I usually approach problems and life ...
in one of two ways; either I go full force & head on or I shut down and hide in my room (it depends on the problem).
My mom and sister like to laugh about how similar to my aunt I am. She's quite the feisty woman and not prone to sitting by and allowing injustice to happen in front of her. They say I am like that.
I suppose I might be. I do have a tendency to get in the middle of things. Like today for instance--I was dropping off Vicbowin at school and saw this boy swing a punch at another kid and holler "Give me back my hat!" The first thing that registered in my head was the look on the hatless boys face, that look that seems desperate to gain control of life again.
I have to admit, I became that mother everybody despises. That mother that gets out of her car to scold someone else's kid. Yep, that was me today. I walked right up to the fence and told those boys to move along (they were all supposed to be inside today for recess). The group of harassing boys looked at me like I'd grown a clowns nose on my forehead but I was in full Mom mode by then and I think they must have seen it. Some high-tailed it the second I showed up, the braver ones tried to argue that they weren't fighting. They dispersed rather easily despite their pluck and I was left standing there in my pajamas (yes, I was even in my PJ's) hoping Vicbowin hadn't seen me, or that the boys hadn't seen her.
I'm that kind of woman.
When I was a kid there were these boys that used to pick on my little sister and her friend. Everyday after school they would haul all their books home so they could swing their backpacks at my sister. I remember her screaming for me to come help and I'd race to her aid swinging my equally full backpack (two can play at that game).
It has always made me furious to see the bigger, stronger abuse the smaller. Even amongst my own kids I get angry when Albowin hits Iyawin.
It may surprise many of you to know that I have a scar on my face from a fist-fight. It was another one of those moments in life where the big were picking on the little. Except that I was the little and the 'big' were a bunch of popular girls in my gym class. We were playing floor hockey (how appropriate) and they were going out of their way to shove me around. I snapped. I turned and screamed at one of the girls (screamed like one of those socially backward kids that did that sort of thing in school) and then the shoving started. I have no clue who started the shoving, I just remember I wasn't going to be pushed around anymore. Before the teacher could even blink their was blood involved. We were both suspended from school. I have the scar because the next day I was expected to go to a 'mediation' with her and I wasn't about to have a scabbed over wound on my face, so I picked the scab off (ouch) and covered it with makeup.
I've learned to better control my own pluck since then but you can guarantee that if I see some kid being mean to another I will stop the car.
You know what the nice thing about standing up to injustice is? I never feel guilty afterwards.
And yet I can still remember the time when I was a young mother driving down the road and I saw these two boys circling this little girl in an alley. They were taunting her and pulling on her braids while she clutched her books to her chest. I didn't stop. To this day, nearly a decade later, I would pay good money to go back and change that moment.
I remember that often and have learned to plow right through instead of being haunted by more memories like that.
So now you know... I scold your kids when you aren't around to do it yourself.
As for children, today is the Mischievite's 3rd birthday. He is very excited. Today I am devoted to making him happy (and doing a bunch of other stuff, but we won't tell him that).
On the list:
Bake a cake
Get ready for the cooking group I'm running tonight
Decorate a cake
Buy and wrap a birthday present (without him noticing)
Clean and vacuum living room
Internet- I really miss you. xoxox