On the Michael Savage Controversy

Most of us know what Michael Savage said about autism a few days ago. I am not going to recap. I am also not going to blog my reaction to it, because it is, predictably unfavorable. But men like Savage expect an unfavorable reaction. Press, good or bad, is what drives ratings. So, I would like to encourage you:

Don't Feed the Trolls. Even the highly-paid, syndicated radio ones.

Do you remember back in the day when posters would pop into chat rooms or BBS systems, say the most inane things and try to start a fight? Remember what we used to say? Don't feed the trolls. If they don't eat, they leave. Given no one who will rise to their bait, they have to go elsewhwere.

It's the same with Michael Savage. What he said was savage. And he will say worse, he always does. But don't fight him.

Instead, target his advertisers. Get him off the air. Without his radio platform, he will just be another loudmouth shooting his mouth off about what he doesn't understand. But, then, so is a quarter of America. The difference is, they don't have a forum in which to do it.

So I say again. Don't talk about it. Don't blog it, just act. Boycott the advertisers and get rid of this man once and for all.

This list came from here, so make sure go and give him love for compiling this.

A list of current advertisers and their websites

Digital Media Inc., U.S.A.: http://dmiusa.com/ Nevada State Corporate Network, Inc.: http://www.nscn.com/ Roger Schlesinger, the Mortgage Minute Guy: http://mortgageminuteguy.com/ Townhall.com: http://www.townhall.com/ Effectur: http://www.effectur.com/landing.aspx?id=436&gclid=COv8oen-ypQCFQ4RnQodqE95rA Geico: http://www.geico.com/ Home Depot: http://www.homedepot.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/ContentView?pn=Contact_Us&langId=-1&storeId=10051&catalogId=10053 Wachovia: http://www.wachovia.com/ Gold Bond: http://www.goldbond.com/ FreshStart America: http://www.freshstartamerica.com/ Heritage Foundation: http://www.heritage.org/ Breakpoint: [Link removed; see "Breakpoint Responds Re: Michael Savage] Debt Consultants of America (snail mail and phone number listings): http://www.dallas.com/debt-consultants-of-america-incorporated-b23046351 DirectBuy: http://www.directbuy.com/ [See "Directbuy.com Responds Re: Michael Savage"] WebEx: http://www.webex.com/

T, who says, house elves are ok to feed

T. is a writer, wife and mother of three children, two who have high-functioning autism. She advocates for autism awareness and education, as well as acceptance. She views autism as a growth process and the opportunity to connect parents for support as a privilege. She is the Special Needs Editor at typeamom and her own site, Send Chocolate reflects her passion for her children and autism.

Stupid test scores

Warning! Major Vent! So Dino Boy just finished first grade. He had to take a test. The NJ Pass...I hate tests. Well, I don't hate tests, I liked school. I loved college and learning and tests- well, cause I was pretty good at telling the teacher what they wanted to hear- I got A's and even became a teacher. But now, I hate tests. I remember, vaguely, the week that Dino Boy had to take this test. He was nervous, scared even. But then they decided not to give him the test with the class. He got to take it on random days with the school counselor. He was still nervous of course but he didn't know when he was gonna take the test so he couldn't panic ahead of time. I thought this would help him. I didn't focus on the test. Just try, hell, just try to sit. That is all I care about. Please Dino Boy be happy, don't panic, mommy doesn't care what the test says, I know you are brilliant and no one in the world knows more about dinosaurs than you, just, please, BREATHE. And that is what I am telling myself now. Breathe. I am used to high test scores. I got them. My ADHD brother who flunked out of every class still ACED every standardized test that was put in front of him and to be frank he (Uncle Frog) is the smartest person I know. So Dino Boys scores? He did better in math than language arts. I knew that. He hates to read. He can't scan, his sight words are just gone, I try to review and get him to read but making him sit at the table is more than half the battle. ( We are working on this and hope exists) But still on the NJ pass overall scale of 1,2,3, he got a 1 Basic. Minimal skills... some areas better than others but none were really, well, passing. Language arts. worse. Basic again, but this times in ways that I really don't get. I mean, he can recite a story to me tell me details days later. But he couldn't recite for a test? Was is that boring? Could he not fill in the bubble? He loves to be read to, he may not sit for it but it all gets in there....what happened? I don't know whether to cry or throw the f*c>ing test out the f*c>ing window or say that Its ok, this was pre IEP, pre summer occupational therapy, pre my Asperger's book binge, pre internet support group. Next year he will have the same teacher(not yet sure if that is good or not) , an aide, speech, in school OT, maybe out of school OT too. Should I care? Does school just want to make you bang your head against a wall--hard? Thanks for Listening- Eile The rest of this rant continues on my blog. It goes more into fears that I am not yet sure that you all want to hear. So feel free to read the more rambling uncensored version over there. Going Down Laughing

