regardless

Ok, what a weird weekend. It started off well enough. I mean, I’ve been in a rough mood all week, what with the g.i. diet, no more sugar from junk food, no junk food for that matter, cutting back carbs (how many pieces of toast do I need anyway?), and eating more veggies and fruit (the diet tells me to use a sweetener but I can’t stand the taste, so I don’t use any): and with the heart monitor for a day, another crick in my neck (where oh where are you cloud bed?), and the horrible headaches from no sugar, it was indeed a weird week. As a side note, I’m pleased to say that I’ve lost 10 pounds in the process. not in a week. But I’m not seeing any changes. Except I’m not as bloated. And I poop twice a day. Yay fibre! So I’m glad that I only have 13 to go.

Regardless.

So Friday I was in an awesomely happy mood. I spent the day by myself. I wrote two amazing chapters of my new book, then I went for a walk with our neurotic dog in the dog park, then picked up the gaffer to go home. Rockstar hubby finished early so I was very happy. Except we had to go to a family function at his house. With people who don’t talk to me. One family member in particular can’t talk to me. I’m ‘unapproachable’. I hate that. I hate being classified like that. Like when I helped organize bring 30 ladies out tree walking, one of them said, ‘oh be on time or she’ll freak out’. That’s not a nice thing to say. It reminds me of being told that to be near me, one has to walk on eggshells. That really cuts.

Regardless.

This family member of rockstar hubby’s, couldn’t tell me that they were angry that I told their child to stop being a tattletale.

Background:

Went to a family function. Gaffer was playing with two other children. One child (the tattletale), came up to me to tell me what gaffer had done wrong. So I went to check it out. Gaffer wasn’t really doing anything wrong. He was upset because the other two wouldn’t play with him. (and that always hurts a mom’s heart, turning her into bear cub mama, when other kids won’t play with her own child) so I said to the child tattletale, he just wants to play with you. Half an hour later, child tattletale comes up to me and says, ‘gaffer broke a necklace’ and I said, ‘so you’re tattling on him’. he said, ‘um, no.’ and the child’s mom was there and she rolled her eyes and said, ‘he’s going through a phase with being a tattletale, we’re working on it’. So I turn to him and say, ‘you know what? You don’t need to be a tattletale. If gaffer is doing something dangerous, then you can tell me, ok?’ and he leaves.

I find out two weeks later from rockstar hubby that the father of tattletale called him to say that when he got home, tattletale child was hiding under the table because he was afraid that daddy would be mad that he tattletaled. Apparently tattletale child was ‘traumatized’ by the event. And could I please not say that to their son anymore. That I need to respect their own parenting skills and to leave it alone.

Huh.

So yah, I got pissed. But for the right reasons. I was pissed off because he couldn’t tell me himself. I got pissed off because the kid’s mother was right there when I said it, and she agreed with me afterwards. I got pissed off because she wasn’t the one telling me that. I got pissed off because if someone is being bad, to my face, I am going to tell them. That’s how you parent with love. I didn’t tell him he had to play with gaffer, I didn’t tell him that he was being mean by excluding him (although I really wanted to), I told him he didn’t need to tattletale, to try and get gaffer in trouble so that gaffer would stop ‘bothering’’ them.

Psh…I didn’t think there would be family politics now. Sigh. Whatever. So at the family function, I spent half an hour in the bathroom reading, barely ate anything because it was all chips and dip. Then I ate a sausage, and I got sick. Oooh was I sick.

For mother’s day, it was lovely. Rockstar hubby gave me a lovely gift card for chapters, gaffer got me body shop bergamont body ‘rinse’ (clean your armpits mommy, they’re stinky!) and the dog got me a set of salt and pepper shakers in the forms of cows. Cows that are so fat, their legs don’t touch the ground because they are sitting on their big pink udders. I love them. At church I got to teach, which involved me feeding them two boxes of crackers and tracing their hands onto paper and colouring them and framing them. Then we came home. A very nice friend gave me a bag of clothes which she didn’t want anymore. That made me happy. They were very new and very beautiful. It wasn’t like someone gave me some crappy castoffs that had missing buttons or holes in the jeans or were just so ugly they got rid of them. So I was tickled pink. Steak and salad supper and half way through ‘catch and release’.

I had an interesting conversation on Saturday with a lady and it super pissed me off. More than the weird relations argument. I was talking to her about kids. She asked me if we were having any more (can we please talk about something else?) and I said, I don’t know. Then I mentioned my huge heart for India. The girls. That maybe that’s where my extra kids will be.. and then I said that if we didn’t have any debt (student loans, cars etc) I’d be begging hubby to pack up with me and move to India to live there and work there. and this lady says, ‘well, it’s so awful over there.’ and I said, I know. And she says,’but it’s a poor country. It’s filthy’. And I said, I know. And she says, ‘but it’s disgusting! There is a garbage truck that comes by daily to pick up dead bodies’. And I’m like, hello? I know! What’s your point? And I almost snapped on her. I wanted to say, yes but what am I going to do? Live in a bubble, safe over here in Canada where no one can hurt me? I’ll just keep buying my tommy pull my finger clothes and buy a bigger house and have garden parties on my new deck? (incidentally I do have a few tommy sh irts but that’s because they were on sale at the salvation army) and I wanted to slap her. It doesn’t matter to me that it’s ugly and scary. I need to be loving little kids. I need to be spreading God’s love. Hello????
Then we got onto a conversation about homeschooling and private school. The gaffer might be going to a lovely private Christian school in the fall and we went to visit it on Thursday. I’m sorry to say that I found absolutely nothing wrong with it, so it makes the idea of homeschooling a lot more unclear. I expressed how I liked how the teachers were involved, that there was a no tolerance policy and they were strict. And I said how important it is to protect our kids for as long as we can, because we need to instill them with the confidence that comes from God, not from peers or the media. I read in dr. james dobson’s book, bringing up boys, that when his dad was a kid, he was severely bullied at school. The teachers would not get involved and nothing would be done so the grandfather picked up the family and moved. That is love. That is showing your kids how important they are. If gaffer was being picked on a lot at a place, I’d move him. keep him safe. I was severely bullied in school, and I was not protected at all. And it’s only by the grace of God that I am safe now. That I am not who I was. But how many people suffer from this? From awful schools? From bad teachers? So she got all, ‘oh the kids need to suck it up. they need to be in the real world to figure it out. ‘ and it made me soooo mad. Why do I keep having these conversations with people? How can someone knowingly send their kids to a school where they are not protected? To schools where there are mean kids, kids who bring guns to schools, who hurt people, who are not regulated? Sigh. I love my son so much that I would move across country for him if I had to/needed to. I think that not enough people put their families first and it makes me so sad.

Ok, I’m getting off the soapbox now.