April 2, turn it blue.

I do not much love Autism Speaks. 
That being said, they have a pretty cool Autism awareness campaign going on right now.
They are asking for major landmarks to Light It Up Blue, for Autism Awareness Day on April 2nd.

I do however, much love Jess, from Diary of a Mom.  She has posted an open letter to Barack Obama, encouraging him to include the White House in this campaign.  If you haven't read her letter, you should.  Like right now. 
You can find it here. 
It is a powerful piece, and I can't even begin to do it justice. 
So please, go read.  And comment. 

Awareness is so important, peeps.

This post is mostly about how awesome I am.

So yes, Happy St. Patty's Day everyone- whether you wear orange or green today, or simply just forgot to dress your children festively (*ahem* sorry, Jaysen) at all...may the force be with you in your quest for enlightenment through green beer.
But.
Today is also special for a totally different reason.
Know what it is?

Today...

Is my one year anniversary of quitting smoking.

Hells yeah! I am so freaking proud of myself.
I honestly never thought I would be able to do this. Never.

But now?
I think I got this shyt.

So, happy St. Patrick's Day, and Irish you were beer.

My chupacabra can beat up your tiger, Charlie Sheen.

Well, Charlie Sheen has lost his effin' mind.
Seriously lost.his.everlovin'.mind, peeps.
Or is a Scientologist.

I was going to write a post about it, but then recanted, thinking I did not want to come across as insensitive- but seeing that Sheen-o-rama has swept the internets, and here, I am totally jumping on the bandwagon. Because I am a copycat like that.

The tragic thing about Mr. Sheen's mental blowout, is he is obviously a deeply troubled person, in a tailspin of self-destruction. The lighter side is he seems to be enjoying himself, and bonus there are interesting new things like the Charlie Sheen Rant Generator, Mad-Lib style. If you are ranting like he has been, it's got to be cathartic. Let's test that theory, shall we?

Here is my automatically generated rant.

“I am on a drug. It’s called The Quirk Factor. If you try it once, you will vaporize. Your uvula will melt off, and your parents will undulate over your pummelated body … I’m tired of pretending like I’m not gollyish—a total freaking nerf-herder from Jupiter. I’ve got chupacabra blood, Aphrodite DNA! … They picked a fight with a phoenix. They’re trying to take all my jawbreakers and leave me with no means to stabulate my family. It’s not botany! They owe me an apology while gyrating my tragus … I don’t think people are ready for the b'dussy I’m delivering, and delivering with a sense of fugly love. I exposed lemons to magic! Here’s your sweat test. Next one goes in your eye socket!”

Awesome. I have chupacabra blood.
I love Charlie Sheen.

On a more serious note, this is a good opportunity to show kids the possible affects of "bad choices", and that even celebrities are not immune to such things. It is interesting that he is generating a feeling of great responsibility in Us. We "know" Charlie. We feel for him. We want him to get help. We want him to be okay. We care.

But how many non-celebrity people are out there with mental illness, who We don't give a flyin' monkeyfinger about? What about the everyday people? The moms, dads, siblings, neighbours... who struggle with mental illness on a daily basis? Struggle for acceptance, treatment, and services? People whose support system doesn't have seemingly unlimited funding or don't have access to the best treatment centers. Or people who simply just don't have a support system? I do hope that We are able to use this as an awareness experience, along with other celebrities that have come out with their disabilities (I'm hurling my pride and praise at you, Mr. Apl.de.ap, from Black Eyed Peas.), and bring more awareness to our society.

Whew.
Okay, I am going to get off my soapbox and go stabulate my family with jawbreakers now.

Aww nuts.

Ah. Sensory Dysfunction.

If you don't have a child with food aversions- serious food aversions, not just picky, you really can't understand. I wish I had a picky eater. I have a seriously neophobic problem eater. And no, he won't just eat if he is hungry enough.

The best way I can describe it is if you were given a plate of pufferfish which has been encrusted with a beautiful blend of glass shards and rat poison, atop a lovely glaze of cyanide, and infused with arsenic imported from France. Would you eat it? What if your bestest friend told you you would be fine? What about your mom? Surely your own mother would not wish you harm, and she says it's okay... she only wants you to try a bite, but it's loaded with things that can maim and kill you!

Chances are, you aren't going to even take a bite. And if you do take one bite, chances are you're going to have some pretty high anxieties about it. And you probably, most certainly, would become combative if someone tried to force you to eat it.

This is kind of how many of these children view unfamiliar foods.

That being said-
We attended my uncle's 70th birthday party over the weekend. Jaysen did well because he was absorbed in his computer game. We weren't going to be there a long time, so I didn't figure we needed to bring a cache of food with us. I was probably wrong. He did say he wanted a brownie, and I was actually shocked that he ate it, since it was a homemade one.

Side thought: You can tell a neophobe's parent when they are begging their child to eat junk food... Haha.

Anyfudge-
For the record, I also had to put some grapes on his plate, apparently for show since I knew they would go untouched. So he had 2 brownies, and was jockeying for a 3rd. I told him he would have to eat some grapes first. I also noticed someone had put 2 almonds on his plate.

Jaysen...eat an almond.
No.
C'mon.... I dare you. Just one.
No.
Please?
Nothankyou.
I'll give you $20.
No!
I'll give you $100.
No.
I'll....take you to Italy.
Mom! Noooo!
Okay, okay... eat one and I'll buy you a car.
NO!

By now, we have gathered a small crowd of people complete with commentary "I'll eat an almond for $20", etc. Shut up, feckerheads. Let me irritate my son my own special way.
I digress.

If you eat one almond, I'll give you $50.
You don't have $50. Show it to me.
*Upon this statement, as if on cue, my father opens up his wallet and flashes a fifty dollar bill*
Jaysen hesitates, but then popped an almond into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed!

Ohmigawd.
I owe my child $50.
For eating one almond.

YES!
Sure, he choked and gagged, almost barfed onto my aunt's coveted carpeting, but he did it! And I am rockin' proud of him. I am also proud he suckered me out of fifty bucks (higher level thinking skills!). Well actually, my dad's the one who had to cough up the dough. I think he's learned his lesson about putting his money where my mouth is. And I will totally pay you back, Peepa.

Of course, there were people who were appalled I just gave my son money for eating such a small morsel, but those of us who have truly problem eaters, can appreciate just how big this feat was.

Not to mention he totally called my bluff and shut me down.
Well played, Pooka.