Sitting here, on the very last day of my 50th decade..LMAO..Now doesn't that sound absolutely unreal?
Funny, age is the strangest thing. There is nothing one can do to change it. Oh, I suppose if I had been much smarter, and a tad more me-centered, I could have managed far less wrinkles. I could have also dropped some poundage, and toned some muscle. But..since I didn't think about this stuff in time, here I sit, slightly chunky, a wee bit saggy, and more than a little wrinkled. Not much I can do now. Oh, I have considered opting for one of the 3, the poundage part..I have thought, perhaps if I put on some more weight, it might plump up a few wrinkles..still thinking on that, because it would also require a larger amount of Lays potato chips, and I am sure I would have to go far beyond my acceptable salt intake....
I sort of accept myself, most of the time. The only time I truly clue in, is when photos are taken, and I cannot ignore what I appear like. The rest of the time, I just don't acknowledge the visual, there is no need. I know I am clothed, my hair is brushed..or was at least once during my waking hours, and that's pretty much all I need covered in case I come in contact with another human. But..you know what, even when I was 16, pictures of me looked horrid. There were no wrinkles, I just seldom had a picture taken that I was happy with. I just sort of thought when I got old, I would suddenly become more photogenic..didn't happen! I look like the old biddy telling National Enquirer reporters how the aliens landed outside my trailer, transported me off to their planet, and installed antennae in my hair curlers. I have, however, decided I don't really give a crap..because the way I see me, is not always the way others do. See...I can prove that!
So, I mentioned the other day the St.Olaf's mini re-union, and how my buddy Irene got to have a glimpse of things, right? Well, I didn't get around to hauling out my camera to capture the events for eternity, but others did. One such picture was of a fellow St.Olafer, Irene and myself. I could not do what I wanted, which was to hide, and not be a part of the process...so I had to do the next best thing..act like a lunatic..of course this resulted in a particularly gruesome imagine. Yuck! Saw the thing posted for all the world to view and instantly wished I could erase me. I noticed my two friends looked so lovely..how awesome for them, but how sad I looked like a washed out hermit, perhaps on heavy prescription drugs...My buddy calls me, and instantly goes on about what a great picture this was of me and my fellow "Rose'..."Huh???" Was she nuts? I had thought what a great picture it was of her, looking so happy, and although she has 1/2 a decade( I know, it's 5 years, but today I am thinking in decades, so bear with me)on me, she looked a whole decade younger! We argued over this picture, and basically what it proves is, we see ourselves totally different than those who matter to us . No doubt there are some folks who always see themselves looking fabulous, and I guess those are people with very high self esteem, that is certainly not something my buddy and I have an over abundance of. Clearly we both don't even have a smidgen of this. So, just speaking of a single picture taken when we are both heading into the real "Golden" age, made me realize something amazing.
Because I see her as someone who has accomplished so very much in her lifetime. She is incredibly strong, maybe much quieter than myself, in some ways, but. always thinking of others, before herself, extremely hardworking, very talented in so many areas, gifted with massive patience, and someone who has managed to drag me out of the depth of despair on numerous occasions, when I look at the picture of her laughing, and totally enjoying the moment, I see a beautiful picture..only marred by my withered old face.
So, I guess that is why we see others differently than they see themselves. We simply see the outside shell, while others see the whole package, with the inner beauty, that makes us smile, because it is a snapshot of them at their finest, when they are truly happy.
Yes..this has been a pretty tough decade, one of the hardest..it has given me more wrinkles, more grey hairs, more aches and pains than any other..but..I think it has also, only recently, taught me one of the greatest lessons...Just because I see myself one way, old and drained, those I care about, can see beyond that..so..perhaps I will allow more pictures? Maybe let myself be immortalized during times that make me truly and utterly happy..times with the world's greatest friends, ever!!!
Wednesday, 14 September 2016
Saturday, 10 September 2016
The Girls From St. Olaf's
St. Olaf's, a town somewhere in Sweden or Norway, made famous by the amazing Rose from Golden Girls. I never expected to become Rose from St. Olaf's, but according to my friend, who arrived to stand with me through this era of my life, that is who I am. She started calling me that because, I constantly commented about so many day to day things, comparing it to life in my small home town. I knew all the names of people and stories of their exploits, and habits, and often would go on something like this "Well, back in Stewart...we would..we had..so and so did", so Irene began calling me Rose from St. Olaf's. Hey, I enjoyed that, because, everyone loved Rose, right?
Well, I am not the only Rose out there. I grew up with a group of them! Just the other day, out of the blue, one of the Rose's, well..O.K. she isn't a Rose, she is more like Blanche, she likes to dress a wee bit racier than us Roses, and she likes to have her nails sparkle..so not quite as country mouse as the Roses, but still from St. Olaf's, showed up at my door. She had seen a post back in June of a sweater I commented wishing I could have. Much to my surprise, she got in touch with one of her talented friends, had it made, and drove from Vancouver Island, to my door step in the Peace, to deliver it! O.K. can you say, "Awesome"? Something like that is bound to make a person feel pretty damn special..and it did! There are few things in life that knock my socks off, besides politics, but this did. Why would someone do this? Because they are a St. Olaf's girl!!
See, my buddy who started the "Rose" business had the pleasure of meeting another girl from St. Olaf's for lunch with me. She sat and listen, and heard MG throw out the same names and stories I was forever telling, we mentioned the people in tandem, because that was our world. The lunch was filled with laughter, I believe we took Irene along on a trip back in time with us, and I know for a fact, she enjoyed her travels.She understands those of us who grew up in a very small isolated community are definitely unique personalities, but..we have an unusual connection, that few enjoy.
I think I have mentioned before, our "friend" base was very limited. We all had to learn to love one another, because we were all we had. O.K. there are some kids that I grew up with that the connection never happened. They were just kids who lived a street down, or..perhaps they lived beyond my allowed perimeters. Yes...I had rules that limited my distance...But those who I did "Hang with" (not sure if we used that term waaaay back then) became a part of my world, and, because our our small group, they have over time, become far more important than they were when I was a child.
I tried to explain the St. Olaf's syndrome to Irene. Funny, because it was a natural occurrence , explaining it, was kind of difficult, mostly because I don't really understand it myself. Oh, trust me, like every other group, we all discuss each other between ourselves. Sometimes one of us will do something out of the ordinary, and our little heads pop up. But, see, perhaps it is age, perhaps it is the fact that we as a group have all managed to live well over 1/2 a century, and maybe change our hair, change our life styles, but not a single one of us has changed who we are, so...when we discuss the "latest" it always ends with "but, we love her". Because, we do!! We have to!! All the St. Olaf girls allowed each of us, to become who we are. Our parents helped mold us, our community helped mold us, and our friends, perhaps molded us the most.
We had the regular "pretty girls", the "popular girls", the "smart girls" the "wild girls", and the "late bloomer" girls,,but, at this age, we have simply all become St.Olaf girls. The past is mostly forgotten, just the good stuff is allowed to come out of the memory box. See, that is the most wonderful part of this amazing select group, we all have bits and pieces of the same memories, and when we sit down, those memories become whole. We all have a key to that box, and without one of us, the past is not quite as clear as when we all open the box together.