Autism, Clay, and a Crap-Load of Metaphor on Parenting

I've noticed a lot of bloggers lately have been writing odes to their children as it seems that many of them have summer birthdays. Their words have been very sweet and have really spoken to me. In a world in which so many children are unwanted, abused and neglected it's always nice to see that there are many that are not only loved, but genuinely cherished. But I have to be honest....reading such pieces is always a little bittersweet for me. I can't help but notice and think about what they have and what I don't. I try not to dwell too much on what my child can't do and what his autism takes from him, but sometimes to avoid those things is to live in true denial. I have been in the position many times to speak to parents of children recently diagnosed with autism. I have also been in the position to offer support and counsel to parents who have coped with the disorder for some time. I am really in no way qualified to do either, but something about my listening skills and a background in the human services has lead me to these jobs. In those situations, many a person has heard me use the old "children are like clay" story. Go with me here.... When a new baby is born, he is a lump of clean and perfect, unused clay. As the potter or parent, you can turn that lovely clay into whatever you so choose. It could become something as lovely as a glazed vase or something as dirty and unremarkable as an ash tray. As parent/potter YOU will choose how to fashion this priceless clay. When you have a child with a disability, you also get clay. It often even looks as good as "typical" or "normal" clay. But when you start shaping it, you realize as its parent/potter that it's not so easy to spin. It requires much more work and a much more delicate hand. You will become frustrated with the clay and sometimes even get mad that you can't work it as well as the other potters. You will even wonder sometimes if your clay can be fashioned into a vase or an ash tray or will simply remain.....clay. You will walk out of your studio and see the other potters. They are all either thrilled with or disappointed by their clay.....it really all depends on the day. Sometimes they will get mad at their clay when it's really them that aren't treating it and spinning it right. And sometimes they will get annoyed when their clay does something really silly like falling off the wheel. They'll berate the clay and make a huge deal out of a simple accident that can be easily remedied. And what of us potters of the "other" clay? The clay that won't spin? Won't seal? Won't slip? Has dents, pocks, discoloration, pockets, etc? What do we do with our non-performing clay? Well, we'll get mad at it. Cry over it. Keep spinning it. Keep telling it we know it can. Lose patience with it. Let another more experienced potter give it a try. Cry again. Have I beaten this clay metaphor to death? I used to like to spin.....sue me. My dedicated readers know that I don't talk a lot about Little Boy's autism. And I also don't try to use this blog for complaining, ranting or bellyaching. But I just had to use this chance to say something to all of you "normal" potters out there: take this clay you were given, and dammit, spin it right! You will never know how blessed/lucky/fortunate you were to have been given it. And when you see us other potters out there.....the ones with the "challenged" clay. Don't give us your sympathy. And don't give us your criticisms of advice. Just look at us and know that we're potters too. And like you, we're just trying to make a masterpiece. I am The Chick.....I'm a SAHM living Down South where I write about my life.....marriage, friends, music, activism, fads, oh.....and the life of a mom with a 6 year-old boy with autism. Stop by my farm for more!

I Love You

Having an "Aspie" means that you come to know certain things. You learn quickly that they use the same phrases repetitively. It is part of that whole routine thing that helps to soothe them. I think it also is part of what some experts refer to as "scripted speech" - meaning that they hear this and then use it because they think that is how you are always supposed to talk. 

My Bacon uses "scripted speech" a LOT. Things are DEELICIOUS, and he always has a GREAT IDEA. Often THAT'S NOT SAFE, or NOT A GREAT IDEA. His newest (and my favorite) is What I was probably thinking is.... 

