Denis Leary is Stupid

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine brought to my attention that Denis Leary, a very unattractive actor, has an opinion on autism. Well of course he does...who doesn't these days?

According to Denis, "There is a huge boom in autism right now because inattentive mothers and competitive dads want an explanation for why their dumb-ass kids can't compete academically, so they throw money into the happy laps of shrinks ... to get back diagnoses that help explain away the deficiencies of their junior morons," calling such children "stupid" or "lazy" rather than autistic.

Okey dokey. I can certainly see how Denis could be confused. Clearly he has a medical degree. How did I miss that announcement?

I could really go off on Denis Leary right now. Trust me. If you know me, you realize the title of this post is FAR from my original thought...but I decided I wanted people to keep reading if they clicked on the blog to begin with.

So let me just point out what is obvious to me. Denis Leary certainly does not know the heartbreak that comes from being told there is something wrong with your child. Even when you already knew. Especially when you already knew. He also probably can't fathom how you could not only continue to love that child, but to actually love that child more because of their disability, and celebrate every single milestone - large and small - with them, for them, because of them.

My child has autism. He's not stupid or lazy. He actually made all Bs (with one C in science) on his last report card. And he's consistently done that since being diagnosed with autism. I guess we forgot to tell him he had a free pass to underperform.

Is he quirky? You bet. Does he exhaust us mentally, physically, emotionally? Sometimes. But more often than not, he makes my heart soar, he makes me laugh, he makes me proud of all of his accomplishments, and he makes me grateful to a God that would entrust his well-being to me.

Before he was diagnosed, I wasn't as ignorant as Denis Leary, but I was pretty close. My beliefs on autism cented around Rain Man. Holy crap, I couldn't handle that. Thank God my children were perfect. Well guess what? They aren't...and I can.

I've always had a firm belief that Michael doesn't get to use autism as an excuse for anything. He actually doesn't even know he has the diagnosis...and I'm fine with keeping it that way. He realizes he gets some special treatment at school, like getting taken out of class for certain tests and getting copies of someone's notes so he doesn't hold the whole class up while he writes every letter perfectly, but if he forgets to do his homework (or simply chooses not to), I send his teacher an email and remind her that he deserves detention...just like anyone else.

He's not stupid. And he doesn't have a mean bone in his body. Can Denis Leary say the same?

Economic Stupidity

The title of this post sounds like I'm going to make some profound comments...do not fear...I will be as far from profound as possible (as usual). This is just something I cannot pass up commenting on.

Last night, the Smurf and I decided to do a little shopping. She needed to go to Sam's, and I thought I'd go along for fun (and drive - convertibles make you think road trips are ALWAYS a good idea!). We added in a couple of fun stops...the thrift store (fun for her, not me, although I actually found a couple of good things for FrogBoy) and the bookstore (fun for me and not her).

In between a couple of our stops, we decided to eat. I had a coupon. (Pay attention...we're not spending money here). So we go to this restaurant at 4:30 and the place is packed. Nowhere to park. At all. When we finally got inside, it was completely empty. Except the bar. Happy Hour. Who knew there were so many drinkers in Charleston? But I digress.

We sit down and order. Now we had a plan before we even decided to go to this particular restaurant, and we stuck with it. We each got a sandwich, and I had a buy-one-get-one-free (BOGO) coupon, good up to $16 off the entire order. Sandwiches are $8, so we each were squeaking by for $4. Good plan.

Like I said, we order. And our waiter, who I will admit was a decent looking man, starts flirting. Seriously. With a 65-old-Smurf and ME. He's calling us "m'lady" and flashing these grins that would stop a train and stopping by just to say "hi" and telling us stories about his mama - I was surprised he didn't squeeze into the booth with us.

Our dinner ended up costing $8.54.

Fast forward and we're running errands. It's the bookstore and I'm feeling particularly impatient so I ask for help. If you know me, you realize how rare this is. The guy in the store practically becomes my personal shopper. Then he follows me around until I'm ready to pay so he can help me check out. It's starting to get weird.

Final straw: Wal-Mart. I get my stuff and head for check-out. This is the North Chuck Wal-Mart by Sam's, where they have 237 lines but only 4 are open at any given time. So I waited. And waited. And when I finally reached the front, the rather nerdy check-out guy says, "Hey, you're looking awfully good tonight. How are you? You come here often?" (Okay, #1, I know I look good to YOU, and #2, yes, he seriously asked if I come here often...to Wal-Mart).

So I was polite and made a hasty retreat. And on the way to the car, all I could think was this: These guys must be trying to push their products because of the economy. Because I looked in the mirror before I left, and I have no idea what they could have been thinking.