The "bucket list" for all of us includes a get-together for the whole group. Unlike Blanche, few of us can drive the length of the Province to make another member of the group feel totally blessed, so it has become a difficult meeting to plan. Just talking about it is enough to make us feel excited, and..again, at this age, that is a pretty amazing thing (excitement that is). Perhaps the world is not quite ready for the lot of us to collect in one place? Perhaps some of us are afraid we won't fit in, we won't be quite as fabulous as some of the others? Life, even though we are suppose to be settling and having more time for relaxation, isn't quite at that point for most of us.
It will happen! Hopefully as Blanche says, not at the Pearly Gates. We are now all Golden girls, and we are the most amazing Golden girls, because we are all from St. Olaf's, a place filled with a past we all hold the keys to. I guess I am lucky to have this platform to be able to tell all my fellow St. Olafers,that I love and cherish each and everyone of you! And I thank you from the bottom of my heart for staying beside me on this ride!
Well, I am not the only Rose out there. I grew up with a group of them! Just the other day, out of the blue, one of the Rose's, well..O.K. she isn't a Rose, she is more like Blanche, she likes to dress a wee bit racier than us Roses, and she likes to have her nails sparkle..so not quite as country mouse as the Roses, but still from St. Olaf's, showed up at my door. She had seen a post back in June of a sweater I commented wishing I could have. Much to my surprise, she got in touch with one of her talented friends, had it made, and drove from Vancouver Island, to my door step in the Peace, to deliver it! O.K. can you say, "Awesome"? Something like that is bound to make a person feel pretty damn special..and it did! There are few things in life that knock my socks off, besides politics, but this did. Why would someone do this? Because they are a St. Olaf's girl!!
See, my buddy who started the "Rose" business had the pleasure of meeting another girl from St. Olaf's for lunch with me. She sat and listen, and heard MG throw out the same names and stories I was forever telling, we mentioned the people in tandem, because that was our world. The lunch was filled with laughter, I believe we took Irene along on a trip back in time with us, and I know for a fact, she enjoyed her travels.She understands those of us who grew up in a very small isolated community are definitely unique personalities, but..we have an unusual connection, that few enjoy.
I think I have mentioned before, our "friend" base was very limited. We all had to learn to love one another, because we were all we had. O.K. there are some kids that I grew up with that the connection never happened. They were just kids who lived a street down, or..perhaps they lived beyond my allowed perimeters. Yes...I had rules that limited my distance...But those who I did "Hang with" (not sure if we used that term waaaay back then) became a part of my world, and, because our our small group, they have over time, become far more important than they were when I was a child.
I tried to explain the St. Olaf's syndrome to Irene. Funny, because it was a natural occurrence , explaining it, was kind of difficult, mostly because I don't really understand it myself. Oh, trust me, like every other group, we all discuss each other between ourselves. Sometimes one of us will do something out of the ordinary, and our little heads pop up. But, see, perhaps it is age, perhaps it is the fact that we as a group have all managed to live well over 1/2 a century, and maybe change our hair, change our life styles, but not a single one of us has changed who we are, so...when we discuss the "latest" it always ends with "but, we love her". Because, we do!! We have to!! All the St. Olaf girls allowed each of us, to become who we are. Our parents helped mold us, our community helped mold us, and our friends, perhaps molded us the most.
We had the regular "pretty girls", the "popular girls", the "smart girls" the "wild girls", and the "late bloomer" girls,,but, at this age, we have simply all become St.Olaf girls. The past is mostly forgotten, just the good stuff is allowed to come out of the memory box. See, that is the most wonderful part of this amazing select group, we all have bits and pieces of the same memories, and when we sit down, those memories become whole. We all have a key to that box, and without one of us, the past is not quite as clear as when we all open the box together.
The "bucket list" for all of us includes a get-together for the whole group. Unlike Blanche, few of us can drive the length of the Province to make another member of the group feel totally blessed, so it has become a difficult meeting to plan. Just talking about it is enough to make us feel excited, and..again, at this age, that is a pretty amazing thing (excitement that is). Perhaps the world is not quite ready for the lot of us to collect in one place? Perhaps some of us are afraid we won't fit in, we won't be quite as fabulous as some of the others? Life, even though we are suppose to be settling and having more time for relaxation, isn't quite at that point for most of us.
It will happen! Hopefully as Blanche says, not at the Pearly Gates. We are now all Golden girls, and we are the most amazing Golden girls, because we are all from St. Olaf's, a place filled with a past we all hold the keys to. I guess I am lucky to have this platform to be able to tell all my fellow St. Olafers,that I love and cherish each and everyone of you! And I thank you from the bottom of my heart for staying beside me on this ride!
Wednesday, 24 August 2016
Comfort Zone
Those who know me, understand the past year has been difficult. I have been on my own for much of it, and our family has had to make some pretty intense decisions. Heading into my 6th decade, life is handing me a massive change, not the first, but definitely one of the hardest to attain.
Many years ago, we moved from the trailer we purchased here to a huge home. It was awesome! Our house was one of those that was always filled with young people. I have to wonder about that, as I know I am not the easiest person to deal with, but I am very glad my children's friends have all been able to overlook my negative attitude, and felt welcome in our home. It made life busy, and full, and never ever lonely. Many mornings I would wake up to find someone asleep on my couch, the basement would have 3 more, upstairs sometimes even more. Sure some days I hated that the whole highschool had at one time or another seen me at my early morning worst, but, besides always ensuring I was fully clothed at all times, it was a good feeling that every friend of my kids knew they had a warm place to crash after a party. It also ensured that my kids would come home, and..I knew their friends would simply open the front door and go to sleep, somewhere in this huge home.
Times have changed. Now the house is far too big. I have found a small area in it, and that is where I camp out. It doesn't even look the same! I can wander about and remember those house filled times, but, it is empty, the memories may linger in the space, but they are in my head and heart, so they will never leave. Everyone else has left. Those kids are now grown ups, and, they may not realize it, but I am proud of each and everyone of them. But once again, in my world, another generation has headed off to live their adult lives, and this time, I am left with only my dogs for company.They don't seem to care how much space they have in the house, their world is fine if they have enough outside.
So...the change is , I have reached the place that I must move along, I am ready to go almost full circle back to where my life began. It would be an easy matter if all I had to do was pack up my clothes and personal belongings, and hit the road, but, it's not that easy.
We have this house. I call it a house now, because it is no longer a home. It is a piece of amazing property, that has brought our family a sh*tload of joy, and a million memories. Memories of Easter egg hunts with the Grandchildren, and high school graduations, and farewell parties of the most amazing friends. Not so much the house, but the property it sits on.
