I will put it right there out in the open.
I used to think I was a "victim" of bullies but I've been monitoring my communications lately and I've decided I'm a gosh darned e-bully.
I don't call people names or spread nasty rumors about them but I argue with people on Facebook and tell them their viewpoints are "disingenuous" (let's be real- I use other words too- especially if it's family and I feel all comfy and privileged)
I've caught myself saying that I feel sorry for someone for having a certain viewpoint- to their FACE even!
There's a word for me.
Obnoxious.
Who made me the Facebook communications police?
Anytime someone posts something I think is "wrong" I feel the need to start a tete a tete over it.
Now that I have "timeline" I'm all- EWWWW! I said that????? Someone slap me!
I would like to say I can't help it but yes I most certainly can!
So NO more of THAT, please!
I have a tiny human to raise.
This one.
Do I want her running around calling people names when she doesn't agree with them?
No!!!
Yet I'm more focused on how other children treat HER and forget that every single process for change STARTS WITH ME.
A story.
I took Miss Thang to Brooklyn Bridge Park.
There are these posts that turn and have rubber handles which kids LOVE to hold on to as they get dragged mercilessly round and round and ROUND on the floor.
FUUUUN! Right?
I hate them but Lola is obsessed and wants to use them all the time.
So did this little 5 or 6 year old girl who shoved Lola several times until she tripped and fell.
The playground floor has 3 inches of light colored rubber material on it.
Lola bounced.
I LOST IT.
NO NO NO! Bad! Very bad! NO PUSHING!
Ok before you object at my yelling at some one else's (EVIL) small child I would like to add that I used my "Dixie voice". Dixie was the family German Shepherd who loved kids so much she would jump on their shoulders and lick their terrified screaming faces- she was SO FRIENDLY in that wonderful Godzilla sort of way.
The little girl jumped up in surprise and looked at her Dad who was standing 5 feet away with this HUH? look on his face.
Reminding me why I married him- Dave stepped in and explained as I was about to open the proverbial can of whoop on the dude.
The father hadn't been paying attention.
He was texting and missed the whole thing.
I walked away with my crying baby and felt guilty for having yelled at a small (EVIL) human and raving internally at parents who mentally check out at the playground.
A mother approached me.
I'll admit it. I cringed.
I'm all sass and attitude in digiland but in real life I avoid conflict.
Mostly because I'm scared I'll get that slap I asked for previously.
The Mom told me that the little girl had no playmates because she had been shoving kids all day.
Her Dad hadn't been paying attention or speaking to her after each incident.
She said she was glad my husband was speaking to the dude and showed me her 3 year old son's scratched up face.
I had no words.
I realized I better FIND a way to speak to parents calmly after a conflict because
1- I didn't want to be the googly-eyed yelly parent in the playground
or
2- the parent who has to apologize after her kid shoves another in the playground.
Which I was 2 days in a row this week.
Because Lola has started throwing hissy fits whenever she decides some other kid's toy is hers.
She shoves kids!
She hits them in the face!!!!
Right in front of me!
As I yell NO! NO HITTING OTHER KIDS! Say you are sorry! (that last part has GOT to be the stupidest thing I will ever say)
So I get the beady eyeball from other Moms.
I HATE the beady eyeball.
And the angry huff.
I HATE the huff!!!
And the pulling kids away from my demon spawn problem child.
This one:
It hurts me so much to see Lola standing alone and having no idea why her "playmates" left.
What if Lola is the school recluse who thinks shoving kids is proper social interaction?
It's all my fault!
I yell too much!
I snatch things. (like scissors... open dirty diapers.... the broom she was using to bash the brand new Blue-Ray player Dave finally saved enough money to buy)
I baby her too much.
I don't hug her enough.
I hug her too much.
She has no other playmates.
She's bored. She's tired. She's hungry.
SHE'S TWO!!!!!! (and a half)
But still!
Where did she learn shoving and kicking and slapping faces is the way to get what she wants?
I don't do that!
I called my Mom kinda late (10pm) last week to discuss this.
Lola wakes up and starts making the absolute MOST ANNOYING SOUND IN THE KNOWN UNIVERSE:
wwheee haaawwwww
EEEEEEHHH HAAAAAAAAWWWWW
wah waaah EEEEEW HAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!
Yes it's JUST as grating in person!
She sounds JUST LIKE the donkey we heard in the hills of Napoli as we walked around looking for pizza that didn't cost 18 US dollars a slice.
Yeah you think I'm kidding but I'm NOT.
You're in Ravello now, cheapo American!
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| Do you hear the donkeys braying Clarice? Ravello. |
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| Us in Ravello. Remind me to tell you how my Mom reacts to romantic bus rides through long and twisty roads with no railing and fearless moped traffic. FUN. TIMES. |
"Michelle you really need to lay the law down with that baby or she will EAT YOU ALIVE before she hits 14."
(Insert mental image of Lola at 14 here.) (Shivers!!!!)
"You don't have to yell or spank her. You have to be firm! BE FIRM Michelle!
You baby that child too much! She's almost 3!
Which reminds me..."
She launches into amusingly HORRID death and dismemberment story she read from random Puerto Rican news paper which is meant as a modern latinized Grim's Fairy Tales of parenting.
Her intention is to SHOCK and AWE me into correct parenting practices with this latest tale of death and/or parental incompetence. (Which usually ends in said parents getting locked up.)
I'm tired, frazzled and scared crapless.
I'm FAILING AS A PARENT!
My child is going to hell in a hand basket and I'm the delivery person!!!
Everyone goes to bed. (but I stay awake several hours trying to figure out how to stop the donkey brays and the constant face slapping of fellow playground denizens)
The next day grandma visits.
YAY! We love grandma visits!!
Really!
I very much love my Mom. Grimm's Cuentitos De Adas Muertas aside- she's freaking awesome.
Lola starts the donkey braying. Again.
This time because I snatched away a screw driver my husband had left out (This is very RARE. The Mr is very good at putting tools away but I'd been "instructing" him on "proper air conditioner installation" and he got distracted.)
Lola had been trying valiantly to insert said screw driver into her left eye socket when I realized- AHA! A perfect moment to implement proper parental discipline practices!
"No Lola!"
"Give me that RIGHT NOW!"
"NOOOO!!!! Do NOT put it in your EYE!!!!!"
"AAAIIEEEEE!!! "
(this is all me by the way)
snatch!
"wwheee haaawwwww
EEEEEEHHH HAAAAAAAAWWWWW!!!!!!!!!"
Feeling terrible and getting down to her level:
"Stop braying! I mean... I'm sorry honey- here- have this BLUNT PLASTIC TOY instead."
"wwheeeeeee haaawwwww
EEEEEEHHH HAAAAAAAAWWWWW"
Only LOUDER and with more accent on the "eeee" bit.
"Awww!" (much hugging and piercing of my eardrums with WHEEE AAAWWWs)
Then my Mom adds, curiously:
"You really can't stand to hear her crying, can't you? What's wrong with letting her show her emotions?"
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| No she didn't get her own subscription- this is a recycled box. |
Michelle
