My back is broken, not actually broken, but something went “ping” in there and I cant stand upright or sit, I can lie down but mostly I’m in pain. My friend is a physio he’s fixing me. Amusing side note – if you miss type physio auto type suggests patio *giggles*
Did I mention I am loaded with pain relief? Under the influence of a selection of tablets – some left over from my c-section, others purchased over the counter in foreign climes under the advice of my pharmacist buddies *giggles more*.
I’ve kind of lost my blogging mojo of late for many reasons but one of which is I’ve wanted to write about something but haven’t. It’s in me and nothing else can get past, except the odd review or competition cos they use a different part of my blog brain. So under the influence of diazepam I’d like to rant about other mothers…
There are some mothers, definitely one mother, who are a total waste of oxygen. There’s not just one mother sadly there are lots of the “pain in the ass” mother types. I was inspired by Karin over at Cafe Bebe who has experienced similar, do check out her recent vlog if you’ve not already
So this mother, let’s call her Karen, as that’s her name. Now I have encountered Karen before. I deliberately keep my distance because, well, she’s really quite unpleasant. At baby music class she talks throughout to her friend unaware of the impact this has on the overall causes, the disruption her children are causing or the inappropriateness of her mostly blue language amongst a baby/toddler class. She and I parent differently and as far as I am concerned out two approaches are incompatible when it comes to being more than familiar faces. I don’t like her, can’t believe she likes me and I couldn’t care less about either of this facts.
So imagine my surprise if a few months ago when we are both in the same soft play Karen approaches me “oh hello this must be baby G, she’s lovely…blah, blah, blah” I was on my guard but she seemed friendly enough. It was a front. Shortly after. “Claire my J says your H has just pushed him” *sigh* they’re 3 years old that’s what they do, “oh right, H come here, did you push J?” H said he didn’t. I asked Karen had she seen it. She hadn’t. I asked H to be careful and kind and that is where it should have ended.
It didn’t end there. Karen then continued to cross examine my H “you won’t get into trouble H, just say your sorry, you did push him didn’t you, just say your sorry, did you push J, you did didn’t you?” I reminded Karen that we hadn’t seen the situation, my irritation with her inappropriate interrogation of my son in front of me left me aghast. “It’s very important to me that H apologises” how can that be expected if he says he didn’t do something and neither of us witnessed the alleged misdemeanour? Then in front of both of us her J body slammed into my H, before I could pop her J into a chair, shine a bright light in his face and reciprocate the cross examination and verbally bash an apology out of him, Karen announced “you see that’s because your H didn’t apologise that’s what J does because he’s upset about the lack of apology.” I walked away, I took H and I walked away.
I was furious. Absolutely livid. It bothers me that I allowed this woman to question my son, it caught me off guard. I find it vile that she felt she had that right. She did not. It bothers me months on, it bothers me that I am still cross. This creature, Karen, has a total lack of self awareness. I attribute this to limited intellect. Oh and the fact she’s a complete bitch clearly. I don’t go to soft play to make my day more difficult. No one does.
Karen you’re a trouble causer and a first class pain in the ass. You’re also an unpleasant gossip so if you’re reading this just check behind you next time you want to *whisper* to a friend about “I’ve got a story about that Claire she’s got H & G…” remember I have the hearing of a bat and you have a big fat mouth which I’ll happily plant a big fat lip on it.
Will I regret this post in the morning? No because I already feel a whole lot better. Thanks for listening!
Claire x