The yard, well, that hasn't changed, nor will it ever, really. I imagine someone else will keep the firepit, I hope they keep my little bench that allows me serenity. I hope they don't decide to cut down the huge tree that stands plop in the middle of the back yard, filled with birds in all seasons. I know, it sucks every drop of water so no matter how hard one tries, it is impossible to grow grass around it, but, even in the middle of winter, one can enjoy a snow free spot, under the heavy canopy.
See, I have worked very hard for the past 3 months, erasing my family from the house. Rooms that my kids made their own, have now been emptied, painted and re-floored. The kitchen has all new appliances.I don't think a single birthday dinner has been made with that oven. The counter tops are brand new..no marks from someone slicing cheese without a cutting board. Not a single mark on the new floor from something smashed from someone goofing about. There are no gobs of dog hair floating and collecting in corners, no slobber marks on the windows. The drawers are not stuffed with pimple remover, and hair products, instead they are empty.
I have put it up for sale. Wow, talk about leaving one's comfort zone. I now have opened the door, not to my children's school mates, or my dear friends, but to total strangers. What an uncomfortable place for someone like me, who has lost the ability to socialize. How difficult to want to have someone else fall in love with something that has provided so much to my life, but...dreading the actual personal interaction.
I did have my very first showing last night. Sent one dog off for a play date, and the other one had to deal with getting tied up, far enough away that the viewer was able to take everything the backyard offers in. I am grateful, it was way easier than I had imagined. Perhaps that is because it is easy to give a pitch for something so amazing. Oh, the first moment was awkward, but, he made it very easy, and although he is only the first, and I am not done, I am glad he was first.
My friend has talked me into having an open house. Hey, I want to sell, so..I am open to anything that offers the opportunity for more to see what is beyond the "blue door". But I realize I am not the right person to stand there answering questions while folks I don't know wander through what has for 12 years, been my personal space. That job is for my friend and my daughter. They are both much nicer than me! Yes I could have simply hired a realtor, to do all of this, but..again, they didn't live here, this doesn't hold a single memory for them, how can they possibly sell something they have not felt? This is not just a house and a yard, this is a place for memories, and to sell, one has to speak from the heart.
I am past the point (I think) of caring who buys, I want this whole business to be over with. I am ready to say good-bye. I have the pictures and the memories all packed up, but what I don't understand is, after the unending work, and the jobs I tackled that went way beyond what I thought was my ability, and the feeling it would never reach the finish line..why do I not feel that sense of relief? I am hoping that comes soon, because I am really very tired of erasing, and very tired of existing in this lonely small space, that no longer feels mine. Definitely time to go "home"!
Many years ago, we moved from the trailer we purchased here to a huge home. It was awesome! Our house was one of those that was always filled with young people. I have to wonder about that, as I know I am not the easiest person to deal with, but I am very glad my children's friends have all been able to overlook my negative attitude, and felt welcome in our home. It made life busy, and full, and never ever lonely. Many mornings I would wake up to find someone asleep on my couch, the basement would have 3 more, upstairs sometimes even more. Sure some days I hated that the whole highschool had at one time or another seen me at my early morning worst, but, besides always ensuring I was fully clothed at all times, it was a good feeling that every friend of my kids knew they had a warm place to crash after a party. It also ensured that my kids would come home, and..I knew their friends would simply open the front door and go to sleep, somewhere in this huge home.
Times have changed. Now the house is far too big. I have found a small area in it, and that is where I camp out. It doesn't even look the same! I can wander about and remember those house filled times, but, it is empty, the memories may linger in the space, but they are in my head and heart, so they will never leave. Everyone else has left. Those kids are now grown ups, and, they may not realize it, but I am proud of each and everyone of them. But once again, in my world, another generation has headed off to live their adult lives, and this time, I am left with only my dogs for company.They don't seem to care how much space they have in the house, their world is fine if they have enough outside.
So...the change is , I have reached the place that I must move along, I am ready to go almost full circle back to where my life began. It would be an easy matter if all I had to do was pack up my clothes and personal belongings, and hit the road, but, it's not that easy.
We have this house. I call it a house now, because it is no longer a home. It is a piece of amazing property, that has brought our family a sh*tload of joy, and a million memories. Memories of Easter egg hunts with the Grandchildren, and high school graduations, and farewell parties of the most amazing friends. Not so much the house, but the property it sits on.
The yard, well, that hasn't changed, nor will it ever, really. I imagine someone else will keep the firepit, I hope they keep my little bench that allows me serenity. I hope they don't decide to cut down the huge tree that stands plop in the middle of the back yard, filled with birds in all seasons. I know, it sucks every drop of water so no matter how hard one tries, it is impossible to grow grass around it, but, even in the middle of winter, one can enjoy a snow free spot, under the heavy canopy.
See, I have worked very hard for the past 3 months, erasing my family from the house. Rooms that my kids made their own, have now been emptied, painted and re-floored. The kitchen has all new appliances.I don't think a single birthday dinner has been made with that oven. The counter tops are brand new..no marks from someone slicing cheese without a cutting board. Not a single mark on the new floor from something smashed from someone goofing about. There are no gobs of dog hair floating and collecting in corners, no slobber marks on the windows. The drawers are not stuffed with pimple remover, and hair products, instead they are empty.
I have put it up for sale. Wow, talk about leaving one's comfort zone. I now have opened the door, not to my children's school mates, or my dear friends, but to total strangers. What an uncomfortable place for someone like me, who has lost the ability to socialize. How difficult to want to have someone else fall in love with something that has provided so much to my life, but...dreading the actual personal interaction.
I did have my very first showing last night. Sent one dog off for a play date, and the other one had to deal with getting tied up, far enough away that the viewer was able to take everything the backyard offers in. I am grateful, it was way easier than I had imagined. Perhaps that is because it is easy to give a pitch for something so amazing. Oh, the first moment was awkward, but, he made it very easy, and although he is only the first, and I am not done, I am glad he was first.
My friend has talked me into having an open house. Hey, I want to sell, so..I am open to anything that offers the opportunity for more to see what is beyond the "blue door". But I realize I am not the right person to stand there answering questions while folks I don't know wander through what has for 12 years, been my personal space. That job is for my friend and my daughter. They are both much nicer than me! Yes I could have simply hired a realtor, to do all of this, but..again, they didn't live here, this doesn't hold a single memory for them, how can they possibly sell something they have not felt? This is not just a house and a yard, this is a place for memories, and to sell, one has to speak from the heart.
I am past the point (I think) of caring who buys, I want this whole business to be over with. I am ready to say good-bye. I have the pictures and the memories all packed up, but what I don't understand is, after the unending work, and the jobs I tackled that went way beyond what I thought was my ability, and the feeling it would never reach the finish line..why do I not feel that sense of relief? I am hoping that comes soon, because I am really very tired of erasing, and very tired of existing in this lonely small space, that no longer feels mine. Definitely time to go "home"!
Monday, 8 August 2016
Automotive Screws
Well..here we go..off on a topic I haven't thought of in awhile, but one that drives me totally batty!
Has anyone gone to an automotive dealers service department? If so, I wonder, was it a pleasant experience? I highly doubt it, but..hey, anything is possible.
