why do i even try

Maybe I should have stuck with what works – staying home with my family, my new house, my projects, my peeps. But no – today I “ventured out” and have been rejected in minor yet thoroughly annoying ways. I’m considering going into hermitage.

First off, today was my first time helping at my daughter’s preschool as the assigned snack / helper parent. First let me say this group of parents seems to provide far less healthy food options than the co-op we were involved in for years in PT. That’s fine – I am no control freak and I know it’s hard to constantly think of healthy options to feed your family. In light of how acclimated to quick snack food the kids are at this school, today I wanted to make something that wasn’t plain bulgar or whatever – something homemade that the kids would actually eat. So I made an apple tart (puff pastry, apples topped with a crumble of brown sugar, oats, butter, almonds, and cinnamon) and whole-milk plain yogurt topped with craisins.

OK, so as the kids come to the table at 2:05 three children see the “raisins” on their yogurt and *IMMEDIATELY* start bitching about them. Two of these children *hounded* me about how nasty it was I’d put these on their yogurt (whoops – I only did it b/c I thought it looked pretty). Then one child takes a bite of the yogurt and lectures me loudly on how bad it tastes – I can only assume he’d been used to high-corn-syrup / sugar versions. At that point I was very appalled by their manners and thanked my lucky stars that I’d taught my kids no matter how much they *don’t* like what someone puts in front of them to eat (and sometimes they really don’t), it is not OK to YELL at the person who made it (these three children literally were yelling). I know this is dumb but for some reason it hurt my feelings or irritated me or something. Maybe because of the complete lack of gratitude? Thinking of the households these children must be raised in? (I’m careful on the judgement thing though – God Only Knows in what ways my children reveal my own lacking parenting). All the other children ate up – or picked off craisins, or whatever – without comment.

So after a big day at school with my two kids and these five others I get home and check my gmail – usually a positive, relaxing experience. I immediately see the admin of a recent Flickr sewing group I’d joined had sent me a poisonous email regarding an image I posed with “offensive” language (whoops – I did have “fuck” in the title – I’d named it so before I’d joined the group). Now, I had read the FAQ / guidelines before joining and there had been no mention of “offensive” language so I didn’t think about it. The email was one of those prim, uptight messages about how if I “keep using offensive language” I will be BANNED from the group. Ooo, so powerful! So mighty, admin! Who gives a shit!

Of course I edited my tag and re-uploaded the photo. I am not wanting to offend anyone and had I been alerted to this upon joining I would have happily edited away first. Just wanting to share my love of sewing with others who sew. GODDAMNIT!

"… without adding, ‘you’re making a scene.’"

It’s 3:45 PM and I’m at a little celebratory ice cream social at a sweet li’l uptown shop that is celebrating a successful first leg of business. I’m here by personal invitation (which I’m very touched about). The owner of the store is giving a small, tactful speech thanking each person there. Everyone is smiling. Then.

My son. Is the one. Writhing on his back, thumping his head against the flooring, and squalling. Brandishing two markers threateningly. The room is mostly adults who are probably alternating between pretending I don’t exist and wishing I didn’t. Of course, three other toddlers are there (one, my lovely daughter who is behaving herself very well), but they are pulling it together for the five minutes needed. But it’s my kid. Right now. That is the problem.

Today Michelle said, “You must be pretty worn out by the end of the day.”