Tag Archives: Facebook

Question?: Asperger Syndrome In Adults

Laura asks…

Which social networking site is right for me?

My profile will be public as the theme will be about my life with Asperger Syndrome. I will want to share my You Tube videos and blog as well as share photos. It will basically be an activism account. The audience will be adults w/autism/Asperger‘s.

admin answers:

I guess myspace. Facebook is kind of too private for that ,but you could always create a facebook group…

Good Luck!

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Question?: Autism Symptoms In 6 Year Old

Mark asks…

Can psychotic bipolar develop into schizoaffective?

If you already have bipolar 1 with psychosis and it’s getting worse, can it develop into schizoaffective later on?

admin answers:

This is where it can get confusing. In order to be diagnosed as schizo-affective, your psychosis must last 6 months or longer. There is a different than just being Bipolar I and becoming psychotic when you’re manic as that does happen but it’s usually short lived. True psychosis can last for hours up until months or years. Every person is different. It can develop and usually it does but that’s usually with children with early onset because the older they get, the worse the psychosis gets.

Please feel free to check out my website below. It has a forum board, a blog about the journey I take with my 5 year old son who is diagnosed as Bipolar I with psychotic features and autism, symptoms list, and resources. Or you can just follow us on FB: www.facebook.com/lwamikids

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Question?: Autism Symptoms Toddler Boys

Chris asks…

Does my daughter have autism symptoms?

My 15 year old daughter has sensory processing disorder and she is alittle bipolar but just a little it isnt srious but we dont want it to get to that point since mmy husband has it . She gets very stressed easily and she doesnt lke standing in lines so people don have ther shoulders touching her and she is very sensitive to dirty hands and shes always walked on her toes since she was born. she was also diagnosed wth lyme disease as a toddler and we got that taken care of. but she also put her bottom jas over her top one and pushes down then makes a moaning cry for a moment and she sayd it reales stress. and every now and then she makes those noises wthout realizing it. she also crys about anything and cant have certain textures in food and doesnt like anyone breathing on or near her . she also gets frusrtrated when trying to work even if shes doing great . she is amazing at art she paints pictures like you wouldnt believe and she sings wonderful but when someone complments her, it isnt enough then shel have a tantrum. her self asteem s extremely low and she has been bullyed and tortured since kindergarten . she is absolutley gorgeous an hour glass figure and boys can be all over her but girls call her whore slut and completley trash her facebook and shes deleted it several times but i know she has depression and the school never does anything. i just want to know if she has autism symptoms mixed wth her sensory and bipolar and maybe this s making her stress levels high and causing problems for her . she also fails school and can never sit still shes always ditching class and her grades are all under 50 so i took her put of school for awhile to pick herself up. i took her out of one state because she was tortured and moved and she is really stressed out about the moved to and im just trying to look out for her.

admin answers:

It sounds like she really needs to get a comprehensive evaluation done by a competent person. That would give you ‘both’ peace of mind and help you get to the best way to find healing .
This guy tests for all kinds of things and is seen on PBS tv at times talking about the brain and health.
Amenclinics.com he tests for hormones, vitamins, minerals, even has SPECT scans and
is a neuropsychiatrist.
It would save you money in the long run to have it all done at once .
It sounds like she has several issues and yes it could be a degree of autism, but no one can diagnose over the internet, it has to be face to face with a trained professional.
Here is a good site for healing autism , questions, etc generationrescue.org.
Here is an effective method to help heal her past abuse and childhood feelings eftmasters.com
best wishes

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all good

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~ Diary’s Facebook status, Saturday afternoon

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It started with this ..

Mama said no.

Which might have come out sounding a little bit like “Over my dead body, child.”

Then there was this ..

Mama said, “What’s that, love? I’m not familiar with dip dye.”

Which might have come out sounding a little bit like, “Huh? What the hell is that?”

Then there was the persuasion phase.

With words like “Self-expression” and “A harmless way to be who I am in a world that makes everybody try to be the same” and “It’s only the ends so if you hate it, we can just cut it off.”

Then there was a conversation with Daddy.

With words like “Wait four weeks and if you still want it, we can talk about it then” and “FOUR WEEKS?” and “That’s kind of a long time in middle school, babe” And “Fine, two weeks and we’ll revisit it.”

Then there was a conversation with Marisa.

