» Spoilt Brats

Oh but he can't help it
I am a member of a forum for parents with kids with autistic spectrum disorders (as I have mentioned many times my 8 year old is autistic) and I swear the place riles the fuck out of me. Everyday I log on and see so many of these parents moaning and whining about how their child does this that and the other but "they can't help it cause they got a special need innit". I swear it boils my blood. Slightly off topic but I shall tell you my story of how I turned what looked like a spoiled brat into my lovely star wars obsessed son. I am going to blow my own trumpet here because I think I've done a damn good job with my son.

Back when he was 3 he wouldn't join in with any of the other kids at nursery and wandered around at story time. The nursery staff had a different tale about my sons behaviour everyday and I absolutely dreaded picking him up. I have to admit my son was like the spawn of satan back then, would scream no in your face if you asked him to do anything, ran riot around rooms breaking things and generally being loud and verbally aggressive. Anyway the nursery decided to get child health involved by putting us in contact with someone who could guide us through getting him sorted out. I had never even considered the idea that he might have a special need (or additional need as the PC crowd demand it to be called nowadays) We were put in touch with a local childrens centre and was told that we would be getting a family support worker in the for of a special educational needs co-ordinator. At first I was totally against any idea of any help fearing being labelled a family of chavs who needed help from the system to control their unruly brat. We applied for a place for him at the local school and I could tell they didn't really want him there so this lady set the wheels in motion for a diagnosis, what she suspected was the cause of his behaviour I did not know, but I went along with it all expecting it to be a long and tiring task with no outcome other than a label of some sort of "Behavioural disorder" (You know the kind I mean, the one they stick on kids that they can't stick anything else on). Life went on with a whirlwind of appointments and meetings to discuss my son. It all changed at one appointment when my husband and I were sat behind two way mirror and watching my son interact with psychiatrists and paediatricians, he was running wild and creating havoc, when I was asked to go to him and calm him down. I walked into the room and picked him up and sat him on a chair and kneeled down next to him and said "Stop this now, we're going to sit here together until you calm down" it was exactly what I had been doing to calm him down all along and seemed to work pretty well. After the appointment I was told he wouldn't be able to attend mainstream school and a few weeks later I was told he had suspected Autism and that I was actually quite a good mum and hadn't been doing anything wring HURRAH. Now apart from watching the film Rainman I had never really heard of it before so I came home and read up about it on the internet. Joined many groups and learnt as much as I could about it. After learning all about it everything clicked in place, why Thomas the Tank engines had to be lined up in a certain colour order, why he chewed his clothes and repeated everyone's sentences but never able to make one of his own. A few months on we got the full diagnosis through the post in the form of a statement. Finding out it wasn't his fault to begin with was the start of something fantastic, I learned he was angry because he couldn't communicate what he wanted so my son and I learned Makaton together, I had stickers everywhere on wardrobes on the toy box kitchen cupboards and he carried a little book around with him and whenever he wanted to something he would show me a picture of it. Then we established a strict routine (being very anti Gina Ford this was extremely difficult for me) but he was like a changed child. He was happy and never angry and even managed to bond with his new baby brother. He now attends a special school and is excelling at everything, he comes home every day and can't wait to get through the door and tell me everything he's learned (usually after he's explained that R2D2 and C3PO are not Jedi Knights but Luke Skywalker is Annakin Skywalker and Queen Amidalas son and that Annakin skywalker is REALLY Darth Vader) *prouds*

Five years on I can honestly hold my hands up and say that his bad behaviour has vanished and he is the most placid and loving child I have ever met. He has tantrums occasionally but most children do, and when he does he just shouts "I'm going away" and he does, he goes and has 10 minutes quiet time on his own and then comes back and carries on as if nothing has happened. As for me, I now run the local special needs parents support group, and I am also on the board of directors for the very organisation that got me through the tough times.

So this takes me back to my original thought and it's a controversial one at that. A child having special needs is NOT an excuse for bad behaviour. If my child is rude, throws a hissy fit for no reason other than to be a little shit he will get told off for it. None of this Namby pamby shit here thanks, if you're naughty then I take something away, If I have to take away everything you own then so be it.

I rambled far too much here and haven't been able to get my thoughts in order properly for this but meh fuck it, it's been nice to type all that up.
(Tue 14th Oct 2008, 10:26, More)

» The nicest thing someone's ever done for me

My best friend
I find this story incredibly hard to tell because I get choked up by it quite alot and still have a massive sense of guilt over it.

