In which I relive my childhood, when no one liked me, through my kid, who doesn’t give a rip. Oh, and RANT. A lot.

So, Thursday I find out I have a precancerous condition. I have spent a great deal of time convincing myself that precancerous does not equal cancerous. Important to know, but on Thursday I was really just flipping out.

You also need to know that I have lost about 25 pounds since Christmas because it hurts to eat. And that sort of sucks. As much as I need to lose weight, it really sort of sucks to be losing weight not on purpose.

And scary.

And I have talked about this with the moms I see all the time, partly for support from those I love, and partly to get the ones I don’t love (okay, one) to stop mentioning how awesome I look, because y’know, I’d really just not be reminded every single day that something is going on and up until Thursday no one really knew what. In other words, please just shut up about my weight loss.

And Thursday was just hard for this reason. I’m imagining not living to see my kids grow up. Which, while possible, is really no more likely than any other person in my neighborhood. It did not feel like that on Thursday. On Thursday, it felt like I might have 5 years to live, if I were lucky.

Enter that One I spoke of up above, y’know, two paragraphs ago. Let’s call her Ruby. No offense to people named Ruby.

So, Ruby comes in and starts talking about how she was working on losing weight, because I’ve inspired her. My fucking precancerous illness has INSPIRED her to lose weight. My sitting on my ass and not eating has INSPIRED her. To what? Get her own illness? To go to the ER for stomach pain at 3 AM, dragging two kids along in tears and pyjamas?

So now I’m scared and more than a little miffed. I also, as most days recently, am hurting. Because I hurt almost constantly. It’s better than it had been, but it’s still there.

But not a good mood.

And it’s time to leave. And Leveret wants to bring this disgusting dog bowl home that he found. But our rule is that we don’t bring anything that isn’t ours home from the park (thank goodness, because it was so gross). But he’s not having any of it. And Ruby’s annoying son, Ian, grabs it from where Lev placed it and starts running around. He’s 4. So, yes, that’s not his fault. Except that I’ve been annoyed for some time at the lack of respect his mother is instilling in him. But I try REALLY hard not to judge other people in their parenting. REALLY hard. But it’s especially hard when the kid is hitting OTHER PARENTS, GRANDPARENTS and MY KIDS without being told not to by his mom. Especially when, if we call it to her attention, she tells us that that’s how they play at home or denies that it happens, or asks him and believes HIM over ADULTS. And, so, I think it’s my right to not want to play with your kid if you’re not going to tell him not to hit.

I could go on and on about the things that annoy me about this woman. She has no respect for herself, she ends every suggestion to her kid with “okay?” As in, “don’t hit the little girl with your stick, okay?” … okay, I already am going on and on… boring!

Anyway. Thursday. Bad day. And Lev is now flipping out. Because this stupid bowl was GOLD. It was AWESOME! It was made of fucking TIN! And had been at the PARK! And… well you could put WATER IN IT! Who knows why this thing was so awesome. But it was. And I wasn’t letting him take it home, and then someone else came and basically “Na na na naanaa!ed” all over it. So I picked him up and was hugging him while we walked out of the gate and Ruby comes running out the gate and yells “Wait, wait, I have a penny! Do you want the penny?” And it’s like, no. He doesn’t want the penny, or maybe he does, but you know what? He’s flipping out and we don’t reward that behavior. I don’t stop you from giving your kid a cookie after he beats the shit out of mine, so don’t come interrupting me when I’m trying to take care of mine.

And I lost it. I fully accept that fact that I was out of line, but, well, it was a bad day. And I should have better control, but it’s taking a long time to get that. And I don’t have it yet. “Stop! I do not want this behavior, I am trying to get him to stop it, please stop rewarding him for it!” I yelled. And I shouldn’t have, but I’ve had enough of this crap. And she told it was the first time she’d done it…which is true. For that day.

And I have felt TERRIBLE since then. I am not a religious woman, but I have basically been praying since Thursday to be forgiven for this and to not have cancer. Equally. Because this isn’t me. I don’t like to yell at people.

But I’m also ashamed and couldn’t bring myself to say anything about it. And I kept trying. But I’m  a child of an alcoholic. We ignore the problem. We feel ashamed and keep the secret. And I’d say hi. And I’d wave, but I wouldn’t talk.

And today we went to this crappy little sand park (and brought half of it back home with us), and no one ever goes there and we never go there and yet somehow, out of the 12 families normally at the big park and out of the 3 that showed up at the damn little park, we both happen to be there. And her kid uses a giant shovel to throw sand at mine. And then says, “I’m gonna throw sand at YOU!!!!” And gears up to do it. I wait. And then he says it again and steps much closer. And so I say “Ian, please don’t throw sand at my boy.” Because honestly, it’s better to prevent than take care of fucking sand-in-the-eyes-itis. God I hate that.

And here she comes over. And I try to apologize, to tell her it had been a bad day and she interrupts me and doesn’t let me talk. And she tells me not to talk to her or her kid anymore. Not to tell him what to do. To tell her first. Because she has been nothing but nice to me. She has talked to people that don’t want to invite my boy to their parties and convinced them to do it.

And suddenly I don’t care anymore. I think she’s a moron. But who is lying to me about liking my kid? Who was forced to invite my kid? I think that’s terrible! No one should need to have my kid over if they don’t want him. Especially for a party. I remember so many bad experiences that could have been prevented if people weren’t forced to invite me over for their party.

And here I come to rant. And see if anyone else has any ideas. I don’t care about saving this relationship, I think I can keep it together whenever I see her. But seriously I’m in tears thinking about how someone doesn’t like my kid or me and I might be forcing myself upon them. And I feel like crap. It isn’t that I think everyone should like us, we’re hard to like. But you shouldn’t lie about it.

Of course, everyone else thinks she was lying, but why would you just make up that shit?

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