I just had a family member get hit by a shock, and boy, did it bring back some pretty awful memories. Warranty work that was totally covered, suddenly costing a chunk of money, because..while doing the repairs covered, suddenly other issues were noticed, and of course fixed willy nilly. Those issues, of course required immediate payment from our pocket. Money was handed over when service was suppose to be free.
See, I live a life of budgeting. Every single penny has some hand out waiting for it. Vehicles, well, yes, they are a necessary expense, but, when it is an issue that the manufacturer is liable for, and has sent out a message telling us to go on down..the price is right..FREE..it should be something one doesn't become concerned about. No worry about the money, because none necessary. Go ahead, you will have to suffer some inconvenience, but your hand can stay out of your pocket...even coffee is free..well sometimes.
Warranty work, I think, is a way for service departments to sock it to the unsuspecting. Last trip we made, ended up costing an extra $1500 for issues we did not even know about. Top that off with the fact that the one issue we actually requested they address, they claimed we were imagining. We were not..in fact less than one week after dishing the money out for the things we didn't request, we got hit with the result of them not finding the issue we requested they fix.
See, I have to keep my eyes open when we deal with sh*t like this. Last time, my honey went to the counter before I could get there, and took the smack in the head, quietly. I should have been faster, because..I think what they do is pretty darn close to criminal.
When you take a vehicle in for a particular issue, they request your phone number. I have to wonder why they do this. You would think if they come across something out of line, they would pick up the phone and call the listed number to inquire what you would like them to do. Nope! No call, they just take it upon themselves to do whatever suits their fancy, and then have the girl behind the counter type up a really neat invoice listing all sort of labour costs, and parts, that if you don't have a mechanic ticket, you can't possibly decipher.
My whole family once sat at a dealer service department.We were out of town for Christmas shopping, and decided to go on in for one of those Winter Tune ups they advertise for a pretty decent price. There we all sat, kids impatient to go shopping, parents going snakey trying to keep them seated. It seemed to take a very long time, and then I saw the guy wave us over to the counter. I had the cost of this tune up in my purse, separate from the gift shopping money. Well..imagine my shock at the price on the bottom. Apparently they replaced ball joints, along with the $129. tune-up. WTF??? Well, as I have said before, life has always been a little touch and go..money has to be spread out thinly, and back then, it was tough going. That bill, took up the allotted cash, plus the gift money, plus some of the bill money in the bank.
I lost it. See, I don't like people taking advantage of others, and I especially don't like that uncomfortable feeling of having strangers being "intimate" with me against my wishes. We were not alone in this area, but I didn't care. I informed the counter person that they had screwed up our whole Christmas. I told them Santa would not be visiting my kids, thanks to them. I told them they had no right to do work that was not requested, and that they had all the opportunity to walk across the hall and speak directly to us, because we had sat like bumps on the wall waiting right from the start.
We didn't walk away with having to only pay for the tune up..that would have been perfect, however, we did leave having to only pay for the parts. I have done this before..go in for an advertised special and end up with some massive costs, because the advertised special didn't include your make of parts. See..its the major matter of them having the means to contact you..why do they take the number, if they can't seem to call? The first one..I got at the advertised price..because I was "making a scene" and they wanted me out of there. I didn't go off the deep end because I wanted to make a scene..I went there because someone screwed me, and didn't even whisper in my ear.
Times around these parts are getting pretty tough now. Folks are not getting the great big pay days because they worked a month straight, 12-14 hours a day. There are fewer zeros on the take home pay. Costs have not dropped, income has. Fort St John has had a nice run of things. Lots of young people with money to burn, new vehicles for oil patch jobs, ATV's, restaurant meals, big staff parties, high priced homes..that is over. Each and every business in this city will suffer, as those patch workers struggle to attempt to survive this bust.
Business knows exactly what is happening to its customers. The same customers who allowed them to flourish during the good times. Why on earth would a business feel the need to screw those who helped them along the way? I can guarantee those folks working for the business are feeling the pinch, and know there is not a whack of extra cash sitting in many pockets, because , yep..cash is likely slimmer in their own. They must understand a warranty job is one that is paid for by someone other than the vehicle owner..cripes... they will get the payment for this job. So, instead they don't do the warranty job, instead they claim to have found something major besides it, screw everything up, so it is incapable of leaving the facility it managed to drive to, and hand over a bill for absolutely nothing!
I imagine they expect the person to dig through the lint and find that spare money hidden away for these surprise costs. Again..I believe they themselves do not have this spare money..so where is it to appear from?
Times will turn again for this city. It has happened before, this time, maybe it will take just a little longer than the past. Screwing loyal customers is definitely not something one should be doing, when times are tough. Warranty work can certainly be done elsewhere, and when you stop selling new vehicles, and folks try and get by with some duct tape fixing, the fact that you can't be trusted, might just be enough to close your doors! You get more bees with honey..you start handing out crap..folks will just go where things are a little sweeter!
Has anyone gone to an automotive dealers service department? If so, I wonder, was it a pleasant experience? I highly doubt it, but..hey, anything is possible.
I just had a family member get hit by a shock, and boy, did it bring back some pretty awful memories. Warranty work that was totally covered, suddenly costing a chunk of money, because..while doing the repairs covered, suddenly other issues were noticed, and of course fixed willy nilly. Those issues, of course required immediate payment from our pocket. Money was handed over when service was suppose to be free.
See, I live a life of budgeting. Every single penny has some hand out waiting for it. Vehicles, well, yes, they are a necessary expense, but, when it is an issue that the manufacturer is liable for, and has sent out a message telling us to go on down..the price is right..FREE..it should be something one doesn't become concerned about. No worry about the money, because none necessary. Go ahead, you will have to suffer some inconvenience, but your hand can stay out of your pocket...even coffee is free..well sometimes.
Warranty work, I think, is a way for service departments to sock it to the unsuspecting. Last trip we made, ended up costing an extra $1500 for issues we did not even know about. Top that off with the fact that the one issue we actually requested they address, they claimed we were imagining. We were not..in fact less than one week after dishing the money out for the things we didn't request, we got hit with the result of them not finding the issue we requested they fix.
See, I have to keep my eyes open when we deal with sh*t like this. Last time, my honey went to the counter before I could get there, and took the smack in the head, quietly. I should have been faster, because..I think what they do is pretty darn close to criminal.
When you take a vehicle in for a particular issue, they request your phone number. I have to wonder why they do this. You would think if they come across something out of line, they would pick up the phone and call the listed number to inquire what you would like them to do. Nope! No call, they just take it upon themselves to do whatever suits their fancy, and then have the girl behind the counter type up a really neat invoice listing all sort of labour costs, and parts, that if you don't have a mechanic ticket, you can't possibly decipher.
