It's interesting the sort of mail and comments I receive here at French Fry Inc. Some of it's very complementary. Some, thought provoking. Other's, well, makes me wonder why their Mamas didn't teach them any manners. Honestly though, the trolls who manage to stumble out from underneath the bridge they are living under long enough to steal their neighbor's Wifi long enough to send it really don't bother me. Heck, getting hate mail means I've arrived as a writer! Thanks for validation ya knuckleheads!
I thought I would use this post to answer some questions and address some of the more questionable feedback I have gotten. Here goes nothing! Oh and if you hate this post with every fiber of your being so much so that you feel compelled to write me, realize it will be future blog fodder. Enjoy!
"Why do you pretend to be normal when your kid clearly is not? I mean if you're kid is in special ed, there's nothing normal about that?"
Thank you Captain Obvious for noting my autistic child is indeed in a special education program. Here's the thing though, this IS our normal. I'm not even going to use that "Normal is a setting on the dryer" quote here Honey. Cause all that's going to do is remind me to go fold those sheets I have in my dryer. You see, there is always a load of sheets to be washed and dried. That's my normal. The nice bonus of having to wash them as much as I do is I rarely actually have to fold them to store them. I'm usually grabbing them right from the dryer to replace the ones that need to be changed. In fact I'm thinking of turning my linen closet into a small office seeing as my linens are anywhere but in that space. Back to this whole pretending to be normal. What else would you like me to be? Wailing and gnashing my teeth? I won't do that. I'd smudge my lipstick.
"Why do you sometimes post or tweet things that have nothing to do autism?"
Simply because I can. Yes, autism can be all consuming but I occasionally like distract myself from it. Call it a sensory break for Mama Fry when I tweet Bianca Del Rio and tell her how much I enjoy her Judge Judy impersonation on RuPaul's Drag Race. If you want the all autism experience, move on by. I can't give ya what you need. If you are ever wondering why your relationships with others might be slipping, it could be the "all autism, all the time"conversation topics you choose that could be doing it. Trust me, I've been guilty of it myself. Mix it up a bit. You'll be glad you did.
"Are you autistic? Sometimes you sound like you are when you talk about schedules and your quirks and stuff. Why are you hiding it if you are?"
Am I? Are you? Does it matter? Well I guess to some it must. I will be completely honest. I have no idea. I will say that I am sure that the quirky apple didn't fall far from the tree. There are many behaviors that my son does that I completely understand. Eye contact? Pfft, who needs it? Mine sucks. Sensory issues? Got them in spades baby. Schedules, you betcha! Love me some nice orderly schedules. You should see my phone. I got lists galore. I'm just a hair away from a sticker chart. Also, some of this normal I spoke of early, it just rubs off on a gal. If you live it, well, you live it. If some of the things I do make sense to me and my kiddo and not to anyone else, that's all that matters. If I have a feeling that makes me understand where my kiddo is coming from than that is a gift. I don't care what you call it. Someday, maybe I will pursue that more but I'm 40 and my priority is helping out the kiddo I live with. I can put that on a shelf for a bit. I can't shelve his needs now. So sorry, the mystery continues.
"You're too sarcastic. Autism is a serious issue. You're making jokes of it."
You noticed? Well Hell's Bells, I thought I was doing a great job of hiding my sarcasm. Let me get this straight. I got to hide my kid, my life, whether or not I'm autistic and my sense of humor. Gee, that's a lot of stuff. Guess I could put it in the above mentioned often empty linen closet. I'm not even going to apologize for my humor Sweetie. That's just me. I spent way too much time crying over all things autism and I am sure to cry another rive of tears over it. In the time between, I will laugh. I will laugh till my sides hurt. Being miserable makes the day a Hell of a lot longer. I'm sorry you're not in that place yet and maybe you never will be. Too bad though, I would of shared a side of fries with you.
"Does your kid know you're writing about him? I'm tired of seeing parents write about their kids."
Yep, he does. Well in so much he knows there's this awesome page on Facebook that makes his Mama pretty happy with a really cool picture of French Fries and a Yoohoo on it. There are some topics I won't touch. I think I've been pretty good about that. I really have no advice to you other of if you don't like them, don't read them. Go scroll on Buzzfeed. I'm sure you'll find a amusing quiz to find out what character on "Friends" you are that can occupy your time. I'm guessing you're not a parent. Maybe if you become one, you will see the appeal. Or at least understand why it is we like to talk about our kids so much. I can't help the fact that he's freaking awesome. Go ask your mom what she thinks about you. Say thank you when she says the same or she might not give you your allowance this week. Or worse, the password to your house's Wifi.
"When I read you, I feel less alone."
Thank you. I do too. Let's spoon. OK, that got weird. Yeah, social skills. Add that to the list. :-) Yeah, that's why I still write. I need to feel less alone too. We all do. I'll suffer the negative comments for ones like that.
Seriously, let's cuddle and nap. I know you're tired.