With words like “non-toxic products” and “totally harmless” and “I’m thinking of doing it at home” and “Um, NO. I’ll do it here” and “I can’t afford that” and “No charge” and “Are you serious? Why would you do that?” and “Because I love her” and “Oh my God, I love YOU.” And, “Okay, we’re still in the waiting period; I’ll let you know.”

And then there was this …

Which started as tripping over a ball in a soccerish sort of game in PE to torn cartilage in her foot to “You might need a cast” to a walking boot.

Which might have sounded a little bit like, “This totally stinks” and “Nobody can even sign this stupid thing” and “It’s ugly and black and I’M MAD.”

Which might possibly have led her Mom to convince her Dad to forgo the waiting period and then maybe, just maybe, do this on Saturday ..

Which is a gentle, non-toxic primer for this ..

After which she finally got to see it and that’s why her face looked like this

And after all that, there was this ..

Which made someone’s face light up like this ..

Which suddenly made this ..

.. a whole lot less important.

And that, my friends is the story of how this mother became the coolest mom ever OR the biggest sucker that ever walked the earth. All depends on who you ask.

Last night, I asked Katie if she was okay with me posting these photos. She shrugged and said, “Sure,” Then she thought for a moment and added, “There may be some haters, Mama. But that’s okay; let em hate. Cause it’s not about them. It’s about me. It’s about my self-expression and my confidence and my happiness. And I’m happy and I’m confident and I’m expressing myself. So it’s all good.”

All good.

Yes indeed, kiddo.

It’s all good.

Marisa, ain’t enough words for thank you, but hopefully “happy,” “confident,” and “expressing herself” are a pretty good start. Love you, girl.

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Employment advice on and off the autism spectrum from Marty Nemko

If you are looking for career advice, and you are free this coming Saturday, September 15, you are in luck.

KALW radio star Marty Nemko (“The Bay Area’s Best Career Coach” — SF Bay Guardian)  will answer your questions about employment for people on and off the autism spectrum at AASCEND’S meeting in their new location.

That’s right. You do not have to be on the autism spectrum to attend! Still, the focus of Marty’s talk will be on how the autism community can build its own employment structures.

Details:

AASCEND Monthly Meeting with Dr. Marty Nemko

Saturday September 15, 10-noon

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Do you have questions? Contact me HERE and I will do my very best to help.

FOLLOW ME on FACEBOOK and TWITTER.

***

The Marin and North Bay Autism Lecture Series starts Sept. 19. (more about that soon) but CLICK HERE to learn more and register.

The Morgan Autism Center Conference is coming soon, too. CLICK HERE to learn more.

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Disaster! Catastrophe! Feedburner }:-(

Oh, good morning to my ZERO subscribers.

Evidently Feedburner is kaput. Thanks, Feedburner. You’d think they would have let me know in emails with giant red letters or something. Or they did and I missed them.

This can all be summed up in one word with a lot of letters: FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

I am considering this a sign from Google that I should switch to self-hosted WordPress. I was afraid to do it because I didn’t want to lose subscribers, but it is hard to go lower than…ZERO.

Until then, I post everything Stimeyland-related on my Stimeyland Facebook page. It’s public, so I don’t think you even have to be on Facebook to see it, but it will just show up in your news feed if you are on Facebook and like the page.

Or Blogger probably has some sort of feed, so some of you may still be subscribed based on what feed you use.

Or just come by here and check for new posts. I hope to have this all sorted out by the end of the weekend. Just what I wanted to do this weekend. If anyone has advice or suggestions, I’d be thrilled to take them.

Blerg.

(confidential to Sherry: See? Like “motherfucker” but more downtrodden.)

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takin care of mama

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Diary’s Facebook Status on Tuesday night

.

And …

A revised version of it this morning ..

I have made some really poor decisions over the past couple of days. I also, however, have made some extraordinarily good ones. The best of the good ones so far today? Turning off the Wake Up To Write Alarm and resetting it into a Wake Up For Work Alarm an hour later. Cause I love you people, but this week has been too much. Far, far too much. And I really, really needed sleep. So today, Mama’s takin’ care of Mama. #OxygenMask

Need some help finding your own Oxygen Mask?

Look for inspiration HERE.