My whole family once sat at a dealer service department.We were out of town for Christmas shopping, and decided to go on in for one of those Winter Tune ups they advertise for a pretty decent price. There we all sat, kids impatient to go shopping, parents going snakey trying to keep them seated. It seemed to take a very long time, and then I saw the guy wave us over to the counter. I had the cost of this tune up in my purse, separate from the gift shopping money. Well..imagine my shock at the price on the bottom. Apparently they replaced ball joints, along with the $129. tune-up. WTF??? Well, as I have said before, life has always been a little touch and go..money has to be spread out thinly, and back then, it was tough going. That bill, took up the allotted cash, plus the gift money, plus some of the bill money in the bank.
I lost it. See, I don't like people taking advantage of others, and I especially don't like that uncomfortable feeling of having strangers being "intimate" with me against my wishes. We were not alone in this area, but I didn't care. I informed the counter person that they had screwed up our whole Christmas. I told them Santa would not be visiting my kids, thanks to them. I told them they had no right to do work that was not requested, and that they had all the opportunity to walk across the hall and speak directly to us, because we had sat like bumps on the wall waiting right from the start.
We didn't walk away with having to only pay for the tune up..that would have been perfect, however, we did leave having to only pay for the parts. I have done this before..go in for an advertised special and end up with some massive costs, because the advertised special didn't include your make of parts. See..its the major matter of them having the means to contact you..why do they take the number, if they can't seem to call? The first one..I got at the advertised price..because I was "making a scene" and they wanted me out of there. I didn't go off the deep end because I wanted to make a scene..I went there because someone screwed me, and didn't even whisper in my ear.
Times around these parts are getting pretty tough now. Folks are not getting the great big pay days because they worked a month straight, 12-14 hours a day. There are fewer zeros on the take home pay. Costs have not dropped, income has. Fort St John has had a nice run of things. Lots of young people with money to burn, new vehicles for oil patch jobs, ATV's, restaurant meals, big staff parties, high priced homes..that is over. Each and every business in this city will suffer, as those patch workers struggle to attempt to survive this bust.
Business knows exactly what is happening to its customers. The same customers who allowed them to flourish during the good times. Why on earth would a business feel the need to screw those who helped them along the way? I can guarantee those folks working for the business are feeling the pinch, and know there is not a whack of extra cash sitting in many pockets, because , yep..cash is likely slimmer in their own. They must understand a warranty job is one that is paid for by someone other than the vehicle owner..cripes... they will get the payment for this job. So, instead they don't do the warranty job, instead they claim to have found something major besides it, screw everything up, so it is incapable of leaving the facility it managed to drive to, and hand over a bill for absolutely nothing!
I imagine they expect the person to dig through the lint and find that spare money hidden away for these surprise costs. Again..I believe they themselves do not have this spare money..so where is it to appear from?
Times will turn again for this city. It has happened before, this time, maybe it will take just a little longer than the past. Screwing loyal customers is definitely not something one should be doing, when times are tough. Warranty work can certainly be done elsewhere, and when you stop selling new vehicles, and folks try and get by with some duct tape fixing, the fact that you can't be trusted, might just be enough to close your doors! You get more bees with honey..you start handing out crap..folks will just go where things are a little sweeter!
Sunday, 7 August 2016
Moments of Clarity
Some of you know what life has been like for me, especially the past 2.5 months. I have been living in my house, that is no longer a home, and at most times, it has been filled with strangers. Definitely one of the most stressful times of my life. I admit, I have not been at my best. Temper flares continually. I imagine I am going to kick the bucket more than once a day, and usually hit the bed, wondering if I am going to wake up. Even the dogs stay their distance. Poor dogs, I have not been a very nice companion to them, and they are the only companionship I have. Hope they forgive easily. I keep promising them it will get better, and while doing that I am attempting to convince myself.
The drama that has unfolded has truly made me believe Murphy's Law rules my world, and although I have tried to embrace that fact, some moments just throw me for a loop. Those moments, I feel very sorry for myself. I think part of the problem is, besides the dogs, I have no cornered victims to listen to my constant whining, and I am actually getting sick of myself!
Granted, I have found myself in a predicament. I am in a place that has taken all control away from me, and caused me to rely on strangers to fix things. They don't have anything riding on their time schedules, and I have to hurry up and wait constantly. I think this would probably tick off even my most patient friends, and those friends are always trying to boost my spirits. I appreciate their support, and like anyone else, love to wallow in their sympathy. Sure, sometimes I know they are getting fed up with my wha whaaing, but I do have some pretty awesome friends.
However, every so often I am smacked with a moment of clarity. What I am dealing with is not deadly (well maybe if the stress level goes off the charts). It is not chronic, there will be an end to it(hopefully before my end). And, I am alive, somewhat sane (a tad intermittent) and reasonably healthy.
Things could be a sh*tload worse. I am not like my BFF, I have not been dealt the C card, and had to fight for my life. I have not lost a loved one. Life may be altered beyond recognition for this period of time, but, it is going to go back to "normal", unlike so many others.
I just wish those moments would happen more often. They are like medication for my Murphy bouts.If I could just focus on the positives! Well, those who know me well, and of course my family, have nicknamed me Debbie Downer..or Negative Nelly, so..obviously thinking positive is not my best ability.
I wonder, all those folks who throw out the little life lines to "buck up" and "tomorrow will be a better day", do they think this more often than I do? How wonderful life would be if I could simply wash today right out of the picture. Today has been filled with poop, after yesterdays poop, but not a problem, because when I wake up tomorrow, which will be today (right?) things will suddenly be poop free! Gosh, imagine what an amazing person I would be. I just wouldn't even be able to handle me! Smiling all the time..hey I would be a whole lot quieter, because I certainly wouldn't have a single thing to b*tch about, so why would I even consider opening my mouth?
Sadly, moments of clarity just don't happen near enough. Life probably would be much easier if they had began back in high school, and I had an open mind to study and be smart. But...that didn't happen. Even then I must have simply decided there was no sense in trying to study, because I was just going to blank out when the test was placed in front of me (yep..happened just that quickly), so save the time and energy, trust I would fail, and learn to deal with it.
Hey, I have gotten better with time. Over the decades I have come to understand, I can manage an awful lot more than I ever imagined. Just sometimes I step back into my regular routine, and don't trust myself. Fine, I still haven't won the bloody lotto, and for some obscure reason, I keep trying. If I can believe I actually have a chance of winning that, well sh*t, I can certainly believe that almost anything is possible.
Going to try and work on changing the clarity moments into hours. I am pretty easily addicted to things like potato chips, and caffine..so perhaps if I put some effort into this, I can begin to see things clearly, and offer Murphy a more appealing place of residence, with someone stuck in the darkness.
My little glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel has actually started glowing, and it brings with it a big bundle of hope. Funny as I was writing this last sentence, I suddenly remembered my High School Graduation song..I CAN SEE CLEARLY NOW, by Johnny Nash. Yes, I am definitely a slow learner, I graduated in 1974...but finally catching on!
The drama that has unfolded has truly made me believe Murphy's Law rules my world, and although I have tried to embrace that fact, some moments just throw me for a loop. Those moments, I feel very sorry for myself. I think part of the problem is, besides the dogs, I have no cornered victims to listen to my constant whining, and I am actually getting sick of myself!
