Why is it those who are closest to you hurt you the most?
I have got to have something cheery and funny happen soon because lately my blog has become bummer central and previously I loved the fact it was pretty upbeat and funny (or so I would like to think) but today I had something big and bad enough happen that I want to get it off my chest. And as the blog is my vent space, I am venting.
Today was Ash's 8th birthday which was a big day for him and me. He is the baby and we woke up and I looked at his almost-grown-in two front teeth and again thought that my baby wasn't much of a baby anymore. He grinned up at me and unlike his older, more demanding siblings, all he wanted for his birthday was his family to be there. He, this birthday, did not ask for the usual (mom, can I have a laptop, a zebra, a trip to the moon).
Instead he asked me for his dad to come. He asked if we all could just hang out. He asked if we could do it at a playground so he could play. He wanted a cake that he had picked out and had told Jamie about. He wanted us all to go. That was it. He wasn't being his usual demanding self. He was upbeat and chipper and cuddly.
So I went off and Jamie and a friend pulled off the cake and they showed up. Michelle and I pulled together a few presents last minute even though the budget is so tight right now my eyeballs are being pulled out my ears. Ray came in from Madison because Ash asked him to, even though I am sure he had better things to do with his time and that it was vastly uncomfortable for him. We did it because it was all the kid asked for.
Mom asked, "What? Why would you want me there?"
I don't know why it hurts me so much that she didn't go. I don't know why it bugs me so damn much that when we pulled in and he looked around and he asked me where she was that I had to tell him she wasn't coming. He was cool about it. I don't know why it bugs me other than he is eight and he should not have had to be cool about it.
She should have been there.
And when I asked her why she did not come her answer was that simple, "Why? You did not need me there. Its not like I am his real grandmother."
If not her, who, exactly? She is my blood mother. She gave birth to me. I gave birth to him. He is my son and my life and I cannot comprehend how she can treat her grandchild with any less than the same love than she treats the rest of my kids.
But to say, well, fine, you are being unfair to my child and if you cannot treat my children equally, you cannot be around them, which would be the general solution to the issue in any other case, does not work in this case. Because to do so punishes not only her but my other two kids and my dad. And then I am the bad guy. A double edged sword in so many ways. Or continue to allow my youngest to be treated like... words fail me. A solution in this case has been such gray area for years and I have tried multiple different approaches and obviously nothing is going to work.
So what to do? Today was the straw on the camels back, that I know. I cannot look at that little kid, who I love so much, who is so full of life and has so much to give and watch him hurt for no better reason than an adult is playing petty games and does not care about his feelings. I am his guardian. I am the dragon at the gate. I must breathe the fire both literally and figuratively. I think a lot of parents forget that guardian means just that. We are the guard dogs.
I have to bite in this case.
I just wish that it wasn't my guardian that was making me growl.