I consider myself a pretty patient woman (unless at the grocery but we all have weaknesses). As a mom, I do my best to go with the flow...to a point and that "point" is not very far when children who are not mine are involved.
As I've noted before, the moms at the bus stop and I do not "click". We are cordial. I don't have much in common with them. We all have different parenting dynamics and should respect that. It seems the only adult thing to do. I have tolerated their high school antics and will be glad when school is out. Sticks and stones.
For instance, I didn't say anything one day when a mom permitted her young son (too young for the bus) to bring along his full sized hockey stick to the stop. He is one third its size and can handle it less than half the time. He nearly struck one of the smaller girls in the face, let alone what he'd tried to do to his brother. His mom told him "tip down". He refused to listen. She informed him she would count to three and began. I turned away because in my house ... well, we KNOW don't we? But I heard the strangest thing: eight, eight-and-a-half, nine, nine-and-three quarters, ten. He did not stop and as his carelessness escalated, our bus stop resembled a scene from a bad police movie where the rookie cop wields a gun while everyone else shrinks and ducks for cover. She's counting all right, but still talking. (About what, I have no idea. I was too busy bobbing and weaving, wondering whose line he could play on for the Hawks) She reached over to take the stick. He swung at her belly while screaming 'NO!". She luckily caught it and wrestled it from him. As she turned to continue her conversation with an eye roll and an inconvenienced sigh, he kicked her; right in the ass and called her stupid. It took everything I had. I glanced at my son who was as white as albino snow. He shook his head and covered his own rear end. I patted his head and said into his precious little ear: "You're a good guy Boo. I'm proud that you're my son."
I didn't interfere when, (on a different day)playing a game, certain kids picked on others (gotta fight their own battles) calling them stupid, bitches, or retards. The insults and bullying continued to the point of tears for one young boy. That drew a great phrase from Mom of the year:
"It's a phase. Maybe your son will learn not to be so sensitive."
The other mom gave a small smile and comforted her kindergartner. Nope. I sighed and counted just like Mom...to ten using fractions. AS much as the desire consumed me, I didn't even trip those monsters. I truly wanted to step on their lunchboxes, but thought better of it. I wanted to say something to Mom, but seemed to be the only one noticing this atrocious behaviour. I withdrew even more. I did notice my kids stopped hanging with them after school. They stopped talking to them in the morning. I can't say I was sad.
I turned the other cheek when they played basketball with my convertible and a tennis ball. I didn't get horribly upset when, throwing rocks, they also hit my "baby". Each time, I was polite. I asked them to stop and to please go elsewhere to play. My voice may have been a bit clipped and my fists were clenched so tightly that I could feel my pulse in my rings. Mom never offered to correct the mistake on her own. She never apologized. Not once. In the end, she did one better:
"Maybe you'll learn not to bring your car to the bus stop so they could play. That would be nice" she flipped with a careless mean laugh. She turned and kept talking.
......let's pause here. Do you feel me? (if you know me, you do ) THIS is the point when I boiled over.
"And maybe, just MAYBE over the summer you could teach your children to respect others' feelings and property. Wouldn't THAT be nice? I know I'D like to see it." I equalled her biting nasty pompous laugh and as I did it, I laid my hand on her arm throwing a girly shrug.
Wow. It felt good. One of the most delicious bites I've ever taken. She recoiled from me, staring at me with a look like her mouth was filled with crap flavored gum. I felt my cheeks flush but it was with fury and I was ready to take this a step further. I had had enough.
"I NEVER..." she gawked.
"I know. It's painfully obvious." and I turned on my heel. The bus driver opened the door and the kids got on. I waved to Boo and without turning around headed to my car. I drove to work feeling the hate and daggers. It didn't hurt. Must be my old age. ;)
That was a couple of days ago. She has been taking her children to school waving and stopping to chat with the other moms as she drives by me ( she seems to chew that nasty gum a lot...)
Today, one mom touched my arm.
"Ummm"
I turned and looked a bit startled. I'm used to silence or hanging with Boo.
"I wanted to say something about what you said the other day."
I braced myself.
"I thought it was funny." and she smiled.
"I lost my temper and embarrassed myself but I couldn't help it."
"Her kids are frickin monsters. My son won't even play with them anymore."
I shrugged. "I'm sorry."
It was her turn to shrug. "I guess we're all looking forward to the end of the year."
More than you know Sistah was what I thought but returned a diplomatic "I guess."
Better days and stronger martinis. Thanks for listening to me rant.