Granted, I have found myself in a predicament. I am in a place that has taken all control away from me, and caused me to rely on strangers to fix things. They don't have anything riding on their time schedules, and I have to hurry up and wait constantly. I think this would probably tick off even my most patient friends, and those friends are always trying to boost my spirits. I appreciate their support, and like anyone else, love to wallow in their sympathy. Sure, sometimes I know they are getting fed up with my wha whaaing, but I do have some pretty awesome friends.
However, every so often I am smacked with a moment of clarity. What I am dealing with is not deadly (well maybe if the stress level goes off the charts). It is not chronic, there will be an end to it(hopefully before my end). And, I am alive, somewhat sane (a tad intermittent) and reasonably healthy.
Things could be a sh*tload worse. I am not like my BFF, I have not been dealt the C card, and had to fight for my life. I have not lost a loved one. Life may be altered beyond recognition for this period of time, but, it is going to go back to "normal", unlike so many others.
I just wish those moments would happen more often. They are like medication for my Murphy bouts.If I could just focus on the positives! Well, those who know me well, and of course my family, have nicknamed me Debbie Downer..or Negative Nelly, so..obviously thinking positive is not my best ability.
I wonder, all those folks who throw out the little life lines to "buck up" and "tomorrow will be a better day", do they think this more often than I do? How wonderful life would be if I could simply wash today right out of the picture. Today has been filled with poop, after yesterdays poop, but not a problem, because when I wake up tomorrow, which will be today (right?) things will suddenly be poop free! Gosh, imagine what an amazing person I would be. I just wouldn't even be able to handle me! Smiling all the time..hey I would be a whole lot quieter, because I certainly wouldn't have a single thing to b*tch about, so why would I even consider opening my mouth?
Sadly, moments of clarity just don't happen near enough. Life probably would be much easier if they had began back in high school, and I had an open mind to study and be smart. But...that didn't happen. Even then I must have simply decided there was no sense in trying to study, because I was just going to blank out when the test was placed in front of me (yep..happened just that quickly), so save the time and energy, trust I would fail, and learn to deal with it.
Hey, I have gotten better with time. Over the decades I have come to understand, I can manage an awful lot more than I ever imagined. Just sometimes I step back into my regular routine, and don't trust myself. Fine, I still haven't won the bloody lotto, and for some obscure reason, I keep trying. If I can believe I actually have a chance of winning that, well sh*t, I can certainly believe that almost anything is possible.
Going to try and work on changing the clarity moments into hours. I am pretty easily addicted to things like potato chips, and caffine..so perhaps if I put some effort into this, I can begin to see things clearly, and offer Murphy a more appealing place of residence, with someone stuck in the darkness.
My little glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel has actually started glowing, and it brings with it a big bundle of hope. Funny as I was writing this last sentence, I suddenly remembered my High School Graduation song..I CAN SEE CLEARLY NOW, by Johnny Nash. Yes, I am definitely a slow learner, I graduated in 1974...but finally catching on!
Wednesday, 6 July 2016
Too Late
This is not the first time I have royally f*cked up..nor will it likely be the last. But..it is a big one!!
Over the 30 some years my sweetness and I have been together..we have ventured into renovations, far too many times! I hate it..worse, I HATE, living in it. Gyproc dust in your nose, in your hair, in the freaking butter...not a single inch of room that does not contain either a tool, or a bit of building material, or paint, or"mud". The smell of polyurethane hanging heavy like the morning dew, burning the crap out of your eyes.
Generally by the time a project is done, it may look lovely, but the cost of arguments, and labour, usually has me viewing the finished job with hate. The price monetarily is always far less..free labour is cheap...but holy cow, physically it is expensive.
I believe this latest project has increased my grey hair percentage by about 40...I see myself as I brush my teeth, and gasp in shock. I have enormous bags under my eyes, I wouldn't call them bags anymore, they are more like steamer trunks! I try not to look, because I now resemble a bag lady..someone who lives on the street. I no longer own a piece of clothing that any thrift shop would accept. I live on caffine, nicotine, and potato chips, with the odd chocolate bar sucked back when I need an energy boost. I work in my pajamas until I have to enter a room with windows facing out to the road, and then must put some "real" clothes on, in case someone glances into my curtainless windows.
My "living" area is void of anything now. Almost every ceiling and every wall has been painted. I have taught myself to do the jobs my honey usually does, because he is not here to help. I am doing this project basically solo. Daunting is the word best used to describe this period.
Over time, I admired independent women, one in particular, who seemed capable of doing absolutely anything...well, in truth, she can. I, on the other hand, know my limitations, and they are many. I am not adverse to hard work, done that for most of my life, so although age is creeping up quickly, and I no longer have the ability to wait for a second wind..because the first wind blows out pretty fast, I know I can stand the test. I just understand, I am not the smartest, or handiest human, so big jobs scare me.
I am in the midst of one of these big jobs. I managed to paint and mud, and sand, almost a whole house, but..this job..what a bloody headache.
We have hardwood in our home. Oh..I was so thrilled to get this stuff. Hate, hate, hate carpet. When we bought the house the livingroom had carpet. It also had a wood stove in it. Who the F*ck does this? Sure the wood stove was set on a tiled area, but..anyone who has experience with these things, knows, sometimes when you go to fill them up, things pop (embers) and they can fly a great distance..in fact they can fly right over the tile, and onto the carpet. Add to this, the mess of firewood being tracked into the house, then throw in some dogs, some kids, some grand kids, and you have a stinking mess with black spots. So...hardwood it was. Beautiful stuff! I am partial to light woods, so I got my way..lovely golden birch shiny flooring replaced the nasty carpet.
This stuff is engineered.whatever the heck that means. Well, I sort of know what it means..it means it is birch, but not all of it. It also has this amazing glossy clear finish, and...the big thing..it is capable of being refinished!
Well folks, stating it is capable is one thing, doing is a whole other matter. My beloved showed up to spend 2 days at home, so we could get this job done. We had the professional sander,we dished out big bucks for the clear coating, and applicators, and sand paper, pads, etc. We worked until well past midnight, sanding. He actually had me stand on the sander to add pressure, because nothing was getting through that amazing finish.Well..almost nothing..somehow my dogs managed to get through it over time..what the heck was going on?
2 days he was here, then he had to leave. The floor was not done, but..it had been sanded in spots, so we were now past the point of no return, and there I was..on my own. The sander guy sent us off with this paper that could take the skin off an elephant..but..surprise..whoever engineered this coating could use it to armour elephants!
So after some tears, and the urge to crawl into a corner and curl up into a ball, I called the folks that sold us this flooring. She laughed when I explained what was happening, and then told me not to worry. All I had to do was sand the top, to create a surface, and then happily set about applying the clear coat.
Sounds easy, eh? NOT!!! So far I have managed to put two coats on 2 floors, the areas that did get sanded, well they are sucking that coating in..the surface sanded ones (which are the majority) are just getting nice and glossy. So..again..this project is too far gone, it has to be completed. Now I have to spend my day, flitting about, coating the sanded areas a couple of times so they take on the gloss of the rest of the floor.
