Barbarians in the thrift store

Two weeks left until the Steampunk World’s Fair, so I thought I’d get started on combing through the local thrift stores to find something costume-y to wear.

Took Zanna with me, told her if she’d be patient while Mommy looked for vintage clothes, I’d let her play in the toy aisle.  She seemed to enjoy helping me sort thru the racks of clothing, but got bored in the changing room.  Couldn’t understand why it’s very Not Good to drop down and peek under the divider into the next changing booth over.

After finding a cool old-fashioned blouse (new, with tags! SCORE!!!) we made our way to the toy area and Zanna had a blast trying out the toys, while I tried to resist the temptation to buy the twins more toys that they’d only make a mess with.

Then disaster struck…

Remember how I’ve been struggling with that herniated neck disk and pinched nerve causing excruciating pain in my neck, shoulder, arm and back – since Christmas 2011?  Well, things have been slowly getting better, until…

Some kid decided to fling a hard rubber ball at high velocity – right smack at the back of my neck!

He was about 3 yrs old, andboth of his parents stood there with bored looks on their faces, just watching this without comment.

After waiting a moment to give them a chance to apologize for their kid’s misbehavior, I went over and quietly told them that their child had thrown a ball that hit me.

“So?” they answered, “He’s only 3.”

So I explained that I was recovering from a neck injury, and that was where the ball their child threw had impacted.

Ah, now they started getting fidgety.  “It was an accident,” they said and turned away.

I couldn’t believe this – no apology, no taking responsibility, no concern that their child had hurt someone, no matter how accidental it was – and really, is it somehow ‘OK’ now to let your child throw objects at people in a store?

I sure as hell wouldn’t let Halle or Zanna do such a thing!

So I repeated that their child had thrown a ball at my injury, causing me pain.

“Are you kidding me?” the father asked incredulously, I’m not sure whether he meant to imply that I was faking my injury or that he understood it was real but thought that I was pretty stupid for expecting him to give a crap.

“No, I’ve been in physical therapy for this since just after Christmas.”

Then he started to berate me for bothering him about it, insisting that if my kid had done it to him (AS IF!!) he’d just ignore it.  So I said that I doubted that, especially if it resulted in medical bills.

I told him that as the parent of the child, he was responsible for his child’s behavior in public, especially if it resulted in someone else being injured.

He just didn’t seem to get it, saying that because his child was only 3, that there was nothing to be responsible for.

Then I asked him for a contact number so that I could get in touch with them if I needed additional therapy because of their son.

They turned tail and did some speedy walking out of the store.  I announced to them that I took some cellphone pics of them which the police would compare to the store security tapes to identify them.

No, I’m not going to really do that, but I hope it drives home the point that they need to keep a closer eye on their kid’s behavior, and maybe make sure that their kid doesn’t hurt anyone else.

I shudder to think, though, what that kid will turn out to be like, with parents who seem to think that someone can do any darn thing they like, and to hell with anyone else.  Forget personal accountability or taking responsibility for one’s actions.

Sigh…

Ya know, there are laws making dog owners responsible if their pooch bites someone, there should be laws making parents responsible for the actions of their kids, too.

Finding the “Me” in “Mommy”

2:30 AM – checking little noses and toes for warmth, do they need blankets, has anyone flooded their bed yet, etc…

Brightly colored ponies on some kind of rainbow adventure on the TV – G-d forbid I should try and put on an old ep of Iron Chef…

Time to make dinner – is it worth bothering to put in some effort to make an absolutely delicious chicken stew that will go uneaten by the twins, necessitating a last-minute mac’n'cheese rescue…sigh…mac’n'cheese it is from the get-go…just don’t have it in me to make two separate meals…

9:30pm – Kidlets are FINALLY asleep, can I watch PBS’s new Sherlock series (on DVD of course)…better not, I’ve got a home that looks like ground zero of a hurricane, piles of laundry to tend to, and after a quick check on the girls – ‘Build the damn ark, already Noah!’ – yes, we’ve got another flooded bed…mystery and mayhem and lovely British accents will have to wait for another time…

Both my husband and I would LOVE to see the new Dark Shadows movie, but will we get to?  FAT CHANCE!!  Contemplating getting a sitter for the girls results in visions of ‘baby-sitter-shaped red wet smears on the floor’ dancing thru our heads, so that’d be a ‘no’.

In fact, I think the last date we had was a year ago – my brother Steve and his wife had come over to sit for us for a couple of hours.  We haven’t heard from them since.  I kid you not.

And the date before that one was three years ago.

And should I actually have some miniscule erg of energy with which to get frisky with, after the girls are in bed, just a glance at my husband – the exhausted zombie-guy currently collapsed in a groaning heap on our couch – quickly puts the kibosh on anything of that sort.

I haven’t been to a Starfleet meeting in nearly six months (I average about .5 meetings per year.)

But is it worth it?  HELL YES!!

But sometimes I really miss autonomy in determining how I spend my time.  Surprisingly, given my druthers, I’m not actually interested in chatting about mommy-related things – GASP! HORROR!

I’m a geek.  I like geek things.  I would like nothing better than to completely re-do my bedroom to resemble the bridge of the starship U.S.S. Enterprise.  (My husband, however, draws the line at wearing either pointy prosthetic ears or a red shirt.)

Come September, the girls will finally have made it to Kindergarten – a full-day schedule from 9AM – 2:30PM – and I’ll have the time, energy and freedom I now crave so desperately.

And I’ll probably be spending a good deal of it missing my little girls and wishing for the days they took up every iota of my existence.

“Don’t it always seem to go – that you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone…”   – Joni Mitchell, ‘Big Yellow Taxi’

Top 25 Mothers of Multiples Blogs – #Please vote for me?


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A little bit of quiet – thoughts in space…

Just a quick post of something cool I found on the web:

http://thequietplaceproject.com/thethoughtsroom

Very relaxing and cathartic, try it out – it’s free! No sign-ups or anything!

Just keep hitting the space bar once you get there to keep advancing.

Happy Tuesday!

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