Vacation Ends, You Can Find Me Left of Center

Kate at One More Thing is doing a weekly carnival of sorts, choosing a topic for other bloggers to write about.  This week’s topic is “Vacation”.

Our vacation this year was spent in North Carolina, where Husband spent nearly the entire time building a greenhouse for his parents.

He didn’t think it would take the entire week, but with some rain delays and just the added time anything takes when you do something you’ve never done before, just about our entire vacation was gone.

Husband felt bad that we didn’t really get to do anything fun, that I was stuck in the house.  Their home is thirty minutes from the nearest civilization,  and even that isn’t a hotbed of activity.  Most of my time was spent playing with son, playing on my computer, or doing housework for my mother-in-law.

There really is no reason for him to feel bad, I told Husband.  My entire life is a vacation.  I don’t have to go to work.  I get to have fun every day – taking Son to the playground, to the water park, to the library.  I can stay home in my PJs and spend the day swimming, playing Go Fish and cuddling a very cute 5 year-old as we take an afternoon nap.

I get to do what I want, when I want, all day long. And I get to do it with the most spectacular little blessing G-d has ever given me.  I feel so lucky that I get to do this.  It’s almost as if it’s some big secret that I should be protecting.  That if  someone figured out how great my gig was it would come to an immediate end.

I always knew it had to end – just like all vacations.  The brochure specifically stated that the all-day togetherness trip lasts only five years (unless you take the optional homeschooling rider, which I declined for the health and well-being of all involved) before a rider than changes everything kicks into gear.

And that change is now only five days away.

Because on that 5th day Son starts kindergarten.  And the best vacation I’ve ever taken in my life goes on hiatus for six hours a day.  And I move from being the center of his world to just left of center as he takes his place in a new sub-world, without me.

Sure, I’ll still spend lots of time with him.  And sure, it’s all part of growing up.  But I will forever miss this precious time we’ve had together, just the two of us.

And I’ll be forever grateful to G-d and to Husband for sending me on this five-year vacation.  I can’t wait to see what fun Son and I can cram into six less hours a day, as we inch towards age 15 when I will be so far from the center of his world that he’ll likely want me to walk two paces behind him in public.

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How Do They Sleep At Night? Vol 2: MySpace Impersonators

This is part 2 of a series about people who screw people, sometimes for a living.

How Do They Sleep At Night? Part 2-MySpace Impersonators

There are few news stories from the past few years that have disturbed me as much as this one. A young girl committed suicide after parents of an friend of hers opened a MySpace account, created a profile of a young boy, and used it to first gain her trust, then berate and harass her. They instigated the cruel joke, they say, to see if the girl was talking trash about their daughter, from whom the girl had recently become estranged. Perhaps it even started out that way, but it became more about the rush they got wielding the power to hurt a young, vulnerable girl.

Suicide is always tragic, even more so when it involves a child. This girl, already troubled, struggling with her weight and self-esteem, reached her limit. We all know that things would have gotten better, but the poor girl didn’t, couldn’t see past the despair and humiliation she felt lurked outside the door, and on her computer monitor. She wasn’t even safe in her own home.

The people who created the false MySpace account apparently didn’t break any criminal laws – at least not any currently on the books. The laws of humanity, though, were forgotten, or ignored, so that the impersonators could get a cheap thrill.

Are they responsible for her death? It’s true that they didn’t kill her, didn’t put the rope around her neck. I’m even sure that they’re genuinely sorry she’s dead. But they certainly did deliver what turned out to be a fatal blow to her spirit.

Even if she wasn’t troubled, there’s no excuse for such behavior. When children misbehave we say, “They should have know better.” But in this case it was an adult, a parent, saying such horrible things to a child. How could they? How could a parent say that to any child? THAT is the most unfathomable part of it to me, and to the parents I know.

If that weren’t enough, even as these barbs were arriving at their home via the internet connection, the Impersonators were actually imposing on the hospitality of Megan’s family by storing items at their house.

Those are some very, very large testicles.

I feel sorry for the Impersonators’ kids. They certainly aren’t getting many good lessons in character development. Who is teaching them to treat others how you wish to be treated, to share, to be kind? Who is teaching them all of the things I learned from my parents, and that were reinforced in Kindergarten? I hope they’re at least learning lessons on how NOT to be, otherwise I hope my son never runs across them…

How do the Impersonators sleep at night? If they do I hope Megan visits their dreams, and I hope that when they die G-d gives them the same consideration they gave Megan.

Like this post? Read the other post in this series!

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