Happy Friday, friends.

w

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a place to dance


Luau’s Facebook Status today … 4 years ago I cried in a parking lot for 30 minutes because I had to pull my little one out of a ballet recital the day before the performance; 2 years later I had to pull her out of another ballet school because the school simply did not have to tools to accommodate her; today I cried because finally, FINALLY, someone get it, even better they get her! The little one is so excited for this; she did such a great job today. Thank you, THANK YOU, Boston Ballet. #NotTheOnlyCrierInTheFamilyToday

~ Diary’s Facebook status, Saturday afternoon

~

Four years ago, we tried. We made it all the way to the recital. The teacher was wonderful. The other parents were supportive. But it just wasn’t going to work. Running around the perimeter of the ballet studio during classes was one thing, but running around the stage in the middle of the auditorium during the very formal recital was another.

And for her. There were just too many moving parts for her. Waiting in a room with a hundred kids for hours on end while others performed. Standing on line – on line, Jesus, we’d barely just managed the *idea* of waiting on line – in a chaotic hallway in between shows, ballerinas running this way and that, teachers shouting directions at every angle. It was too much.

Luau made the decision. He was the one there. He had to. It nearly killed him.

He fussed over the video he’d made of the dress rehearsal. He made it every bit as special as the one he’d made for her big sister when she performed in her recital. And then he sat down and wept.

We never knew if she’d understood. We’d tried to explain. But how?

~

Two years ago, we tried again. A generous offer of support, accommodation at a local dance academy. It sounded too good to be true. Sadly, it was. She left there too.

She would ask, “When will I take my ballet class?” We had no answer. What the hell could we say?

~

A year ago, I spoke to the other parents in Brooke’s class on back to school night. I told them that she was autistic. That their kids might have some questions about her or her behavior. That I wanted them to feel free to come to me or Luau. That we didn’t have anything to hide. That we were proud of our girl.

One of the parents asked Luau if Brooke liked to dance. Luau nodded vaguely. “She does, but … “

“Boston Ballet has an adaptive dance program,” she said. “You might want to look into it.”

“Oh God, if only,” we said to one another on the way home that night. “But why will this be any different than the last? Or the one before that? Why would this one not fall apart too? Why would this not hurt like hell again?”

It was too much. We said we’d think about it.

~

Earlier this summer, she asked for a ballerina dress. We took her to the dance shop. We bought the pony – the leotard, the tutu, the tights. The nice lady who helped us asked if she was getting ready to start a class. I stuttered. “No, she loves to dress up like a ballerina at home.” It felt pathetic.

~

She asked for ballet outfits for her dolls. We clothed each and every one.

She’d dress up with her dolls and line them against her dresser. Together, they took a ballet class in her room. And it killed me.

~

Luau called.

“We’ll try it,” he said. We prayed that they knew what they were doing.

~

There was a lot of conversation ahead of time. They told Luau about their program for children with Down Syndrome and how they were seeking to create a similar program for autistic children. They told him that if we were to participate, we’d be asked to join periodic focus groups so that we could offer our input on how to make the program better. They told him that the first step would be a trial class, attended by a team who would assess Brooke in a number of areas and determine an appropriate placement. Among them would be the Occupational Therapist from Children’s Hospital who started the adaptive program ten years ago.

~

I don’t know that I’ve ever seen Brooke so outwardly excited. I do know that I haven’t heard her say the words, “I’m so excited” so many times in a row.

The night before the class, she asked me to lay out her ballet clothes. With trembling fingers, I laid out the delicate pink pieces one by one. The tights, the leotard, the tutu, the brand new petal pink slippers we’d bought the day before.

Please God, let this work for my girl, I prayed. She can shine, God. You know she can shine. Please let this be the place.

~

When we walked in, I knew.

It was the way they welcomed her. The way they interacted with her. The way when she asked the teacher if there was an H in her name, she answered by saying, “There is! Which makes my name look closed and balanced like this –” and she turned her body into the letter H. Or the way when Brooke launched into a knock-knock joke, She laughed heartily then offered up one of her own. This was going to be it.

It was the way the OT – a 45 year veteran of Children’s Hospital hugged me back when I stopped listening halfway through her explanation of why she started the program and said with tears in my eyes, “I’m sorry, but I really need to hug you.”

It was the way that they so obviously RESPECTED my girl. The way they CELEBRATED her. The way they told me what a wonderful dancer she was. How much potential she had. The way their eyes lit up talking about how she’d get to go see a dress rehearsal of the Nutcracker. How they WANTED her there.

Above all, it was in the way they connected with my girl.

And in so doing, made magic.

My girl danced.

~

As we walked out of the studio she took my hand and said, “I’m a hungry ballerina.”

Those words meant everything.

My girl knows she is a ballerina.

She *is* a ballerina.

She always was.

