and I am slowly unraveling.
I started a long and thoroughly ranty post here earlier today, and then, mercifully, I ditched it. ;)
And in fact, I find that I have no energy to rehash or even summarize what's been going on, so I'll stick with a few simple facts: my listing will be expiring in a little over a week. We have opted to list with someone else, and I will interview several agents to get their input. You can thank me now for the vastly shorter paragraph on this subject than you might otherwise have been asked to endure.
Although I rarely drink, I have lately lamented the lack of alcoholic options at Starbucks. I realize it doesn't quite make sense to combine them, but there have been days recently that such a combination would have been welcome. Even, it seemed, at 9 am, so perhaps it's as well that they remain separate.
So today the kids had a dentist checkup. They did great! First, we are 3 for 3, cavity-free. :D Second, Bridget actually allowed them to floss and brush her teeth. It was pretty funny, to be honest, but my brave wee girl didn't cry a drop. Well, not until later anyway when we were waiting to pay and brother tried to pick her up. And third, the dentist informed me that Molly - MOLLY!!! - has a loose tooth. It's just barely loose, and he doesn't think it'll be out 'til around Christmas, but...but...I'm not ready for that! Still, she's beyond thrilled and has started asking to eat apples because her classmate told her that such things help loosen teeth more quickly. At least the TF has ample notice to put aside a few shekels.
Of course, the visit there wasn't without a bit of frustration. In the waiting room, there is a video game for the kids to play. Another young boy (aged 5 or maybe a young 6) was already there, and he and his mom were playing the game. I didn't witness the change, but while I was signing the kids in, James must've asked if he could play, too, and I guess she agreed. So anyway, the video game looked, to me, like two players with light sabers. I just about died when James said something like, "There are no more enemies, we'll have to kill each other!", and it was even worse when the mom gasped and looked at me like I had, in fact, given birth to the antichrist. I admonished James, he apologized, but then he did something else - maybe he said something about fighting. The mom gasps again, and the look she gives me confirms that she does now know with complete certainty that my child is evil and that I actively encourage this behavior. Next thing, I hear the mom start to say to her son that this isn't how we really play with friends, and that we really shouldn't fight, and this isn't how we do things, how we treat people, etc., etc. I look up and ask James if there is a problem, and at that point, I see that her son is taking his light saber and beating the hell out of James' character (James, to his, er, credit, is loving it groan), and the lady says, maybe because her name is James, too (?), that the problem is that these characters are supposed to be on the same team and friends and that this isn't how the game is supposed to be played... At that point, our names are called and as I'm trying to herd my cats, I could only manage a very lame, "Well, we wouldn't know how the game is played because he isn't allowed to play these kinds of games at home." Which is true, and he rarely plays video games at all (preferring, mind you, to draw sweeping images of war, destruction and general military-inspired mayhem), but all I kept thinking was that she interrupted my question to James, and that, frankly, if even I saw two characters with light sabers, and I'd never played the game before, I might think those characters were supposed to fight, too.
Which brings me to this: I love my son fiercely, but there are many times I wish he wasn't so wrapped up in the military and wars (what's on his wish list? books on the world wars and other U.S.-involved conflicts). It sure makes me regret hoping that he'd get past his obsession with cranes, dump trucks and backhoes because I wanted him to have a "proper" job - and yes, I was that horrible, but as for now, I can at least say that a crane operator puts in an honest day's work and doesn't pack a full-auto assault weapon and dozen 'zines of ammo. Still, I figure my job is accepting him for who he is, and giving boundaries around this type of play as well as factual information about what else war is about - that the act of defending your country, while noble, has other consequences to those individuals who are caught up in the middle. It's a slow process, and some days I think I've done better than others, but man, that lady named James really irritated me. It could have been my already agitated state, but I don't think so. And if her son is that whack-the-saber-happy, well, then I wish I could be a fly on the wall in about 2-3 years when some other mom gives her the same shpiel she gave me. (Can I add right about now that I am SOOO grateful that James wasn't wearing one of his camo shirts?)
Okay, so that turned out to be a long and ranty post anyway. Sorry 'bout that; I'm pretty sure I'm done for now. In more ways than one.
And I'm sending big ol' Happy Birthday wishes to my pal Fransie! May it be as lovely as you are, dear friend!