I am grateful to know that amazing woman who can do anything on her own, I have to bring her to mind in the midst of all of this, because right now, I need to be just like her! I don't want to be like her, I want to pick up the phone and call someone who knows what they are doing, and just grab a glass of wine, and relax outside, watching the river flow..but I can't.
This, of course, will pass. It will eventually be finished, and like many projects in the past, it will look lovely..but...right now, I wish it was carpet, and all I would have to do is rip it out and replace it. This time, I realize, somehow, I will manage, but, I also realize, next flooring I get, is definitely NOT going to be hardwood!
Over the 30 some years my sweetness and I have been together..we have ventured into renovations, far too many times! I hate it..worse, I HATE, living in it. Gyproc dust in your nose, in your hair, in the freaking butter...not a single inch of room that does not contain either a tool, or a bit of building material, or paint, or"mud". The smell of polyurethane hanging heavy like the morning dew, burning the crap out of your eyes.
Generally by the time a project is done, it may look lovely, but the cost of arguments, and labour, usually has me viewing the finished job with hate. The price monetarily is always far less..free labour is cheap...but holy cow, physically it is expensive.
I believe this latest project has increased my grey hair percentage by about 40...I see myself as I brush my teeth, and gasp in shock. I have enormous bags under my eyes, I wouldn't call them bags anymore, they are more like steamer trunks! I try not to look, because I now resemble a bag lady..someone who lives on the street. I no longer own a piece of clothing that any thrift shop would accept. I live on caffine, nicotine, and potato chips, with the odd chocolate bar sucked back when I need an energy boost. I work in my pajamas until I have to enter a room with windows facing out to the road, and then must put some "real" clothes on, in case someone glances into my curtainless windows.
My "living" area is void of anything now. Almost every ceiling and every wall has been painted. I have taught myself to do the jobs my honey usually does, because he is not here to help. I am doing this project basically solo. Daunting is the word best used to describe this period.
Over time, I admired independent women, one in particular, who seemed capable of doing absolutely anything...well, in truth, she can. I, on the other hand, know my limitations, and they are many. I am not adverse to hard work, done that for most of my life, so although age is creeping up quickly, and I no longer have the ability to wait for a second wind..because the first wind blows out pretty fast, I know I can stand the test. I just understand, I am not the smartest, or handiest human, so big jobs scare me.
I am in the midst of one of these big jobs. I managed to paint and mud, and sand, almost a whole house, but..this job..what a bloody headache.
We have hardwood in our home. Oh..I was so thrilled to get this stuff. Hate, hate, hate carpet. When we bought the house the livingroom had carpet. It also had a wood stove in it. Who the F*ck does this? Sure the wood stove was set on a tiled area, but..anyone who has experience with these things, knows, sometimes when you go to fill them up, things pop (embers) and they can fly a great distance..in fact they can fly right over the tile, and onto the carpet. Add to this, the mess of firewood being tracked into the house, then throw in some dogs, some kids, some grand kids, and you have a stinking mess with black spots. So...hardwood it was. Beautiful stuff! I am partial to light woods, so I got my way..lovely golden birch shiny flooring replaced the nasty carpet.
This stuff is engineered.whatever the heck that means. Well, I sort of know what it means..it means it is birch, but not all of it. It also has this amazing glossy clear finish, and...the big thing..it is capable of being refinished!
Well folks, stating it is capable is one thing, doing is a whole other matter. My beloved showed up to spend 2 days at home, so we could get this job done. We had the professional sander,we dished out big bucks for the clear coating, and applicators, and sand paper, pads, etc. We worked until well past midnight, sanding. He actually had me stand on the sander to add pressure, because nothing was getting through that amazing finish.Well..almost nothing..somehow my dogs managed to get through it over time..what the heck was going on?
2 days he was here, then he had to leave. The floor was not done, but..it had been sanded in spots, so we were now past the point of no return, and there I was..on my own. The sander guy sent us off with this paper that could take the skin off an elephant..but..surprise..whoever engineered this coating could use it to armour elephants!
So after some tears, and the urge to crawl into a corner and curl up into a ball, I called the folks that sold us this flooring. She laughed when I explained what was happening, and then told me not to worry. All I had to do was sand the top, to create a surface, and then happily set about applying the clear coat.
Sounds easy, eh? NOT!!! So far I have managed to put two coats on 2 floors, the areas that did get sanded, well they are sucking that coating in..the surface sanded ones (which are the majority) are just getting nice and glossy. So..again..this project is too far gone, it has to be completed. Now I have to spend my day, flitting about, coating the sanded areas a couple of times so they take on the gloss of the rest of the floor.
I am grateful to know that amazing woman who can do anything on her own, I have to bring her to mind in the midst of all of this, because right now, I need to be just like her! I don't want to be like her, I want to pick up the phone and call someone who knows what they are doing, and just grab a glass of wine, and relax outside, watching the river flow..but I can't.
This, of course, will pass. It will eventually be finished, and like many projects in the past, it will look lovely..but...right now, I wish it was carpet, and all I would have to do is rip it out and replace it. This time, I realize, somehow, I will manage, but, I also realize, next flooring I get, is definitely NOT going to be hardwood!
Friday, 24 June 2016
I'm A Meanie
O.K. first off, this is probably going to upset some folks..However..if they are upset, then they are part of the reason the world is filled with participant ribbons.
Just to be clear, I understand I am not well educated in raising a special needs child. That said, I am aware enough to realize those parents that do, deserve a special hug, because I do understand raising a child period, is difficult, let alone having to work with special needs.I respect the patience you must have. I respect the fact, that like most parents, you have an overwhelming urge to protect your child, that is "normal" for all of us.
But...today I read an "open" letter written by the mother of a Downs Syndrome boy, regarding the lack of invite to a classmate's birthday party.I saw that there were 23 children in the class, and 22 apparently received invitations. According to the letter her son was the only one not invited.
Fine, I understand she had to deal with her son upset he did not get invited. Perhaps the reason was his Downs Syndrome. That is sad. Yes, the letter went into detail explaining how she understood the birthday child's parent may be uncomfortable, and fearful, as she was before she had her child. It was a lovely letter..however....This is why the world is such a mess.
May I say, after she posted this "open letter" the birthday child's mother did indeed give the boy an invitation...In my hard hearted opinion, this was wrong!! What the hell??? The child did not get invited to a private party. So, for the rest of his life, is his mother going to pen letters each and every time he is not included in something?
Holy crap!! Growing up my friend's circle would rotate, sometimes we would be at odds with one another, and..surprise..left out of something all my other friends were part of. Did it hurt? Damn right it did!! I would sit at home, in a very small town, knowing that everyone else was in a group, having fun..I wasn't! Did I ever do this hurtful thing myself..yep..sure did!! Of course there were the really popular people who were included in absolutely everything, but along with the majority of kids I grew up with, sometimes our feelings got hurt.