He does say "I love you" but only after you have told him that first. He gives hugs and kisses and "Eskimo kisses" (which he calls snuggles) at free will. He will gladly tell you that he misses you or missed you when you were gone. He is vibrant and wonderful with language, but still never just says "I love you momma."

I am okay with that. He is still little, and it is a hard concept to learn and grasp and get. Maybe he will never be the first to say it. That will be okay. As long as I always tell him, and he knows long after I am gone that he was my sun, moon, stars and everything and I loved him with every fiber of my body and soul. 

Then before he left to go to Crazy Aunt Ethel's on Monday he ran inside to give me a hug and a kiss, he threw his arms around my neck and whispered in my ear "I love you momma. I love you more than the sun and the moon and the stars." 

I cried when he left. Not because I was sad, but because finally my little man said the words that I thought that he would never say first, that he loves me. 

*My name is  Mrs. Tantrum. I am a 31 year old mom to a 4 year old son who was recently diagnosed with Asperger's. I blog almost every day at Momma's Tantrum about our life with Asperger's, Coffee, the crazy antics here, and more. I do have a fierce potty mouth so if you are easily offended, just cover your eyes and hum loudly!*

Camp Struggles

My eldest son is 7. He was diagnosed with Asperger's just last December, just on the cusp of his 7th birthday. We had known something was up for years but couldn't put our finger on what it was or how to cope. We bought books about ADD, ADHD, OCD, graphomotor dysfunction, even Autism and Asperger's but we didn't KNOW until we traveled 3 hours to a specialist, not covered by any insurances, who charged $500 to actually sit with our son and figure it all out. --and then a second $500 to help us figure out what to do with the information. But he was worth every penny. It was a relief to know the name of this thing that controlled our lives. The thing that had become so big that a question like "What accommodations do you make for your son?" had become unanswerable because...didn't everyone live like this? Joey got thrown out of no less than 3 preschools. He was "removed" from the private kindergarten that was supposed to be "WONDERFUL" after only 3 days. He was a "disruption" because he told the teacher that the year 2006 shouldn't have smiley faces in the zeros and then insisted that she remove them. He wouldn't stand on the 7 on the carpet because he was NOT 7 years old. And he loved to turn the air conditioner on and off because he loved to control the movement of the air. Taking him out of that school was that start of a great change in his life. Two willing teachers and an IEP later, my Dino Boy is doing fairly well in an inclusion classroom. I just wish that everyone could see the brilliance that exists in between random acts of eating things that are not food and his stimming habit of bouncing round the room stretching his fingers in all directions. So this was about Camp right? Dino boy and Little Man (see my other blog for that story) go to a wonderful YMCA camp. Little man loves it and Dino Boy went there for part of the summer last year too. So I was very surprised when after ONE WEEK they called me. "Ummm, Ms. Eile, We would just you to know that we are giving you warning that Dino Boy may not be able to stay at camp this summer." Now what? I,single working mother am...screwed. But we talked. Camp talked to me, I talked to ex husband. We spent the weekend talking to Dino Boy about staying with the group, not eating things that are not food, asking for help, telling people that you are frustrated instead of running into the woods, and Dino Boy got it. He really really did. And according to camp he does great, until about the time when there is 2 hours left in camp. He can't hold it in any longer. He struggles so hard to keep it together that on some days those last 2 hours cause him to overload.... And I don't know what to do about it. I KNOW KNOW KNOW that he is doing the best he can, He loves the camp SO much. We had parents night tonight and he just gushed about every activity. But I wish I could just give him a break. A place where he can lose it and still be ok, a place where he can run and play and plan his Jurassic Camp movie and just be loved. So next year...maybe I can find a special camp just for him and people like him...but is that the right choice? or should I just immerse him in "normal" teach him to swim like all the other fish? I don't have something catchy to end with...just an open question I guess. When you have a high function kid, what do you do? Should I constantly challenge him to move up or let him just coast during the summers? He gets so stressed. I just feel that its not fair but when he grows up he is going to need to deal with the outside world. Do I teach him to do that now...or wait just a bit?

Every Picture Tells a Story

The Hubby, Scamp and Spiff. My fellas.

