Grungy Bull Rider

Grungy Bull Rider
Grungy Bull Rider

Grungy bull rider

Tags

More Posts from Baguettehasarrived89 and Others

This may just be my experience as an autistic person, but the kids I’ve nannied whose parent’s complain of ‘bad awful in cooperative selfish autistic behavior’ are… Not like that? At all?

Like, for example, I cared for a kid for a while who was nonverbal and didn’t like being touched. Around six years old? Their parent said that they were fussy and had a strict schedule, and that they had problems getting them to eat. Their last few nannies had quit out of frustration.

So, I showed up. And for the first little while, it was awkward. The kid didn’t know me, I didn’t know them, you know how it is. And for the first… Day and a half, maybe? I fucked up a few times.

I changed their diaper and they screamed at me. I put the TV off and they threw things. Not fun, but regular upset kid stuff.

Next time, I figured, hell, I wouldn’t like being manhandled and ordered around either. Who likes being physically lifted out of whatever it is they’re doing and having their pants yanked off? Fucking few, that’s who.

Next time, I go, ‘hey, kiddo. You need a new diaper?’ and check. ‘I’m gonna go grab a new one and get you clean, okay?’ ‘Wanna find a spot to lay down?’ ‘Alright, almost done. Awesome job, thanks buddy’.

I learned stuff about them. They liked a heads up before I did anything disruptive. They didn’t mind that I rattled of about nothing all day. They didn’t like grass or plastic touching their back. They were okay with carpets and towels. They liked pictionary, and the color yellow, and fish crackers, and painting. They didn’t look me in the face (which was never an issue- I hate that too, it fucking sucks) but I never had reason to believe that they were ignoring me.

Once I learned what I was doing wrong, everything was fine. Did they magically “”“become normal”“” and start talking and laughing and hugging? No, but we had fun and had a good time and found a compromise between what I was comfortable with and what they were comfortable with. (For the record, I didn’t magically sailor-moon transform into a socially adept individual, either. In case anyone was wondering.)

I don’t like eye contact. It’s distracting and painful and stresses me out.

They didn’t like eye contact either.

Is eye contact necessary to communication? No. So we just didn’t do it.

Was there ever a situation where I HAD to force them to drop everything and lay down on the lawn? No. So the thirty second warning came into play, and nobody died.

“But they never talked!”

No, they didn’t. And they didn’t know ASL, and they didn’t like being touched.

So you know what happened?

My third day in, they tugged on my shirt. ‘Hey monkey, what’s up?’ I asked. And they tugged me towards the kitchen. ‘oh, cool. You hungry?’. They raised their hands in an ‘up’ gesture. ‘you want up? Cool.’ and I lifted them up. They pointed to the fridge. I opened it. They grabbed a juice box out of the top shelf, and pushed the door closed again. ‘oh sweet, grape is the best. You are an individual of refined taste.’ I put them down and they went back to their room to play Legos.

“But they didn’t say please or thank you!” “But you should be teaching them communication skills!” “But!” Lalalalala.

1. The entire interaction was entirely considerate and polite. I was never made uncomfortable. I was made aware of the problem so that I could help them solve it. There was no mess, no tears, no bruises, no shouting.

2. Did my brain collapse into a thousand million fragments of shattered diamond dust out of sheer incomprehension? No? Then their communication skills were fine. Goal realized, solution found, objective complete. They found the most simple and painless way to communicate the situation and then did it.

Kids are not stupid. AUTISTIC kids are not stupid.

I’m willing to bet real cash money that the real reason the last few nannies had quit had a million times more to do with their own ability to cope, not the kid’s.

To this day, that was the most relaxed and enjoyable job I’ve ever had.

And I know I don’t speak for everyone. All kids are different. All adults are different. But in my time and experience, pretty much 95% of all my difficulties with children come from ME not being understanding enough. Every single “problem child” I’ve worked with turned out to be a pretty cool person once I started figuring out how to put my ego aside and let them set the pace.