And now, she has a place to dance.

~

Ed note: I really did hug the OT. I also pulled the teacher – who also happens to be a ballerina with the company – into the studio to tell her just how much this all means to my girl, and to me and to Luau. I cried, of course, and eventually so did she. 

I just have to say it again. THANK YOU. To Boston Ballet, to the teacher, to the OT, to the team of people who make this possible. There are no words big enough. THANK YOU. 

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luck2tuck – hammer down

Act as if what you do makes a difference.  It does.  

~William James

I am only one, but I am one.  I cannot do everything, but I can do something.  And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do.  

~ Edward Everett Hale

Have you ever met someone and felt like you’d just been introduced to an old friend? I had the pleasure of meeting Jennifer yesterday .. and she’s beyond awesome. More to come on this, but if you’re not yet following her family’s story .. well, do. Luck2Tuck

~ Diary’s Facebook status, August 12th, 2012

~

The Gowan family is living through a nightmare. But led by their son, Tucker, they are traveling the road with honestly, grace and humor — and an inner strength that they never knew they had. What follows is their story, as told by Jennifer.

.

Tucker

It had been a beautiful day.  For the first time in a long time I felt actually excited and hopeful. We had just finished a 3 hour MAPS/Future Plans meeting at the high school for our son Tristan, a 10th grader with Aspergers. All of his teachers and family were in attendance. We had discussed at great lengths Tristan’s strengths and weaknesses, his goals in life, and what his hopes, fears and dreams were. All of this put into place to help Tristan plan for the future and help him to figure out what he wants to do after high school and beyond. It was the first time ever that I didn’t feel like the future was so scary for him. We had a plan. We had a team of people who loved and supported him.  The world was filled with possibilities. WE could do this…HE could do this. I felt elated.

However, during that meeting there was one thing that took me a bit off guard.  I still to this day have NO idea why Tristan even said it.   When we asked him about his fears, Tristan sat up straight, looked at all of us in the room and said, “My biggest fear in the world is that someone I love will get cancer.”

Now, blurting out doom and gloom comments wasn’t so unusual for my son. He tends to worry….A LOT. So I was used to this; but for some reason that particular comment made me shift a little more uneasily in my chair. After all, I had lost my mother to cancer. I certainly wasn’t going to tell Tristan that it couldn’t happen. I knew full well you could never make a promise like that to your child. Because, what if?  God forbid, what if? So instead I assured him  that although that is a very scary thought, I don’t want you to worry about things like that. I want you to enjoy life and be happy. Take each day as it comes. Stop and smell the roses. Tristan trusts my face more than my words, and if my face is smiling at him and sending him love and positive emotions, he will trust it.  He seemed content with my answer.

How little I realized that fear of Tristan’s was about to come true.

Tristan’s older brother Tucker, a junior in high school, was at the meeting as well and he was having a tough time hearing because of an ear infection he had from swimming. Just watching him struggle was driving me crazy in the meeting, so I decided to take him back to the doctors right after school to see if we could change the antibiotics he was on. Surprisingly, when our pediatrician checked his ear out she said that it was clearing up. It would just take some time for the fluid to go away. Knowing how crazed and busy we are and how hard it is to get him in for an appointment, my pediatrician asked him, “Well, since you’re here, got anything else bugging you?” Tucker mentioned his stomach had been hurting a bit, which we thought was from the antibiotics he was on. Upon further exam though, she found the area around his spleen to be tender. She thought it could be a case of mono, which is very common in 17 year olds. We needed to get some further testing, so she sent us to the ER because it was 5Pm on a Friday and all the offices were closing. It was sheer luck that we went. They drew his blood and we waited. An hour after arriving,  the ER doctor pulled me aside and delivered the most devastating blow of my life … My beautiful son had Leukemia.

The body has a way of going into shock to protect itself. I think mine went into overdrive that night. I tried to digest the words the doctor was saying to me, but I couldn’t. My mind was racing. I heard myself ask “Ok, that’s worst case scenario, what else could it be?” Her response was, “We are fairly certain it’s leukemia.” Then SHE burst into tears. I knew if the doctor was crying this couldn’t possibly be good. Think Jennifer, think. My mind was racing with a million thoughts. I needed to get him to a good hospital. How was I going to tell him this? How was I going to tell his brothers and sister this? Tristan is going to freak. He just got through telling a room full of people 3 hours earlier this was his biggest fear in life, and now it’s happening!? Is this a sick joke?! How could this be happening?!!!!  

