The Right to Be Heard [RANT]

As a child, I used to throw tantrums. Not little ones either. I would scream, cry, kick, and make a ruckus. And let me tell you, tiny little legs can be a massive destructive power against the walls of a trailer. But that was the only way I could make people hear me. Blood pouring from my mouth, knees, or feet generally caused minimum interest. Asking for help fell on deaf ears. It feels like I am back there now.

When you calmly try to tell people that everything isn’t okay, they nod hopefully and offer advice. They mean well, but you can tell that they aren’t seeing the problem because you aren’t screaming it at the top of your lungs. If there isn’t blood, how could you be hurting? And, of course, if anyone else is involved in the issue, we have to give them consideration and time to be better. But what about the one who has been trying to be better all along? And is now being told to dig in some more and it might take a while?

The only conclusion I can reach is that the problem does indeed rest with me. How many times will I be told I am not worthy of respect and that I asked to be hurt because I bothered to wake up and breath? Do you really think it is helpful to cast blame on the person who is seeking to make it better?

I guess my option is to dig in and wait. Hopefully, while doing that I can protect others from letting part of themselves languish in limbo because someone else doesn’t want them to shine…

In the meantime, at least I have tiny koalas to remind me that I am important. They don’t shun me for trespasses that don’t exist enough to be voiced. They don’t turn their back on me because I express complicated human emotions. And they aren’t teenagers yet, so they still believe I know a couple of things.

Do you?

Mama’s Wild Ride Continues [RANT]

So I left off before the joy of Halloween night. Mama werewolf walked Red from “Descendants” and Vampirina from house to house. Despite the chill in the air, I returned home all warm and cozy thanks to my hat, my gloves, and my lovely cloak. My brother felt I needed the hat and gloves. I guess he knows me after all.

People were generous with their donations to this sweet night. In fact, I kept informing them I did not need anything. I was just carrying buckets for the girls’ overflow. Maybe next year, I will be less of a helicopter mom and watch them from the street as they knock on doors. Maybe next year, I won’t see my oldest charging into people like an adorable wrecking ball that loves candy. My children may never finish all the beloved candy they scored. Hmm. Anyone interested in buying some Trick-or-Treat brownies?

The rest of the week has been a jumble of appointments and stress. Being a mom and a wife is not for the faint of heart. When one can’t sleep, the whole world takes on a whole new light. I think I am living the mombie life to the best of my ability. But others tend not to agree. Hoping for a little more sleep and a little less exhaustion this upcoming week.

Despite that, I keep getting up and doing as much as I can as fast and as well as I can. Someday, I hope to whittle down that old “to do” list. As any mom will tell you, that is easier said than done. Some tasks renew themselves daily: dishes and cooking, for instance. Others are at least on a weekly repopulation schedule such as laundry and trash. And then there are all the line items that seem to jump from everyone else’s list to mine because I clearly have so much free time. Does anyone else have kids who constantly try to outsource their homework to you?

Due to my car refusing to start, my new friend pointed out that I needed to make a trip to the DMV. I find it ironic that they tell us not to get on our phones while we sit in line waiting indefinitely for all the cars in front of us to roll through for inspection. Good thing I scored some physical books to read. Even better, my car passed inspection.

Anyway, nothing too exciting to report. Hopefully, next week proves as dull. In the meantime, I am serious about selling some brownies. 9X13 pan, filled with chunks of Halloween candy that I shouldn’t eat and definitely shouldn’t feed to the tiny humans I have to chase if they make it to the ceiling. Any takers? $25 seems to be about the median price (with a discount) for local delivery>

I also have been trying to cure myself of my hoarding. Some lucky locals have scored some of my old stuff. But I have some crafts that need to be appreciated and my kids might like it if I score a little extra money to pay for summer camps and other extracurriculars, so if you have a need for handmade journals or random jewelry, we should talk.

Until next time, remember that you are awesome and anyone who tells you otherwise needs to reevaluate their life choices.