although never convicted, and ran an amateur porn site.

But thanks to the charges against Hera and Lara, Joaquin was able to portray himself as a comparatively fit parent — and the victim of a smear job. The judge granted Joaquin unsupervised visits. Three months later, EMTs found Prince unconscious on the floor of Joaquin’s house. The 15-month-old died the next day. Months later, Joaquin was charged with capital murder …”

The two police detectives that screwed up the investigation and got a toddler murdered were Bradford Cavender and Kimberly Norton. Since then, other members of the Prince William police force have been trying to act like it Cavender and Norton may not have done a great job, but they didn’t do anything wrong.

“Police Chief Steve Hudson … said the police report was “sloppy” and he thought some aspects of the investigation had been “shortcutted.” “I think fatigue played a part in this,” he said, “and not a good part.” Hudson admitted that the detectives had “reached a conclusion and didn’t pursue it further” and that, “in hindsight,” he would “prefer that the charges not have been made.” … But he said there was nothing “technically improper” with the charges brought against Hera and Lara, as it was the detectives’ “judgment call.” And, he said, even if the police hadn’t charged them, Joaquin still wouldn’t have been arrested for rape … Detective Samuel Walker said it’s standard protocol to arrest people for falsely reporting rape because the department tries “to deter false allegations,” but “only if they can determine that the person is at fault.” …

… every year on Prince’s birthday, [Hera McLeod] sends a letter to the authorities who she holds just as responsible for his death. This year, she included a photo of Prince with his two front teeth in, smiling and sitting on a red truck — with his birth and death dates printed above. “On July 1st, 2015, I would have turned four,” the card said. “May you always remember how the decisions you make impact the lives of innocent people. I will never forget you. I pray you will never forget about me.” This year, Kimberly Norton, one of the two officers who charged the McLeod sisters, put the card in a new envelope and mailed it back to Hera unopened. She rewrote her return address in block letters. Not Detective Norton, as Hera had written, but “SGT K. NORTON.” She had been promoted. So had Detective Cavender.

The callous fuckery of that act astounds me, cynic though I am. Both Cavender and Norton are shitty police officers and even shittier human beings, but the returned envelope lowers Sargent K. Norton down to the level of cuntmonkey. They and the DA Claiborne Richardson are rancid piles of hyena pus and I hope they are punish such egregious wrongdoing, but they’ll probably get away with the fact they were accessories to the murder of a 15 month old baby. They certainly don’t give the furry crack of a rat’s ass that they did anything wrong, so there is no remorse keeping them up at night.

If you want to contact Prince William County Police Department and let them know what you think of the heinous anus boils sergeants  Bradford Cavender and Kimberly Norton are. you can go here:

Not that it will bring Hera McLeod’s baby boy back from the dead.

Posted in are you kidding me with this shit?, rape culture, shit I think y'all should know, victim blaming | 4 Comments

Ah, That’s My Stitch

Stitch likes computer games and to play on the X-box. She’s good at them, too. Recently, she got a hold of her first The Sims game and was frolicking amongst her electronic people last night. I thought I would take a moment to tell her about the theory called the holographic principle which postulates that WE are all on a big ol’ holodeck, and aren’t really that different from The Sims. Would there be an ethical conundrum in playing The Sims, if the electronic people were shown to have a consciousness? What if they could FEEL it if you messed them about?

Stitch’s reply: Chill, Mom. I am a benevolent god.

Good to know, Stitch. Good to know.

Posted in daughters, I like this, dammit., life as I know it, motherhood | 4 Comments

Hello Foxy Lady

As anyone who sees my stuff on Facebook knows, Stitch told Spock what happens to animals left “too” long at the animal shelter and Spock lost her tiny mind with sadness. For days I was bombarded with WHY .. WHY do they have to put the animals to sleep? WHY don’t they build more shelters? WHY isn’t there more money for shelters? WHY is the world unfair? WHY? WHY? WHY?

All of the questions were asked while she looked at me with her huge eyes the color of strongly brewed tea while tears streamed down her little face and her perfect little cupid-bow lips trembled.

So we’ve got another dog.

We went to the animal shelter and adopted this little girl:


Spock named her Foxy. I think Foxy Fokker is a good name, myself. When Foxy was brought to the visitation room, Spock embraced her and whispered “You will be my doggie and nothing will be able to hurt you”. Yes, I blubbed.

She was listed as a chihuahua/terrier mix but I suspect she is a pure-bred long haired chihuahua that was used as a puppy-mill mama and then dumped in the street to die by some utter bastards.  She was a stray long enough that she is seriously underweight and lost most of the hair on her back to mange, but with love and hugs and food she’ll be a beauty again in no time.

When Sweet Babou took her picture she leaped up to see if perhaps he would like to pet her. OF COURSE he petted her.


She has obviously never been anyone’s beloved pet; when we took her for a walk she had clearly never been on a leash before. However, she is very sweet and very loving and a very fast learner. She is getting along really well with our other wee doggies, although Jack sulked a little because the girls were playing with her more than him for the first few hours. I fixed that problem by merely saying “poor Jack feels unloved” and the wee Fokkers began to lavish him with affection, so he’s good now.

I can hear Sweet Babou talking baby-talk to her in the kitchen as I type, explaining the coffee is not for her.

Welcome home, Foxy.

Posted in daughters, I like this, dammit., life as I know it, motherhood | 12 Comments