Again, not speaking universally, here. I’m just saying. Sometimes social rules are bullshit, you know? People are people

You know what? Destroy the "people in rural areas are all ignorant conservatives" stereotype and start mocking the "trad"/anti-feminist/neonazi people that are obsessed with rural areas despite having never been to one

Wear your motherfucking PPE

Achilles wouldn’t have died if he was wearing OSHA approved work boots.

Omega: Soooo, what do you think of Phee?

Tech: She is so pretty, I want to build Legos with her.


Tags
This Is The Best Thing I’ve Painted In My Entire Life

this is the best thing i’ve painted in my entire life

(also ive got prints of it heehoo)


Tags
11 months ago
MANDALORIAN LORE OF THE DAY: MESHGEROYA (A.K.A. BOLO-BALL OR LIMMIE)
bolo-ball A popular sport known as limmie outside the Core.
Climbing the ladder to one of the concussion missile bays, he found himself looking up at Rex as the clone commander leaned over from the gantry above. Rex, even without his distinctive blue-and-white 501st armor, was easy to spot among the ship's company. He had his helmet clipped to his belt, and he was sporting another new hairstyle. Instead of being shaven to a fine polish, as when Pellaeon had last seen him, his scalp was now covered with short fuzz of blue-dyed hair cut into stripes. "Very ... different, Rex," Pellaeon said. Ahsoka leaned over the rail beside Rex, although she had to stand on tiptoe to do it. She twitched her striped head-tails. "Nothing wrong with stripes, sir." "Bolo-ball final," Rex said. "I'm somewhat partisan. Bylluran Athletic." Pellaeon had no idea how Rex-bred on Kamino without any of the usual sense of geographic or species tribal-ism-decided which team to support. Bylluran was a Sullustan team. But most teams had fans who'd never been within ten parsecs of their home ground, and some couldn't even breathe the same atmosphere, so maybe that was ... normal. Stang, he's like any other being. A normal human male. It's hardwired in all of us, this need to ally and belong. "So, Rex, what do you think of the upgrades?" Rex replaced his helmet. "I can't judge the new concussion missiles until I see them take out a city or a capital ship, but I'm not convinced that the improved laser recharge time was worth the expenditure."
The parade ground was a platform edged with a low retaining wall and a border of manicured bushes, all trimmed to regulation height-there was such a thing, Scorch was certain-and it didn't see many parades. More often than not these days, it stood empty except for the occasional impromptu game of bolo-ball. The two veteran sergeants stood in the center of it with heads slightly bowed, oblivious of the commandos approaching. - "Meshgeroya," Besany said. "The beautiful game. That's what they call it here. Bolo-ball. Limmie. The ground's thawed enough to play." "They haven't got enough players for two teams." "Oh, that won't stop them." "Good grief, is Laseema going to play?" Scout seemed horrified. "And Jilka?" "I think they're going to be line judges. Parja's refereeing." "What line? It's just grass and mud out there." Besany and Ruu laughed. Meshgeroya was a Mandalorian obsession and certainly seemed to get a lot of boisterous energy out of their systems. When Ny looked out of the window, she was surprised to see Kina Ha and Uthan "What's shereshoy?" "A lust for life. Grabbing it and living it for the day, because you don't know if you'll be around tomorrow." "Shereshoy. I like that word." "If you ever see a Mando in orange armor, that's what the color means." Skirata held the last chunk of cookie to his nose and inhaled again. The aroma was obviously evocative. "You're a good woman, Ny." "You're not so bad yourself, Shortie." So this was shereshoy in action. The snow had melted, the sun was struggling to get noticed, and that faint promise of winter's end had sparked an impromptu game of meshgeroya and modest feasting. Ny liked that. Her life had always been spent deferring gratification, waiting for that mythical one day to come when she and her husband could spend good times together, but now that day had passed a few thousand times and would never come again. Ordo, sweat-streaked and visibly pleased with himself, halted the game to hand out mugs of ne'tra gal. Ny decided now was a good time to learn to enjoy the Mandos' sweet black beer, their crazy obsession with bolo-ball, and their eccentric hospitality that could, in the same heartbeat, take in both friends and traditional enemies. There would also come a time when she would have to come to terms with their ruthless, more brutal side. But that time could wait.
