Skip to main content

I. Have. Issues.

I may have written about the craziness that ensues in the parking lot of my son's school at drop off. It looks a bit like a pit stop at the Daytona 500. Stop. Drop child off. Rev engine. Fly out of the parking lot with increasing speed, maneuvering around other cars and narrowly missing teachers and children, innocently walking into the building.

A few years ago, a particularly hurried parent almost ran over my son. While she may have been rushing to a super important event, it was not more important than my son's life. Since that day, I pull up right in front of the door so he can walk straight in the doors. Even though he is almost 13, most days I wait until he is in the doors.

It must have been my waiting that irritated the woman behind me today, as she squealed around me to drive out of the dark, slippery parking lot, at about 55 mph. The slippery, dark parking lot filled with teachers and children walking into school.

That. Makes. Me. Crazy.

In our She's Got Issues small group, we recently talked about ANGER. I have some issues with anger. I yell more than I should, which is not at all. Sometimes I throw things. Occasionally, I slam doors. That is a particularly unsatisfying habit in my house where the doors just do not slam. However, in the old, drafty house where I grew up, the solid wooden doors shook a city block when you slammed them. That was satisfying.

Sorry, sidetracked. We talked about anger being from God. Anger motivates us to act, and when we act righteously, that anger has produced a good result. For instance, if reading about a child being bullied infuriates you so much that you form an anti-bullying organization at your own child's school, your anger has triggered a positive response. But if your husband leaves the recycling on the counter instead of putting it in the bin for the fourth day in a row, and in your irritation, you swipe it off onto the floor... Well, you've just made a big mess for yourself to clean up, and you haven't really taught him anything. And by you, I mean me, because I just did that about a week ago.

Unfortunately, our anger is often provoked by selfish motives rather than just cause. Even more often our reactions are misguided attempts at validating our own "rightness" rather than making a valuable contribution to the world. I am working really hard on that issues.

So, to the woman who screeched around me in the parking lot today: At 7:25 this morning, I had some really angry feelings toward you. Part of me wanted to yank you out of your car at the stop sign. That part of me is from Warren and may or may not have a CCL (that's a concealed carry license, and I really don't, but you didn't know that until I just told you).

Instead, I will say: I understand you are in a hurry. I worked full-time for 10 years while my older kids were in school. For three of those years, I commuted to Cleveland. Mornings are busy and hectic, and we are often rushing. I promise you that the two or three seconds you might save by speeding through the school parking lot will never be worth the lifetime of pain a family will endure if you run their child over. Please slow down and be cautious.

Comments

  1. I do not look forward to this, but I will say that things like this are one of the reasons I am getting in shape and will be taking Krav Maga once I am in good enough shape to not embarrass myself. Also, we are putting aside money for a bail fund.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Stop it. I don't think you have to worry. Jinju can and will take care of herself.

      Delete
  2. I am not a fan of this goddamn a-fucking-pproval process! What's with the goddamn god complex, Kitsy?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I got rid of it. I wasn't even sure how I did it thereby it took a bit to figure out how to undo it. Calm down, Casanova.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Did I Love Him Enough?

I just started reading a new book. It's called Weight Loss for People Who Feel Too Much by Colette Baron-Reid, who I discovered on my current favorite podcast: This is Fifty With Sheri and Nancy. It is blowing my mind and showing me that some of the extra pounds I'm carrying don't even belong to me. Seriously. This is yours, this is his, this is hers, and oh wait, THAT? That belongs to a person who isn't even part of my life anymore! Great. Take your shit back.

More on that later. But, listen to the podcast. Seriously, you will love it!

Anyway, while in this super zen, grown-up, boundary-setting, higher self head space, I need to tackle an issue I've been avoiding for about 18 years but really strongly avoiding for the last 6 months. My son is growing up. He graduates from high school on Sunday, and in a few months, he's moving to Columbus to attend THE Ohio State University.

Can I tell you a secret? I used to LOVE everything about THE Ohio State University, bu…

Why Didn't I Report It?

When I was 17, I went with friends to a party at a boy's house from another school. I drank too much and passed out. I don't remember much about the incident, but I woke up with my friend screaming at a boy, pulling me up and dragging me to the car. She told me that she came looking for me and found me passed out. The boy had his penis in my face. I don't remember it. Thankfully.

I never told my parents who would have said, "How stupid could you be? You shouldn't have put yourself in that position." They would not have said, "No one should put his penis in your face without your consent."

A few months ago, I saw a picture of that boy on social media. He's a man now. With a beautiful family. He probably doesn't remember that night. I wondered: What might have happened if my friend didn't walk in and tell him to get his dick out of my face? Were there were other girls whose friends didn't come looking for them? Did they ever tell anyone…

Before and After

We all have defining moments...instances when something happens--good or bad--and you know from that point forward you'll measure your life in terms of before and after that event. Of course there are sometimes more than one, but there is nearly always one.

For me, it was my brother's death. February 5, 1989. There have been others. A dear friend's death in 1992. Another brother died in 1997. My dad died in 2011. But February 5, that was the one for me.

I started to think of and look at things in terms of before Chris died and after.

Before Chris died, I believed in magic. In God. In miracles. After, I believed that you should never let yourself get too comfortable or trust happiness because it would be ripped away from you.

Before Chris died, I often felt special and love and cherished. For too long after, I felt pretty worthless.

Before Chris died, I believed that I was brave and strong. After he died, I felt weak and afraid when I needed to be brave and strong.

Before …