Now, as little as I know about Downs Syndrome, I can imagine this child was hurt, and as painful as the feeling of being left out is for your average child, I assume one with the innocence of this child, and the gentle heart, this would have been devastating.
It is simply sad. But, it is also reality. Again, I would not want to be in this mothers shoes, trying to comfort her child, but, the birthday child's mother should not have been publicly chastised like this. Sure, her name wasn't on this letter, but..for goodness sake, the world has become very small with social media..she knew she had been singled out.
So..the child's mother is upset because her son was singled out, and not invited to a party, she in turn singles out the other child's mother. Sorry, but again, if the invitation had not been given, the birthday child's mother would definitely be in a very uncomfortable position with the mentality of the world today.
Why did this parent choose to write an open letter regarding something as personal as a birthday party? I believe we have gone too far to the left. I never expected my parents to give a rat's behind whether I went to "Bill Mike Moe's" birthday party. Cripes, it was likely they appreciated not having to dish out for gifts, each invitation I was not given. I had to learn, sometimes mean things happen.
So, as a parent, if I had even considered doing something like this, and then the other parent had relented, and invited my child..would I have sent them? NOT EVER!! What satisfaction results from this whole matter? The uninvited has pushed to be invited, and now will attend a party, where everyone will have to be on their best behaviour to ensure the comfort of one child.
For crying out loud..as awful as this seems, it has become a problem. Everyone else having to bend to appease one. We will continue getting no where, there is always going to be some minority that is unhappy, we cannot make everything a Fairy tale. Life hurts, for everyone, at some moment. I don't care if you are covered in pimples, if you have a missing or deformed limb, if you are fat, skinny, black, white, have a birthmark, poor, lack of continence, allergies, or..even perfect...at some point in time, you will not be included in absolutely everything you want, in the world.
Yes, I would hug the poor child, left out of the invite, I would hug any child left out, because as one who grew up in the real world, I understand that feeling. Because I understand that feeling, I can sympathize.But, I also understand, this will happen far more as the child grows older. So now will he expect to take part in everything?
Hug your child, cry with him, feel his pain, but do NOT turn the tables, and make another child, feel like a piece of crap because of this. Sorry, but from my point of view, this is what the mother accomplished..she got what her child wanted by making someone else uncomfortable. She should have kept this between herself and the other mother..not thrown it out to the bleeding heart mob, to ensure the other family had no choice.
The world has been unfair to me, probably you, as well. I would definitely love to sail through every day without getting hurt. I wish I could wrap my own children up in bubble wrap to ensure they never got hurt, but they have. I am heartbroken when my grand children are hurt, and want to go beat those who hurt them up...but that is not reality. I hope my children and in time my grand children learn, like I have had to, life is not fair, but, we are all in the same boat at one time or another...and there is always someone close by to help them paddle!
Just to be clear, I understand I am not well educated in raising a special needs child. That said, I am aware enough to realize those parents that do, deserve a special hug, because I do understand raising a child period, is difficult, let alone having to work with special needs.I respect the patience you must have. I respect the fact, that like most parents, you have an overwhelming urge to protect your child, that is "normal" for all of us.
But...today I read an "open" letter written by the mother of a Downs Syndrome boy, regarding the lack of invite to a classmate's birthday party.I saw that there were 23 children in the class, and 22 apparently received invitations. According to the letter her son was the only one not invited.
Fine, I understand she had to deal with her son upset he did not get invited. Perhaps the reason was his Downs Syndrome. That is sad. Yes, the letter went into detail explaining how she understood the birthday child's parent may be uncomfortable, and fearful, as she was before she had her child. It was a lovely letter..however....This is why the world is such a mess.
May I say, after she posted this "open letter" the birthday child's mother did indeed give the boy an invitation...In my hard hearted opinion, this was wrong!! What the hell??? The child did not get invited to a private party. So, for the rest of his life, is his mother going to pen letters each and every time he is not included in something?
Holy crap!! Growing up my friend's circle would rotate, sometimes we would be at odds with one another, and..surprise..left out of something all my other friends were part of. Did it hurt? Damn right it did!! I would sit at home, in a very small town, knowing that everyone else was in a group, having fun..I wasn't! Did I ever do this hurtful thing myself..yep..sure did!! Of course there were the really popular people who were included in absolutely everything, but along with the majority of kids I grew up with, sometimes our feelings got hurt.
Now, as little as I know about Downs Syndrome, I can imagine this child was hurt, and as painful as the feeling of being left out is for your average child, I assume one with the innocence of this child, and the gentle heart, this would have been devastating.
It is simply sad. But, it is also reality. Again, I would not want to be in this mothers shoes, trying to comfort her child, but, the birthday child's mother should not have been publicly chastised like this. Sure, her name wasn't on this letter, but..for goodness sake, the world has become very small with social media..she knew she had been singled out.
So..the child's mother is upset because her son was singled out, and not invited to a party, she in turn singles out the other child's mother. Sorry, but again, if the invitation had not been given, the birthday child's mother would definitely be in a very uncomfortable position with the mentality of the world today.
Why did this parent choose to write an open letter regarding something as personal as a birthday party? I believe we have gone too far to the left. I never expected my parents to give a rat's behind whether I went to "Bill Mike Moe's" birthday party. Cripes, it was likely they appreciated not having to dish out for gifts, each invitation I was not given. I had to learn, sometimes mean things happen.
So, as a parent, if I had even considered doing something like this, and then the other parent had relented, and invited my child..would I have sent them? NOT EVER!! What satisfaction results from this whole matter? The uninvited has pushed to be invited, and now will attend a party, where everyone will have to be on their best behaviour to ensure the comfort of one child.
For crying out loud..as awful as this seems, it has become a problem. Everyone else having to bend to appease one. We will continue getting no where, there is always going to be some minority that is unhappy, we cannot make everything a Fairy tale. Life hurts, for everyone, at some moment. I don't care if you are covered in pimples, if you have a missing or deformed limb, if you are fat, skinny, black, white, have a birthmark, poor, lack of continence, allergies, or..even perfect...at some point in time, you will not be included in absolutely everything you want, in the world.
Yes, I would hug the poor child, left out of the invite, I would hug any child left out, because as one who grew up in the real world, I understand that feeling. Because I understand that feeling, I can sympathize.But, I also understand, this will happen far more as the child grows older. So now will he expect to take part in everything?
Hug your child, cry with him, feel his pain, but do NOT turn the tables, and make another child, feel like a piece of crap because of this. Sorry, but from my point of view, this is what the mother accomplished..she got what her child wanted by making someone else uncomfortable. She should have kept this between herself and the other mother..not thrown it out to the bleeding heart mob, to ensure the other family had no choice.
The world has been unfair to me, probably you, as well. I would definitely love to sail through every day without getting hurt. I wish I could wrap my own children up in bubble wrap to ensure they never got hurt, but they have. I am heartbroken when my grand children are hurt, and want to go beat those who hurt them up...but that is not reality. I hope my children and in time my grand children learn, like I have had to, life is not fair, but, we are all in the same boat at one time or another...and there is always someone close by to help them paddle!
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