Beviin stopped the speeder in front of what could only be a cantina, its doors parted and the smell of cooking and brewing wafting onto the street Above the entrance was lettering Jaina couldn't read, and—helpfully—a few words of Basic: UNIVERSE TAPCAF-NO STRILLS INSIDE-BARTER ACCEPTED. Jaina followed Beviin inside. He took off his helmet, laid it on the counter, and ruined another stereotype for her: he wasn't some granite-faced thug but an ordinary gray-haired man about her mother's age, with the kind of face that looked on the edge of a big smile all the time. And the Fett-inspired
image of Mandalore that she'd nursed for so long kept crumbling. When her eyes adjusted to the light, she found herself in a cantina full of armored Man-dalorians, not all human, helmets stacked under tables. They were watching a big holovid screen in intent, reverent silence, mesmerized by a bolo-ball match. "Meshgeroya," Beviin whispered, as if he was interrupting an act of wor-ship. "The beautiful game. Our other national pastime."
The bolo-ball provided a neutral distraction. She was almost caught up in it, so deafened as the room turned from total silence to explosive yells of "Oya!" when the favored team scored, that the sensation that ran up her spine and made her hair bristle caught her by surprise.
"Come on, Kad'ika." Ny lifted Kad onto her hip. "Let the big kids play with the ball now." Fi tossed the ball in the air and headed it as if he was checking that he could still do it. "Love us, love our game." "I'll get used to it ..." Even Vau joined in. Ny watched, waiting for the crunch of old bones whenever Skirata and Gilamar were tackled by one of the clones. The lads were big, fast, and exceptionally fit, far too fit for the veteran sergeants. Ny could see a little midlife crisis raising its graying head there. But maybe the crazy old barves just loved playing meshgeroya, and the risk of a painful trouncing from the youngsters wasn't enough to stop them. The shouts and indignant appeals for penalties sent Mird into an excited frenzy. The strill slapped its whip-like tail on the ground and squealed to itself, occasionally racing around what seemed to be the edge of the pitch in its imagination. Kad watched the game intently, fist held to his mouth. Vau went for a high ball and headed it down between two bushes that seemed to be the only goal. He roared truimphantly. "Offside!" Corr protested. Ny had no idea how he worked out where the goal was, let alone whether Vau had broken some rule. She didn't really get the game at all. "Ref, that was offside." Parja allowed the goal, pointing imperiously toward a nonexistent center spot. "Wasn't. Play on." "Devious old men one, fit young upstarts nil," Vau said smugly. But he looked seriously out of breath.
"It's all they can think about," Mirta muttered. "I'm glad it's only once every five years." "What is?" "Galactic bolo-ball tournament. It's taken over the HoloNet." Wrong again, then. Jaina's misfortunes weren't as riveting as a sporting event. Life didn't center on her small circle, another reminder that there was a wider world she seldom saw. "Where's Fett?"
MANDALORIAN LORE OF THE DAY: MESHGEROYA (A.K.A. BOLO-BALL OR LIMMIE)

MANDALORIAN LORE OF THE DAY: MESHGEROYA (A.K.A. BOLO-BALL OR LIMMIE)

Sources: Star Wars: The Clone Wars novelization, The Clone Wars: No Prisoners, Republic Commando: True Colors, Order 66: A Republic Commando Novel, Imperial Commando: 501st, The Complete Star Wars Encyclopedia, Vol. I, Legacy of the Force: Revelation

8 months ago
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAYLOR GRAY!!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAYLOR GRAY!!!!

Area Fett

Area Fett

I couldn't find any reference with her with armor so I made my own design:)

Loading...
End of content
No more pages to load

weird autism dude

128 posts

Explore Tumblr Blog
Search Through Tumblr Tags