I was just looking for visual supports for Elvis on the internet, and I came across a site that sells autism awareness merchandise–which is all well and good, I’m hip to awareness, I’m hip to merchandise–but some of the items were a little odd.  I mean, bumper stickers and keychains are one thing–well, actually, they’re two things, but you know what I mean.  On the one hand you have your bumper stickers and keychains and license plate holders, and on the other hand you have your totes and coffee mugs and your sterling silver and Swarovski crystal bracelets.  That’s all fine.  But then it starts to get a little weird. 

You’ve got your Autism “No-Sew” Fleece Scarf.  Your Autism Classic Blanket.  Your Autism Fanny Pack.  This is all just amusing to me.  Then there’s the Autism Photo Frame Magnet.  Now, there’s nothing wrong with the basic concept here.  A photo frame using the autism-puzzle motif is no tackier than a tie tack with the same pattern.  One might argue that it’s less tacky.  What I find just remotely disconcerting is that you have this autism-puzzle pattern with the word AUTISM emblazoned over it.  So you have a picture of your loved one and there’s this handy label hanging over their head.  I’m sorry there isn’t a better picture of it.  Maybe up close and personal it looks less bizarre, but I don’t know.  Now, obviously, you don’t have to use this frame for a photo of a loved one with autism.  You could put a photo of your St. Bernard in there.  That would actually be kind of funny, now that I think on it.  But isn’t it still kind of weird? 

I shouldn’t pick on this poor puzzle frame when there are so many more offensive autism-related products out there. I’ve seen autism-awareness t-shirts that made me want to punch someone.  Fortunately, I’ve never seen them on an actual child.  Child-punching is against my principles.

My awesome sister sent me a six-pack of Reeses Peanut Butter Eggs.  Have I mentioned lately how much I love the crass commercialization of the holiest day in all Christendom?  What makes Reeses Peanut Butter Eggs better than regular Reeses Peanut Butter Cups is that they’re twice as thick and therefore twice as therapeutic.  Which is good because I have some serious self-medicating to do these days.

I got an e-mail from the district special education facilitator, who says she’s turned in Princess Zurg’s application to the School for Incorrigible Girls, and if she is accepted (and we choose to select this placement), she will probably start March 31.  Her bus transportation wouldn’t start until a week later, so in the interim we have two options:  1) drive her ourselves and get reimbursed for mileage, or 2) send her in a cab at the district’s expense.  What’s funny about this is that when we visited SIG last month, we saw a cab pulling out of the parking lot, and I just said off-handedly, “What if we just had PZ take a cab to school?”  Too bad they won’t pay for a limo.  That’d be sweet. 

If your child is a Thomas the Tank Engine fan, you should watch this video.  Note that I didn’t say your child should necessarily watch this video.  I’m not sure my two-year-old appreciated the satire, but at least it had a happy ending, so she wasn’t too traumatized.