Yesterday, I managed to take the kids that I sit for sledding. Boy was that a trip! The little girl was crying because it was too cold and too fast while the older boy was having a blast. I don’t know how many times I will have to explain to both of them that there are times when they just have to deal with it. There are two of them so it isn’t right that we always do what the little one wants just because she is littler or do what the older wants because he is eldest. What ever happened to taking turns and not throwing fits when it wasn't your turn? Apparently, those days went extinct.
Damn, it is so frustrating feeling like I have to parent other people’s children. I am never quite sure where the boundaries are. I am constantly telling the five year old to ask her mom the questions that she asks me constantly. Questions like, “What happens when you die?” or “Where do babies really come from?” or “How do I know if a boy really loves me?” Where is she coming up with this stuff? She has asked me that last question five or six times so far and the only thing I can come up with is that she has watched too many Disney movies, while refusing to have that discussion with a five year old. I haven’t really noticed it before, but there seems to be a standard theme in those dreadful Disney flicks that states that girls and young women need a boy or a man to take care of them and do things like save them or whatever. Bull honky!!! Why can’t they save themselves? There is no reason that they can’t, and we all know it. So, why do they insist on perpetuating such a lame stereotype?
Quite frankly, I am sick of explaining to this little girl that she can be just as tough as a boy and she can do anything that a little boy can do. It is so weird. One moment she will be rough housing with me or her brother and then a song will play on the radio or she’ll see a picture of something and that will ruin everything. She’ll start acting all prim and proper and try to order me around because she is now a princess who neds to be saved from something odd. Yesterday she needed to be saved from the evil shop vac. Every time she gets on one of these kicks I tell her that she needs to save herself because in reality no one is ever going to save her, and, without fail, that will start a crying fit. Sure I feel mean and dastardly for making a little girl cry like that, but I hate the idea that at five years old she can’t play the one doing the rescuing. I ask her why she can’t save me and she says, “Because I am a girl silly!” Oh yeah, silly me I forgot. No I won’t rescue you from the evil vacuum cleaner. I guess that she could have worse foibles.
Anyway, so we went sledding and the little girl was absolutely miserable the entire time, but when we start to pack up to go home she all of a sudden starts begging me to take her sledding there again. I love it. For 45 minutes she hates it, and then, suddenly, she is having the time of her life. So, I promised to take her there again tomorrow. I am guessing it will go much the same as yesterday, but who knows.
I am just hoping that the trashy people that were there yesterday don’t show up again. I realize that I swear a lot, but these redneck wannabe’s made it an obvious life choice to use grotesque and vulgar language in every sentence. It got to the point that I asked them to stop speaking like that because the kiddos could hear them. In a way they apologized, but I am not entirely sure how sincere it was because the one said, “Dude, I’m really **%^ing sorry.” Yeah that got a smirk out of me too. After that they did tone it down a little bit until a scad of children starting yelling for one of them.
I swear the air turned blue with profanity. I would never even think of speaking like that to most people let alone my own children. At about the time the guy marched over and started smacking his kids my two kids and myself took off. They don’t need to see that or hear that. It is bad enough that he was swearing as he was staring blankly at an old ratty van he was trying to hook a tow chain up to while he stank of alcohol and cigarettes, but does he really need to act like a jerk to his kids too? If he didn’t want them he should have used a condom or something. I know, I know god forbid anyone ever use their heads when they start the lovemaking train rolling, but seriously. Why have kids you obviously detest? From the look of that guy, as his train was leaving the station his tracks were probably thoroughly lubricated with Milwaukee’s Best or whatever cheap beer he could find at the time, making him unable to think through all the alcohol induced haze.
Well, after we got into the van and started driving home the little girl said, “Why was that man angry about his kids for?” I told her I didn’t know and was thinking of a way to explain that some people weren’t always nice to their children when she said, “Maybe I should go and rescue them.”
I didn’t know what to say. Finally, this loveable little girl decides that she can be a hero and it didn’t matter that she was a girl. How was I going to explain to her that there wasn’t anything she could do to help them because it would just make it worse or be too dangerous? Believe me, I wanted to stop it too, but I was torn. I have seen shit like this go down before. If I would have stepped in he would have stopped then, but he would have been twice as bad when I left. If I had called protective services they wouldn’t have been able to do much and the bastard would just be smarter about beating his kids next time. So I did the only thing I could have done really. I took the children I was with away from the situation, while trying desperately to find a way of explaining that trash to them. I am almost positive that that was the first time either one of them has witnessed anything like that and it just had to happen on my watch. How lucky am I right?
So lamely, I told the little girl to ask her momma daddy about it and talk to them about what happened. I asked the older boy if he was ok. Then I thought about it for a while and told themr that not everyone is as lucky as they are and had nice parents who loved them and wouldn’t ever hurt them. It was all I could say. How else do I explain that trashy people exist?