The last few years have seemed to be a real downer for everyone. So, indulge in the whiny and get it out of the way. There are some things we just can’t move on from until we’ve spent some time burning effigies. So, that’s what we’re going to do.
Tell us about a time when you’ve been heartbroken, angry, or even just annoyed. Tell us about something you just can’t seem to let go of or get over. Spread that grievous infection all around, and thin it out. Really lay into it. We’ll all feel better in the long run.
I was robbed blind in 2013. I lost valuable time — time to spend with my kids, time to spend with my husband, time to spend with myself, time to spend on my dreams, time to spend on my projects, time at work, time with friends, time to relax… you get the point. I had huge plans for 2013. I wanted a big, glamorous party for the 30th birthday. Nope! I wanted to take a long vacation to go see relatives over the summer. Denied! I wanted to watch my oldest on the ball field again. Guess again! I wanted to put my little girl into dance classes. No way! I wanted to watch my littlest play outside with his daddy. What’s wrong with me?! Silly woman — none of these things are allowed!
Allow me to take the time to whine, piss, and moan about how I’m apparently a foolish, naive little woman who’s clearly blind to the truth. Surely I should see the monster they see when they look at my husband of almost twelve years. Surely stating that my oldest has an Autism Spectrum Disorder means I hate him and make him a scapegoat. Yes, let’s come up with all sorts of far-fetched stories and asinine name-calling and labeling. That’s mature. That’s totally worth the tax dollars being fed to this agency. Never-you-mind the little boy being berated and beaten by his dad at the super store because his dad was inconsiderate enough to stop too soon for the poor boy to slow down the cart. Don’t pay any attention to the parents shouting, “LAY DOWN IN THE CART!” to their poor child screaming, “Ok! No! Don’t do it! I’ll listen! Don’t hurt me!” Nope, nothing to see there! Let’s take an average, ordinary family and magnify their problems. Let’s turn their molehills into mountains. Let’s use our ignorance of mental illness to this family’s disadvantage!
Perhaps this response can serve as the ranting, scathing bonfire that desperately needs to escape. Perhaps at least venting the surface can release enough steam to keep the eruption from spewing forth across the web. I haven’t even ranted about the pain and suffering I’ve witnessed my babies endure. These people want me to think that I’ve been this awful, ineffective parent when they have caused more pain and suffering for a little over a year than I could have EVER done in their short lives. I encourage my children to follow their dreams, to seek happiness, to grow into their own individuals. So what if my parenting style isn’t “perfect?” So what if my house looks like *kids* live here? Guess what — kids DO live here, and they DO have the right to play with their toys on the living room floor. If you have to step around them, that’s YOUR problem. THEY live here. YOU don’t. It’s like the pet issue — the pet lives in the home. The guest can either accept that fact or leave.
Here’s to embracing the whiny. Burn, baby, burn!