Back to Christmas 2003 I was 3 months married and was going through a rough time, I had just been promoted at work to a manager and was taking a 2 hour journey on the bus from Bradford to Wakefield 5 days a week setting off at 6am and not getting in until 8pm all this is going on whilst I am finally realising that I wasn't a bad parent at all and I was being gently brought around to the fact that my son had some sort of social and communication disorder (later diagnosed as Autism), because of this my husband and I never ever went out together, we had many nights out on our own but never together. A few days after Christmas my father in law calls us and says that there is a New Years Eve party at the golf club and we should come, I declined at first saying that we couldn't leave the boy but then my own dad popped his head around the door and said that we should go and he and my mum would cope. So the night rolled around and I am sat in front of the mirror curling my hair and making myself feel a bit human and feeling very excited when the phone rings. It was my best friend, we had known each other for years and were really close to each others families and until we both left our homes we practically lived between my parents and her mums. we did the usual hi how are you stuff and then she said "what are you doing tonight?" I told her all about my night out, she asked me lots of questions like what I was wearing, told me I needed the night out etc and all the while I could hear things didn't sound right with her so I asked what was wrong and she said nothing, and that her and our other friends night had fallen through so they were just going to stay in cause she was tired anyway. Knowing this friend so well I didn't worry too much as she was always a bit grumpy when she was tired. I put the phone down and finished getting ready for what was to be one of the greatest nights out I had ever had, we drank far too much and then we were called outside by everyone only to see that it had been snowing very heavily and it felt so special and christmassy. The evening came to an end and the taxi's had stopped because of the snow and we were stuck in Huddersfield needing to get back to Bradford, so one kind chap who had remained sober piled a good fair few of us into his minibus and braved the short but snowcovered motorway trip to Bradford dropping us all off at the petrol station at the end of the motorway. My parents only live down the road so Mr Sp@m and I set off walking 3am in the snow down my mum and dad mile long hill. We were very very merry and decided to roll a snowball as far as we could, we must have got it to nearly 4ft tall (unbeknownst to me whilst trying to push this 4ft snowball and pissed out of my head I was actually 4 week pregnant oops) , cars were passing and people were waving at us falling over in the snow and laughing, we even stayed up until 4.30am building a snowman in my mum and dads garden (I know I know childish but fun).

Anyway I have gone way off track here but I always tell it like this because thinking of the night out makes everything seem easier to deal with.

The next morning I eventually woke up with virtually no hangover but we decided to stay at my mum and dads and chill out in our pyjamas for the rest of new years day. About 5pm I decided to ring my friend from the night before and tell her of my awesome night and see if she had decided to go out in the end at all. So I picked up the phone and dialled the number and our other friend answered, I asked if my friend was there and she said no and that she had gone to her mums with her grandma and aunty I said "ohh is her aunty and grandma up from London I didn't know they were coming, I'm going to go over and see them" I was all cheerful as you do and then my friend went quiet on the phone and said "Oh Sam its awful, she didn't tell you did she?" I said "tell me what?" then I was informed that her mum had collapsed and died the previous morning (she was 46 and it was totally unexpected) and she had rang me the night before to tell me but she didn't because she didn't want to spoil my night. I was devastated.

I find it quite hard to deal with to this day I feel guilty about not being there for her and after a while I think I was a little bit angry with her for not telling me but then I realised that's just again me feeling guilty. At the one time she probably really needed me the most she selflessly sacrificed it because she thought that my night out was something she didn't feel she could take away from me. She told me never to look upon that night with sadness and if anything turn it into a celebration of her mum. And that's what my best friend did for me. *cries a bit*

*edit*Christ that's long.
(Fri 3rd Oct 2008, 9:43, More)

» God

I am looking forward to reading all the posts this week
about how all god botherers are jaded lunatic worshippers of mythical beings and stories.

I have faith, I would never push it upon someone else and most in fact of the people I know who go to church do and would not push their faith onto others. I like having faith, for me personally it gives me peace of mind and having the belief that there is something more after all this is comforting, and working and living in a massively multicultural area it really helps me identify with a lot of the families I work with.

One thing I have noticed though is that a lot of atheists are far worse than a lot of the christians I know when it comes to pushing what they believe. They demand proof and of course unless you are able to come back from the dead be it a scientific breakthrough or a holy miracle you will never be able to give this proof, so then your labelled as a freak and a loon.
My believing in god doesn't harm anyone, and if you are going to throw the "Religion creates War" card at me then I will try and throw the "If they weren't fighting over religion then they would be fighting over something else" card.