This photo is one of many hundreds of photos taken over the course of a family trip. Can you spot which one of my children is Autistic? To an untrained eye, it is rather hard to tell. Both of my boys can be rather well behaved in public places, but then there are those times; the ones where Spiff starts flapping his arms or waving his bracelet around. These moments usually happen in more crowded spaces. Not long after this photo was taken, we boarded a Green Line T train in Boston full of people and he began to flap his hands wildly to calm himself in that situation. While it attracted many stares and puzzled looks, it helped him relax. It's incredibly important for him to be comfortable in any situation, and he has learned how to calm himself in just about any kind. It's been a long road, and we're still on it.

The other day I was going through our family photos as I was transferring them from one computer to another. As I glanced at photo after photo of my kids, I noticed there were so many of my son in a group or family photo where he doesn't look at the camera, or is sitting just a touch away from the rest of us. Or both in the same photo. There were more than I realized. We chalk it up to one of his many quirks, and we are fine with this one and all the others. Other people might look at these photos or us when we take the photos and think he is being rude; but he is not. He might look uncomfortable and like he doesn't want to be a part of the "moment", but deep down inside he does. He really does.

He's just being him. Beautiful, beautiful Spiff.

8:30pm

I know I titled this post 8:30 pm, but the story really starts around 6:30pm--every night. That is the time when I, single mommy extraordinare, starts the bedtime routine for my 4 year old and 7 year old boys. First, I announce that this is the LAST tv show of the night. Dinner is over, dessert has been eaten and we need to agree to the last show. Sounds easy right? Sometimes its blissful. Little Brother says "I want to watch (insert Backyardigans, Sponge Bob or Crashbox here) and Big Brother happily agrees...other nights, not so much. Fighting ensues mom breaks up said fighting through compromise, computer, distraction... or insert bad parenting decision here. Step two, 7pm - Bath time. Frankly, to be honest, I LOVE bath time. No TV. I have the kids hostage. They tell me about their day, we laugh, make jokes. Its great. EXCEPT when they are fighting about the water temperature, or who gets to sit by the water, or which one gets their hair washed first. I used to pick which child went through the water torture first, but they hated that. I decided to that I would let fate control this choice, so I started playing the number game "Pick a number between 1 and 10" and whoever was closest would get to pick if they were first or second. But I found that I would cheat! I would think of the number after they had guessed in an attempt to alternate children....this failed miserably. So tonight my wonderful, thoughtful older son, Big Brother (BB) just offered to go first! Mommy loves him so much, sometimes he is so giving and rational and well, just wonderful. Then story time- 7:30. Story time can also be wonderful. My boys are great. They think outside of the box. Today we read a Little Critter book about going to the museum and then they proceeded to design their museum, for your information the Planetarium will be upstairs...their is no other option according to BB. Then we sing songs- they make me dance and they improvise sounds in between the verses. 8pm Hugs, Kisses, Goodnight....or NOT Post bedtime activities BB- "Mother don't you know I stay up for HOURS!" and he is right, he does stay up for hours. First, with LB still awake, we go potty (again) get water (again) The scariest words I get to hear from BB- "Mother, You don't need to tuck me back in. I can do it myself" uh-oh TROUBLE So I check upstairs...and this is literally 3 minutes since I left the room. BB "Look, we are building a temple" and he is, complete with buildings, dinosaurs, dragons and other toys that have resided in the toy closet, untouched, for months. "Please don't take it down....Your not mad are you?" "No, not mad, just go to bed" Minutes go by, I hear doors creaking, cabinet doors slamming, I go back upstairs...BB says to LB "See, you made mother come back up" oh yeah, I have to mention this here. Where did this mother thing come from? I was Mom or mommy up until a few weeks ago- then Mother, Mother, Mother. I asked why and BB said- "Your my mother" Logical yes, but I wish I still got to be mommy. So where are we now...8:33 and things are quite...maybe.. Last night when I took out the garbage and 10pm I came back in to find a screaming BB asking where I had gone...so how long does he stay up? "Mother don't you know I stay up for HOURS!" So I am Eile, I have just started blogging here and at my new blog Going Down Laughing. I am a single mom with two boys, a 7 year old Aspie and a 4 year old child that thinks he knows everything. We laugh a lot in my house, and I hope that my writing gets funnier with time.