I needed to talk to my husband. My body was shaking uncontrollably. The doctor asked me if I wanted a warm blanket. I told her I needed to sit down for a second. I thought I was going to pass out. My teeth were chattering as I spoke to her. She ran off to get me the blanket, and I sat down to call my husband. My hands were shaking so badly and all the heat had escaped from my body. I could barely dial my iPhone. All the while Tucker slept peacefully 10 feet away from me behind a curtain.

The second my husband answered and I heard his voice, the flood gates opened. I couldn’t even get the words out. He knew immediately something was wrong … seriously wrong. When I finally could form a sentence and tell him, he as calmly as possible said “We are going to get through this and we are going to figure this out.”  I told him how they wanted to send Tucker to a local children’s hospital by ambulance, but I thought we should take him to Boston Children’s Hospital, which was too far for an ambulance to go. He agreed; we needed to get him to Boston.

Me through the sobs, “But Truck, I don’t think I can drive him there. I can’t stop shaking, and I don’t know that I can keep it together in front of Tucker for the 2 hour drive.”  He said he was on his way. He couldn’t get there fast enough. I was going to crumble.

We agreed that he would drive him and I would go home to take care of the other 4 kids, pack up and meet him in Boston in the morning. How my husband made that drive that night is still beyond me.  At 1 am on March 24, 2012 Boston Children’s hospital confirmed the diagnosis of leukemia. I cried the entire night. I probably slept for an hour, if that. When I woke up, I was living a nightmare.

It’s amazing how strong a person can be when not faced with an option. Those first weeks after the diagnosis were a blur. We learned that Tucker had the rarer form of leukemia called AML, and that to treat it he would have to be in the hospital for at least 5-6 months. He wouldn’t be allowed to leave because the treatment would bring his Absolute Neutrophil Count ( the thing you need to fight infection) down to zero. The germs of the outside world could kill him.

5-6 months?!  How were we ever going to do this with 4 other children at home 2 hours away from the hospital?  The whole thing seemed daunting. But, one thing I have learned in my life, especially having a child with Aspergers, is to take things one day at a time, one minute at a time if you have to.  Whatever you need to do to get through.  This was no different, except on a much more frightening level.

Jennifer with Tucker and little sis Aisling

Both my husband and I were trying so hard to be strong for Tucker and the other kids. There were many moments, especially in those first few days, that I thought I can’t do this, but then the reality of my situation would hit me and I realized I didn’t have a choice; I had to do this.  I HAD to be strong. If it wasn’t for the support of our community and our friends and family, I don’t know how we would have made it through that initial phase. They picked up the slack where we couldn’t. I was so worried about  Tucker, but I was also so worried about the other kids, especially Tristan. For the first time in my life I had to relinquish all control when it came to them. Tucker needed me in the hospital with him.

We muddled through each day, and slowly but surely I watched all 5 of my children rise to the occasion. My heart soared with pride for all of them. I always knew how resilient children could be, but I was now seeing it with my own two eyes, and on such a grand scale. They were all willing to go with the flow, even Tristan. Whatever it took to cure Tucker, they were ALL on board for it.

Tucker has been at Boston Children’s Hospital now for 5 months. To say it has been a roller coaster ride would be an understatement.  But, the doctors and nurses have been amazing, and I am SO happy to report that he is in remission!!!  He has one more very looooong round of chemotherapy left, then he will finally be heading home.

Ainsley, Lochian, Finnian and Tristan waiting to welcome their brother home

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Follow the Gowan’s journey HERE

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YOU CAN HELP.

If you are in the Boston area, PLEASE donate platelets and blood. Check out: www.halfpints.childrenshospital.org for details and make an appointment to donate to Tucker or any of the other children fighting cancer at Boston Children’s Hospital.

If you are not in the Boston area, please inquire at your local hospital about their donation programs. Children and adults fighting cancer need countless blood and platelet transfusions as they go through chemotherapy.

Consider being a bone marrow donor. Click HERE to find out how. A thirty-second cheek swab puts you in the database, where, if you are matched with someone in need, you can literally save a life.

Donate directly to the Gowan family at Luck2Tuck, c/o Webster Bank, 100 Main St. North, Southbury, CT 06488

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fifty shades of oh my god, mom, seriously?

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It’s been a hard three days. Last night was tough. Tonight was tougher. For the sake of our sanity, it’s time to laugh. For that reason, tomorrow’s Diary post is going to be funny. Nothing but funny. There, consider yourself warned.