Yes you get the odd bloke standing in town with a life size replica of Jesus' Crucifix strapped to his back bawling about fire and damnation for sinners, you can walk past him and ignore him if you chose to? I often open the door to Jehovah's Witnesses and will spend a few minutes listening to what they have to say I have never been rude to them or just told them I am not interested and not once have they tried to convert me, they just give me a copy of the watchtower, read a bit of the bible to me, wish me well and bugger off next door.

Anyway I am not sure what my point is to this post I wanted to put across the point of view from the other side of religion from a normal 30 yr old girls point of view, and say that it doesn't hurt to just get on with life allowing other people believe what they want to believe, I would never try and force an Atheist to believe in God so why are all the ones I have met damned set on proving to me that something that makes me happy and brings me comfort, doesn't exist.

I also want to point out that this post isn't aimed at all atheists just the ones I have met.
(Thu 19th Mar 2009, 17:24, More)

» The Dark

Remember when you were little
and it was dark, and you needed the loo?

Remember how you used jump 10 foot to door from your bed, run to the loo and then run back to bed jumping another 10 feet from the door to the bed so the scary underbed monster couldn't grab your feet all the while inside you feel like you are going to explode with fear which is tinged with a little excitement. And finally getting in bed and hiding under your covers laughing triumphantly that you've beaten the underbed monster once more.

I caught my 4 year old doing this the other night. It was about 2am and I heard his little feet stampede across the landing, a little giggle while he was having a wee and finally the leap to success, I had to investigate it so I got up and listened in through his door only to hear him do a little giggle under his covers and then I heard a triumphant little whispered "Yessssssssssss" and I imagined him punching the air at the same time.

I can't explain why, but I felt incredibly proud and amused that my son has finally experienced this bit of his childhood, another right of passage of childhood.
(Sat 25th Jul 2009, 11:46, More)

» Family codes and rituals

Another Christmas one
Every single year for as long as I can remember, Christmas morning has been the same. I love it and never want it to change.

As kids are waking up at 4am asking their parents if Santa has been, my dad is up organising the living room, sorting presents into piles until 7am when he phones us and tells us to hurry up and get to their house as the bacon is nearly ready and the tea's going cold. We all pile into the car usually still in our pyjamas half asleep and drive to my mum and dads. When we get there we dare not go near the living room door oh no that's against the law, it's straight into the kitchen for us whilst we wait for my other two sisters to arrive. Around 8am we've finished the bacon and tea and then my dad leads the kids to the living room door and says "wait here kids, I need to make sure Santa hasn't fallen asleep on the sofa again" two seconds later he comes out and says "nope, all clear, you can come in now" The kids run into the room and take up their respective seats on the floor and all the adults (8 of us) all pile in and sit in the same seats we have sat in for the past 10 or so years. Magic's christmas songs are usually blaring out on the TV and once we're all settled my dad hands each present out individually reading who it's to and from and we all watch that person open their present. and then it's the next persons turn. When there are presents for 10 people this usually takes hours, but it's the best bit of the day and I think it makes us all alot more greatful for what we get. About 11am, just as we think it's all over my dad usually springs a surprise present on us all that he's even hidden from my mum which we all open together. It can be anything from a number of little presents, one each or one big family present to share.

After this we all grab a bin bag and clear out the wrapping paper and then the men "help" the kids "set up" their gadget like toys, while the women all go in the kitchen for a sherry and a mince pie while we muck in with crossing the sprouts and peeling the potatoes. Dinner is usually around 3pm and being from a traditional family the kids get theirs dished out first, then the men and us ladies last. After that the men wash up and the ladies sit around in the kitchen drinking sherry and eating mince pies and christmas log. Then it's games and or a sleep for the older folk. Around 7pm we all settle down and watch Doctor Who and after that we set off home where the kids get their new pyjamas on, have a turkey sandwich and then snuggle up in bed, exhausted after a days play. Mr Sp@m and I usually settle down with a Baileys and watch a few Christmas specials at this point until it's time for bed.

Christmas day has been exactly the same for me the past 29 years except now I have the added bonus of watching my own childrens faces light up with each present.

I LOVE CHRISTMAS!
(Tue 25th Nov 2008, 10:20, More)