Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Is it Wednesday?

To all of you who commented and were so supportive of my Sam and I yesterday: thank you, so much. Sam is okay today, although he has a bruised arm and a wee bit of whiplash, or something like it. His neck is quite sore, anyway, to where it hurts to turn his head too quickly. He had a hard time falling asleep last night, though, and an even harder time getting up this morning. The kid is afraid, for which I don't blame him in the least. So physically, he will be fine, nothing worse than one of his many bike wrecks. Emotionally, I think he is still shaken. I don't think he has ever really been hit by someone who was intent on hurting him (besides a sibling, of course), so he is still shocked. And afraid. He begged me to take him to school this morning instead of going to the bus stop with him to talk to The Boy about the incident. I acquiesced, only because I understand his fear and the awareness that it will just make the situation worse in some ways. School is out tomorrow, and with hope the problem will end here. I have, however, put the word out in my own little gangster way (well, not really, but I DO have friends!) that if I see anything like this happening again, whether the victim is my son or not, there will be hell to pay. I also left a message for his mom; we'll see what happens there. I don't have a lot of faith in that, to be honest. I had to call the parent of a girl who was harassing Hannah a few months back, and that was a lesson in futility. But maybe...

To the asshole who put the beer bottle underneath my tire: Thanks so much. My dryer is broken, and I was hoping to be able to get it fixed. Instead, I had to get a new tire. That is really, really thoughtful, and I hope you feel well-pleased with your juvenile behavior. You accomplished so much by pissing me off; really. You should be proud of yourself, that doing something like that makes you feel like your dick grew ten inches overnight. Just an FYI here: I don't have the drug money that my ex-husband took from you, nor do I have the drugs, and the last I heard, he lives somewhere in Nevada with the hooch who helped him steal your stash. Leave me and mine alone. Oh, and if you DO find him, please let him know that he owes me $16,000, will ya?

To the man who thought I was being nice when I stopped at the intersection and let him through: I wasn't being nice. You have your insurance with us, and I know how many accidents you have on your record. I am not nice, I am afraid. Really.

To the woman who cried with me last night: If I could make this better or easier for you, I would. I don't understand why you stay with him after what he has done, but I love you anyway. And I can't imagine being confronted with the physical evidence of his infidelity on a regular basis, but I do what it feels like to have been betrayed. I can't fix it for you, but I can maybe help you get through it. Also, thank you for being a person whom I could talk to and say, "I suck at being a single parent and I need some help." I did not know that about you, and I am glad for the opportunity to see you for who you are, not what your life looks like.

To Philip Morris and Juan Valdez: Thank you for cigarettes and coffee I wouldn't make it through my day without either of them, and frankly, I don't think I would want to try. Silly to wax rhapsodic over nicotine and caffeine, but there are few things in life better than the first cig and the first cup of coffee of the day; preferably taken together.


See, the thing is, if I don't laugh about some of this stuff, I will cry. Yesterday, we had a freak cloudburst, the rain falling in sheets and the gutters running over within moments, and I found myself NOT enjoying the way the air smelled, or the fresh, glittering look of the world, but instead thinking,"Well shit, the clothes I had on the line are going to have to be rewashed, and since the dryer is broke I can't hang more out tonight, and the laundry pile is getting out of control..." which is just insane. God is in the details, in the small things, and I have been focusing so much on the big things that I have been missing out. I am trying to change the attitude a little bit, make light of some of the things over which I have no control, be grateful for the love and support I get form people and also rejoice in the opportunity to do the same. So today is going to be as good a day as I can make it, and we'll see what happens.

9 comments:

April said...

You're not just okay - you're doing amazingly well given all that crap! Love you, hon.

Tara R. said...

I wish I could say something profound and helpful. Know that I do understand what you're going through (if only as a child of a deadbeat father). It totally sucks what you have to endure right now, but it does pass and it does get better.

Anonymous said...

Life is a bitch, but the attitude you go through with makes all the difference. You're going to make Kori, one step, one day at a time. 50 years from now, you'll look back and think "That wasn't so bad! Things are a lot worse now that I'm in diapers."

FreedomFirst said...

Wow, people do suck! Are you sure it was a creditor who put the bottle under your tire, and not someone connected to the punk who beat on Sam? Either way, they suck.

I hope you see a rainbow somewhere. :)

Anonymous said...

Love your tribute to P. Morris and the coffee man...Couldn't live without them!

Anonymous said...

Love your tribute to P. Morris and the coffee man...Couldn't live without them!

MarĂ­a said...

I ♥ you.

Martin said...

Fingers crossed for Sam. Tackling it head on will have to happen I think. These things don't 'go away'

You do need to be able to laugh at all the shitty stuff. I know if I couldn't I'd be lost.

Mama Smurf said...

Cheers...."here's to hoping that tomorrow is a better day!"