~ Diary’s Facebook status last night

*

As many of you know, I post periodically on Diary’s Facebook page. Usually in the evenings, I’ll share a thought – something I found funny perhaps, a cute kid story, or maybe something that struck me as particularly profound. I usually don’t stray too far off the reservation. Although my ‘real life’ sense of humor tends toward being pretty crass, I like to keep things clean here in Diary Land. It’s a family show, after all and my greatest hope is that someday my children will read what I’ve written here. Well, maybe not here today, but ya know, in general. Anyway, point is, I try to mostly stay within the navigational buoys.

One night a couple of weeks ago, however, I veered into some previously uncharted territory. I made a reference to the Fifty Shades of Grey books. I wasn’t sure how it would fly, but I figured that the odds were pretty good that in this crowd, the majority of whom are, I assume, moms, I wasn’t going to be the only one who knew what Charlie Tango was. (Christian Grey’s helicopter for the uninitiated.)

This is what I posted ..

The responses were hilarious. There was a lot of commentary on the awful writing (agreed), but even more “Gee, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Laters, baby.” confessions and even an admission to owning a “We aim to please” t-shirt. Good stuff.

And then there was a comment that went like this …

It was Ana’s mom who had her when she was very young (goodness, I don’t know how I knew that)!

To which I responded ..

Cause I had to ..

With this ..

~

The next day at work, I couldn’t resist sharing the story with a colleague. He gave me one in return.

A friend’s wife had started the first book in the series. His buddy was, well, shall we say ‘excited’ to hear about it. He asked her for details, and was extremely disappointed when she told him that she’d lost interest in the book and abandoned it less than halfway through.

He was then surprised and delighted, if not slightly confused, when he then found all three books on their shared Kindle a couple of weeks later. Once again, he was, well, ‘excited’ to hear about it. He climbed into bed one night and feverishly asked the question.

“So, what happened? I thought you didn’t like the Fifty Shades books, but now I see you’ve read them all.”

He waited anxiously for her answer.

“Oh yeah” she said, shrugging, “I wasn’t into the first one at all, but your mom said I really should give it another chance so I did.”

According to the story, he looked at her for a moment, processed what she had just told him and said as he turned out the light, “I never, ever want to talk about this again.”

~

Last Sunday, while everyone was puttering around the house, I snuck outside with the intention of transporting myself to Seattle for a little .. um .. intrigue. I got about five minutes into Ana and Oh dear God is she seriously staring down at her knotted fingers, battling with her inane inner goddess or using the word ‘there’ to describe her nether region AGAIN? when Katie came outside. She walked over and immediately asked the question.

“Whatchareadin?”

I stared at her for a moment, my mouth slack. There was no sound coming out.

“You OK, Mama?” she asked.

I blinked.

“Oh, hi, baby,” I said, pretending that somehow I hadn’t seen her in the uh, glare of the sun. “Oh, just a silly book.”

“What’s it called?”

I blinked again. I was cornered.

“It’s part of a series. It’s um, Fifty Shades of Grey.”

As soon as the words were out, I panicked. I pictured her in a bookstore with a friend and said friend’s parents and her seeing the book and pointing and shouting, “MY MOM IS READING THAT BOOK!” and then some lady in an ill-fitting suit from DSS coming to my door and telling me that I got some ‘splainin to do, Lucy and then I *really* panicked and when I really panic I start talking which is really the worst thing you can do when you really panic cause then you know, you say stupid stuff that you really, really wish you hadn’t, like, oh, I don’t know, like when your kid asks if you like the books and you can’t seem to stop the words before they’re out and you hear them and they are,

“Yeah, they’re pretty good. But um, well, there’s some pretty inappropriate scenes in them, ya know, like romance stuff, so it’s not really something to mention around other people, OK?”

And then it’s sort of like you’re underwater when you hear her saying, “Oh my God, that’s gross,” and you know that she doesn’t necessarily think that it’s gross like ya know, intrinsically but that it’s gross because her MOM is reading it and then you think of this …

… and you realize that you know EXACTLY how she feels.

~

Ed Note: Today’s Tweet of the day ..

Nearly 9,000 signatures objecting to @joeNBC @Morning_Joe ‘s reckless comments re #autism. Pls sign + share http://www.change.org/petitions/joe-scarborough-msnbc-retract-your-statements-about-autism-and-the-colorado-shooting @Starbucks

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