I had this brilliant idea today. I was going to take J and Apple to the tropical greenhouse at the Experimental Farm here in Ottawa. I was under the assumption (not sure why) that it was quite large and had butterflies. After driving in circles, including driving by it once, we arrived.
J was excited and Apple had awoken from her nap already. We started on our tour.
Then the magic words came out of my mouth. “J, don’t touch.” At least ten times. He wanted to touch a cactus.
And guess what.
He touched it.
One that didn’t look prickly, but had those invisible little hairs that get stuck and hurt forever. And me without bandaids today (because J used them all up). We had to turn around and go home. It would seem though, that we actually saw all of the greenhouse. It was rather small and there were no butterflies. The good news is that we were alone with my screaming son and it didn’t cost us anything more than the gas in the truck.
And on the way home, J sobbing in the backseat says, “Mommy, I wish we had never gone to that horrible place”. To which I replied, “And I wish J that you had listened to me when I told you not to touch the cactus.” Hopefully next time he will listen to me.
Now to figure out where on earth those butterflies are.
Sunday was a very rainy, cool day here. But around 4:30pm the rain stopped long enough that we were able to head over to the local ‘fair’. Now I call it a fair but truthfully it is the carnies that set up at the mall and rip you off raise money for a local charity. Since we drove by it three times while picking stuff up from the hardware store, it seemed only fitting to take J back for a few rides. We weren’t the only ones trying to cram in some weekend fun at the last minute. Other families could be found trying to get just one more ride out of the operators. The most important part is that J had fun.
He would be Mr. Serious as his ride went around, then he would get to me and the camera and he would pull all these silly faces. It was great. I finally feel like his silly joking side is breaking free. He has always been a happy smiling child, but silly has always been reserved for home. To see it out in public was such a treat.
Even if he was sticking his tongue out at me.
And Apple did well in the stroller watching all the colours and her silly brother fly by her. Hubby was trying to make her laugh, but all he was getting was the ‘blaaaahhhhh’ screetch she was perfecting.
Here’s to open fair season and lots of rides to come for the summer.
It’s not about ME.
It’s not about ME.
It’s not about ME.
I am a super sensitive person. I cry at the drop of a hat. When someone looks at me the wrong way in the grocery store, I wonder how I offended them. I have spent years trying to teach myself that it is not always about me. Just because someone is nasty (read beeotch) to me doesn’t mean it is about me.
I had been doing much better, but recently an old friend and a close acquaintance have both been really nasty to me. Separately but it is the same feeling I get when I talk to either of them. Whatever on earth did I do to you to make you so nasty to me? I have even questioned myself. Have I been nice, have I been social, have I been generous, have I changed?
I can honestly say yes to only one of those things. I have changed towards both those people. How could I not have. Every time I call or visit they are just plain nasty. Occasionally we have good chats or visits but more often than not, I leave or hang up feeling depressed or anti-social.
I searched myself today, while I cleaned my house. I asked myself what did I do? Then all of a sudden I remembered something. It’s not always about ME. And perhaps this goes back to the old ‘jealousy’ philosophy I carried around for a long time. My jealousy philosophy is that sometimes people are just nasty because they are jealous of something I have or do that they don’t. And in both these cases I think that these women are actually jealous. Jealous of me!? Thus, their way to deal with it is to be nasty. I can’t change the way they feel towards me and I can’t change the way they act towards me. The old me (the one from years ago that would have been so devastated by this) would have done anything to turn this situation around. But today, as I was cleaning and thinking about this I realized maybe it isn’t about me at all, maybe it is about them. Maybe they are acting this way towards everybody. Maybe they are jealous, but that isn’t my problem. My problem is me. And I can do something about me. I can tell myself that it’s not about ME.
And I have been doing this every time I start thinking about it. I am feeling better, but I might have to chant it just a little more.
It’s not about ME.
It’s not about ME.
It’s not about ME.
