Tag Archives: dinosaur

Label Me

Label-MakerI remember a conversation Dad was having with a doctor about me once.

As I’ve said before…I don’t always pay attention to what he says…so I’m not sure what his exact words were.

BarneyBut it was something like “I don’t care if you call him a purple dinosaur.”

A purple dinosaur!?!?

That’s ridiculous. Have you ever heard of such a thing???

Purple dinosaur… <insert head shake here>

I’ve also heard Mommy tell other parents with kids like me “Who cares what they call him? Let them call him whatever they want.”

I know. On the surface this sounds harsh.

But let me give you some context.

Because…the fact is…if someone called me a mean name…meant to hurt my feelings…or belittle me…

ronda-rousey-woman-mma-fighter…well…I’d hate to see what Daddy would do to them…

…and that’s if there was anything left after Mommy was done with them.

Both of them are pretty protective of me.

So when they said “call him what you want”…they mean call me what you want if it gets me more help.

See…I think some parents don’t like when their kid is called autistic, developmentally delayed, slow, Asperger’s…or whatever.

I don’t know?

Maybe they’re afraid people will treat them different? Or maybe it means they have to come to a realization they’re not ready to accept? Or maybe because they feel like they’re being criticized and blamed?

Like I said. I don’t know?

Maybe they haven’t realized how cool it is to have a kid like me.

Luckily. Mom and Dad have…and focus on the positives.

But let’s get real…why wouldn’t they focus on the positives?

I mean…Mommy and Daddy saaaay we go to the Disney store just for me…

…but who doesn’t enjoy a trip to see all the latest stuffed babies.

Don’t get me wrong…they’re not always positive. I’ve had to take them to get frensch-fries-shicken to talk ’em off the ledge a couple times.

It’s a big responsibility…but I can do it.

And maybe because they focus on how cool I am…they don’t really care what people call me if they’re trying to help.

Besides. Sometimes a label gives me the opportunity to meet someone who can help me do something fun.

talk_to_the_hand_by_moviesbro-d8zty3aLike riding a horse. Making a house for the birds. Plant a garden. Art. Take a jungle walk. Or help me get a dog so I can get around all by myself.

Anyway. I’m not giving the thumbs-up to go around calling people names. But if a label is used for good…label me.

And if the label is used to be mean…talk to da haaaand.

Well…I gotta go. But don’t worry…I’ll be baaack.

Bye. See ya ta-mah-wo.

 

 

Here’s where I got the pics:

Label maker

Barney

Fighter

Arnold

 

 

 

 

Happy Birthday To Me

birthdayAs a rule. I love birf-days.

They’re awesome. There’s cake. You get to blow candles outs. Ba-wooons. And you sing-a-song…

You know. Happy birf-day to you, happy birf-day to you…

It doesn’t really matter whose birf-day it is. I love ’em. So festive.

But today it’s my birf-day. And even though I don’t like the spotlight…the focus will be on me today.

That’s right. I’m 23. What?!?!

stuffieI have no idea what that number means…but I think it has something to do with dinosaurs…

Not like my dinosaur Stuffie or Barney…a real one…

At least Daddy says that’s how it makes him feel. I dunno?

I’ve said it before. And I’ll say it again. That guy’s an enigma.

But I’m not the only one who likes my birf-day. Mommy does too.

She gets excited looking through the cake book at the store to pick the cake I want. Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo many choices!

Sesame Street, Thomas the Train, Disney, Dora, and, and, and…FANTASTIC!

We lose Dad about 2 pages in. But Mommy and I power through it.

Besides the cake on my birf-day, I get a couple other things.

FIrst. Mom makes my favorite meal. It’s got chicken…good. Cheese…good. Stuffing…gooood.

And then! I get presents. They don’t get me near as many as Santa Claus brings me…but Mommy and Daddy are pretty busy…so I get it.

Anyway. It’s been a pretty good year I guess.

halloweenDidn’t have to go back to school…which is cool.

But, honestly, I do miss the opportunity to dress up every now and then.

Like this. It’s hard to tell…but that’s not really Whembly Fraggle…it’s me. I’m wearing a costume.

I guess I could still dress up. But let’s face it. When you’re 23. It’s not cool anymore.

Ooooh who am I kidding? It’s still FREAKING AWESOME.

So you might be wondering? What do I get a kid who has everything?

Cake. Favorite meal. B-wohing out the candles. A couple presents. Everything.

trainsYou might think a new Thomas the Train set.

While that might be cool. I’m good.

I already have one. See. Here I am setting it up at the bottom of the stairs…by the front door…

Because…where else do you put a train set together?

I don’t need any new movies. I’ve got ’em all.

And the onesĀ  I don’t have…I’ve got plenty of tickets for.

I have Legos. I don’t know where all of them are anymore. But Daddy finds ’em when he walks in my room for something. Thaaaat’s a little funny.

So I don’t need any “things”. Nope.

Plus – Mommy doesn’t know I know – she already got me some stuff. SURPRIIIIISE!

I know most of you will feel compelled to send me stuff. And I appreciate that. I do.

But instead of sending me stuff…maybe…you could just go here to my site and drop a few quarters to help people like me get dawgs like this:

service dog

That would make you and me feel good. Because it’d be helping someone else out on my birf-day…or any day really.

Mommy said that’s a nice thing to do too.

Aw-rite. I gotta go get some breakfast and watch-a-mooovie before the cake and presents later today.

So. Bye. See ya ta-mah-wo.

 

 

Oh. BTW. That picture of the dog is from the nice people at SDWR. You should check ’em out.