Monday, March 28, 2011

you're welcome for all the answers to the world's problems

Turns out the nurses think I don’t need to go in to the doctor’s office. They think that the parts that aren’t connected will simply fall off over time. Delicious. I guess this actually makes sense, especially since other pieces have started falling off today. Never felt sexier in my life. Haven’t worked out in weeks, eaten like crazy, belly still swollen from surgery, can’t speak, breath is horrible from the decomposing scabs, and occasionally hacking up chunks of my own flesh into the sink. Come on boys, come and get it while it’s hot!
I’m very thankful that they don’t think I need to come in and stitch me up or knock me out. I really didn’t want to start the whole healing process over once more.
Yesterday, we took Gavin to the new kid’s area at the Cherry Creek Mall (For non-Denver natives—this is the ritzy part of town, snobby—I remember when I barely felt good enough to go to that mall, and when I did, I’d dress up and make sure I look good—now the clientele is something out of the Wal-Mart books—if not in looks, for sure in action). It was quite an experience. By the time we left, I was thankful my voice isn’t working very well. I’m not sure I really would have been able to keep my mouth shut. I let my distain show the way it was. There were probably one hundred kids in that small area. The parents seemed to think that this was an opportunity to sit on the benches, drinking their Starbucks, playing on their smart phones, and not think about being a parent for an hour or so. In theory, I can understand that thinking. It’s a kid’s area, turn them loose, let them be kids. However, I would argue the opposite is true. There is a lot of relationships that you learn from trial and error, that is true, however, manners, etiquette, and respect are not learned that way and are a basic foundation of how figure out relationships on your own as you grow up. Teach them not to crawl up the slides, causing other kids not to be able use the slides and causing injuries (which there were several from our short time there). Teach them not to run into other children and knock them over, intentionally and unintentionally. Teach them it is rather unmannerly to roll on the ground with each other, tugging on hair and biting. There was twice were I broke up fights between four year olds. Not little kids fights, but punching. Shoving to the ground, kicking in the face. Truly, not exaggerating in the slightest. It was like adults fighting, not kids. It was obviously learned, rather from TV or their parent’s lives, I’m not sure. However, it was not in play. It was brutal and violent. I broke the fights up, with the parents sitting less than five feet away—parents that were aware of what their child was doing. There was thing after thing, and I was completely disgusted—a lot with the children, but so, so much more with parents. To think there are those who say my kind shouldn’t be allowed to have children but these wastes of spaces are given such treasures to waste. I can’t fathom not loving that part of parenting. Gavin is spoiled rotten, and we all know it. However, even my gorgeously perfect spoiled nephew, at less than two years of age was able to comprehend some genteel mentality. He tried to crawl up the slides with the rest of the monsters, however, after taking him by the hand and showing him the process of crawling up the steps, walking across the platform, figuring out how to sit without falling, and then sliding, he was doing it all by himself after a two demonstrations. Squealing with delight at his new ability and pride at what a big boy he was! Gotta say, my chest was rather puffed out with his new ability as well!

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