So I am going to a Bible study every Friday morning. Funny, that, eh. I realize that a lot of people from my world are so surprised when they find out I have submerged myself into such things. But I have never read the Bible and I am enjoying it. I am not going into it. Just suffice it to say that I don't think it would hurt anyone to read it.
And I am a member of a Christian Book Club. Okay, now I know some people think I have lost my mind. The book club reads books by Christian authors. And the one I devoured in less than twenty four hours was quite similar to a Stephen King read. I wasn't surprised when reading an interview with the author to see King's name mentioned. It was quite good. Hell, I sat and read it in less than a day. And I slept for five hours. lol
As for the book club, that is something that I have always wanted to do. I love to read and have always thought it would be so interesting and well, cool, to be in a book club. I have gone to one meeting and really enjoyed myself.
I was almost hit twice today while driving. For some reason, people didn't think I was entitled to my right-of-way. Both times mom "saved" us by her "ohhhhhh watch out" exclamations. I told her that if it wasn't for her, I would have had a new bumper and then half of my bad inspection sticker would have been solved. *sigh* Something tells me that my very old but reliable 1998 Durango would have held up to a side bender from a little itty bitty Honda Civic. Just sayin'. *snort* And no, I don't wish we had been in an accident, but I am making an effort to look on hte sunny side of things.
I had a dream this afternoon about BD2 (Baby Daddy2). In the dream he had lost so much weight and looked entirely different. He kept insisting it was him while I kept insisting it wasn't. I suppose I was thinking about him because I called him yesterday to tell him Happy Veterans Day. And, of course, he didn't answer. And, of course, he didn't call me back. I didn't expect him to call me back. He never does. Every once in a while he will answer his phone, usually if he is at work.
"Happy Veterans Day. I was thinking about you. I love you." And see, that's the thing. We say that. He says it when we talk. I say it when we talk. I do love him. I'm not in love with him at all. (I can't even remember the last time I felt an in love moment with him) But there's a love there. I get strange looks from people if they're around us when we say our goodbyes. I don't know why I do it. I didn't for a while and then one day just started repeating it after him.
We could be great friends and would probably hang out if I wasn't the mother of one of his children. But he doesn't want to hang around with the girls so we can't hang out. It's odd. And I think I have it figured out that he doesn't like to be around the girls because it makes him face things he doesn't want to face. He gets hit so hard with the reality of what he did and what he doesn't do. And he is one of the most emotionally immature people I have ever known. If it doesn't feel good, he doesn't do it. Period. So being around the girls and having to stare at the reality of what he has made of things doesn't feel good. And so it doesn't get done.
Another coward.
But that's okay. I'm handling it.
And now for my big "What the..." moment of the week....
Every morning I drop TOD off at school 30 minutes before class begins so she can eat breakfast. I was walking her in every morning but she seemed to be getting tired of that (and I was the only parent that did it), so now I drop her off at the corner and watch as she runs into the school. For breakfast.
She came home from school today starved to death. I asked her what she had eaten all day. And then I looked at the menu. I knew as soon as I read "BBQ pork on whole wheat bread" that TOD had not eaten lunch. But she is always talking about her good breakfasts, so I thought she had eaten something.
For some reason, I asked her what she had eaten for breakfast. She pretended to not hear me. So I asked her again. Again, she didn't hear me. So I turned the tv to the weather channel so she would hear me when I asked again. "I can't remember," she said. I asked how she just couldn't remember what she had eaten for breakfast.
Mind you, I am holding the menu in my hand as I ask for the last time. "Did you have breakfast pizza?"
"No," she said. "I had pancake on a stick."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, mo-om," she answered in that grown-up voice of hers. "I had a pancake on a stick and it was delicious."
"Hmm...TOD, what do you do instead of eating breakfast at school?"
"I eat breakfast at school. I just told you."
"What do you do when I drop you off at school early?"
"I told you that-"
"TOD, this menu says that you should have had egg and bacon breakfast pizza for breakfast this morning."
"I..umm...I'll go to breakfast Monday, mom, I promise."
"I want you to tell me what you have done every morning this week when I drop you at school so early."
See, at this point it had all taken a dark twist inside my brain. I had known for minutes that she was lying to me. I really didn't care what she had done at school, that wasn't my point. There isn't much that she can do at her school before the bell rings. My point was that she had lied to me every single day this week. And I. Cannot. Stand. Liars.
I. Will. Not. Raise. A. Liar.
And especially not my oldest child. The child who knows better. The child who is never really a problem. Nope. That will not happen.
I told her that whether or not she went to class or to the cafeteria wasn't the point. What mattered was that, instead of telling me when asked that she hadn't gone to breakfast, she instead told me how delicious it was. And that was a lie. And she was punished for lying to me.
I told her that in my opinion liars were the ugliest and dirtiest people in the world. I also told her that I didn't treat her in a way that would require her to lie to me. And yes, even at 6 years old she got that.
My heart hurt after that. I felt as if somewhere, somehow I had lost my ability to stay on top of things. As if I had stopped paying attention to the things I should have paid attention to. And maybe you think I made too big a deal about it, but I cannot stand liars. But worse yet, I am not the kind of mom that requires her daughters to lie to her. I am open and honest and understanding and compassionate. I am empathetic and ...well...she shouldn't have lied to me.
It didn't take long for the two of us to get back to good. I love her, and she loves me. In fact, in way of an apology, I was given a note that said she loved me and I was the best mom in the world. *smile* So after she and her sister cleaned their crap off the floor this evening, we went out for ice cream. And on the way up the stairs TYD started to talk about a monster being behind us. So then I farted, giving the "hairy scary monster" room to morph into the "hairy farting monster." We squealed and giggled and ran up the stairs to our apartment.
Gone with those giggles and squeals were the lies and the "no"s, the bruised hearts and the broken seemingly insignificant bonds. Yep, I farted away the day's nasties.