the blog of a disabled mother who likes to game, and "get in the pit"
Bub and Monster got some Easter gifts from Monster’s oldest aunt (his father’s oldest sister… I’m still getting used to having to refer to him in the past tense, like “was”), and we just love them! All of us are so thankful!
I swear, he inherited this (and by this, what I mean to say is Ehlers-Danlos syndrome) from me. All of it.
It may have taken a bit to describe to him what he was supposed to do in such a way that resulted in him successfully doing it, but this stands to be the most successful way he has at his disposal to learn more about his father, who died last November in a motor vehicle accident. He has several family members on his grandfather and grandmother’s sides of that side of his family who are and have been able and willing to help him out to the fullest possible extents, but they know only so much about his father, one of them substantially more than the rest. I am excited for the information that I hope doing this test will yield for him!
People have continued to try and invite me to Discord servers that I want no part of.
Look, I don’t want to hear about how I “need” to sue the automobile insurance of the driver that struck and killed my oldest son’s father “for that $25,000, because it would really help (you)”. It’s already been established that this was a complete, and completely screwed up, accident on the fault of the driver… who remained on scene and gave law enforcement answers to all of their questions and as much detail on the matter as he possibly could, even though some of it was incriminating (admitting to speeding and doing two illegal right-hand passes). And even if I wanted to pursue that windfall, it would disrupt benefits and services that my family needs and will continue to need for the foreseeable future no matter what you say or how much benefit or tax fraud you think is “acceptable” to commit. I pride myself on adhering to benefit and tax law with the utmost of strictness, and only grew up “with these people” in the strictest sense of the word because my mother was content to fob me off onto the Internet so she didn’t have to deal with me or interact with me — I was her meal ticket and knew that by the age of six, which coincided with her first attempts to fob me off onto the Internet. America Online, to be precise. My dad wanted there to be limitations in my Internet usage (such as time spent on it and the fact that I could not call or visit anyone “from the Internet” for as long as I was a minor, the last two he got his wish on, and the very last one still in effect because no one who isn’t a content creator who can prove as such “from the Internet” is allowed on the property). I didn’t want to make friends online and treated attempts at such during my adolescence accordingly, whereas I’m sure others in different circumstances had less dimmer or even much less dimmer recollections of events that both of us might have been involved in. They were content to make friends online. I just wanted a mother who wasn’t abhorrent to pay attention to me and consistently meet my needs.
My mother’s delight in fobbing me off to the Internet and her subsequent enjoyment at having it babysit me are why I limit my kids’ consumption of the Internet like I do. They are not allowed to have social media accounts of their own and they are not allowed to chat (or Zoom) with anyone who isn’t a real-life friend, family member, or member of our homeschool co-op. I don’t want them to grow up like I had to grow up.
