Keyboard Warriors

So last night, that silly Tooth Fairy letter resurfaced in a really big way. A page on facebook with almost 4 million fans posted it, but of course - without the backstory. Without a link back to my page or my blog. Without my permission.

It happens all the time. All the time. I should be used to it by now, and for the most part I do ignore it. I'll read a few comments, throw the link to my blog up there, and let it go.

This time was different. This time, the comments were mean. Hateful. Judgmental. Way worse than usual. Sure, there were a few positive ones, but they were quickly buried under the ones touting my inept parenting skills.

Of course, since the letter wasn't credited to me, people didn't know who they were insulting. They sat there behind their keyboards, casting stones at someone who wrote a letter to an 11 year old girl as a joke. Even after they read the blog post, they continued.

Emotional violence. She should be ashamed. What a horrible mother. That woman doesn't even deserve to have her kids. She should take parenting classes.

The ones that hurt the most were the ones who insinuated that I was a horrible person for raising my kids in a broken home:

(This thread of comments on the post has since been deleted. I think.)

Broken home. No father figure.

The last thing that I ever wanted was for my family to not be "normal" with a mother and father and kids. I never planned to get divorced, and certainly didn't plan to do it twice. I fought like hell to keep it together, to keep it from being broken, and so I stayed.

But staying wasn't worth it. Staying wasn't safe, for me or for the kids. We had to get out. I had to "break" our home in order to keep them safe. I had to get them away from the violence.

Yes, we lived in an "icky" house for 3 1/2 years. But that icky house meant more to me than just about any other place we've lived. I learned more about myself in that house than ever before.

I know that the hate and the judgment and the Mommy Wars will never stop. As long as there is an internet, there will be keyboard warriors who get their panties in a wad and think that they are better than everyone else and believe that they are entitled to pass judgment on other people without knowing the background. It's never going to stop.

I tell my kids all the time - you can't stop other people from being jerks, but you can certainly control your own reaction to it.

Same thing applies to adults. Don't feed into the anger or the hate or the judgment - it's not worth it.

Sometimes I need to remind myself of the same thing.

March Madness

So apparently there was some basketball game on today. And I guess that there were a couple of teams from Kansas playing against each other. People seem to think that it's a pretty big deal.

I missed it. But I'm not upset about it at all.

Because if I would have sat in front of a TV all afternoon to watch a game, I would have missed out on a lot of other stuff.

The smell of a load of laundry hung outside on the line to dry in the breeze.....

Watching the boys playing made up games out in the yard for hours upon hours....

Finding little hidden gems around the yard - they might  be weeds, but they're still beautiful.

The first bouquet of the season, picked just for you, Mom!!!

The gorgeous sky.

The excitement as the boys discovered yet another crystalline rock in the yard....

Seeing the first blooms on the flowers that I planted last year....

I wouldn't have gotten more of the garden area tilled....

I wouldn't have heard the birds chirping in the trees that are just starting to bud...

I would have missed the sunset....

I would have missed the sheer joy on the boys' faces as they sat around the firepit after they got baths.

I would have missed the first glimpse of the moon.

And I would have missed the opportunity to make a wish on the first star of the evening.

So, no. I'm not too terribly upset that I missed a basketball game. 

On Sweatpants and Divorce

Sometimes, I really wish that those stupid "trending topics" on Facebook wouldn't catch my eye - but unfortunately they always do. Occasionally, there will actually be something interesting or informative or even amusing there, but most of the time I'm amazed at what people consider important enough to share so often that it starts to trend.

I'm not a reality show fan. I don't follow the lives of many celebrities. I'm not a very political person (much to The Dude's dismay). Gossip doesn't really impress me. You get the idea.

But today...... today, this one just won't go away.

The first time I saw it, I thought "what the......?" and ignored it. But it stayed there, taunting me.

So, I in my sweatpants-wearing glory, clicked on it and read the article. Honestly, I have no clue who Eva Mendes is, although I gathered from the article that she is the girlfriend of Ryan Gosling (and I do know who he is) and she has a baby who is apparently still rather young.

I read the article several times, and honestly, I can't tell if she was joking by what she said. “You can’t do sweatpants… ladies, number one cause of divorce in America, sweatpants, no!”

I hope she was joking. I really do. And I really hope that she clarifies that she was joking.

I've been through two divorces, and I can guarantee you that my love for sweatpants had nothing to do with either one. Out of my friends and family members who have gone through divorces, none of them mentioned sweatpants as a cause.

Domestic violence is a cause of divorce. Infidelity. Financial stress. Not prioritizing what needs to be prioritized. Lack of communication.Addiction. You know, important stuff.

But a woman choosing to wear sweatpants as the sole reason for a divorce? Seriously?

Maybe she wears them because they're *gasp* comfortable. Or maybe because it's laundry day and they're the only thing clean. Maybe her jeans are a little tight because she's put on a few pounds (as most humans do at some point in their lives) or hasn't quite lost all of the baby weight yet. Maybe she doesn't have a ton of spare time to do laundry and is saving her cute jeans for when she plans to leave the house to run errands tomorrow. Maybe she just wants to wear sweats because they're comfortable and she doesn't have to worry about whether or not they get dirty when she's working around the house.

And maybe she's doesn't give a rat's ass about what other people think about what she wears.