Cookies and Milk

Good Morning.

Thanks, Amanda. Your unwavering faith in me as a person is a gift. After reading your entry, I indeed went out to dinner. Over Pinot Grigio and a grilled chicken Caesar salad I tried to read a little more of my book, but found I couldn't because a) my eyes stung from crying all day and 2) I have reached that certain age where I now need reading glasses in addition to the glasses I've been wearing for distance for decades, and I didn't have them (or my progressive bifocals!) with me. So I just sipped and ate and came home.

Once home I still had a hankering for something. I poured another glass of wine, but it sat and got warm. Finally it came to me. I wanted cookies and milk. So I poured my wine down the drain, and got myself a glass of milk and a half dozen Girl Scout cookies. While I enjoyed the quintessential comfort combo, I thought of A, how some cookies and milk and a big hug might make her feel better. Then I wished I did have those auntie miles to fly around the world--because I'd fly to Poland to give her hug and bring her home....

As for you, dear Amanda, give yourself a break for screaming. I'd scream too if I had to deal with the bad manners and lack of respect. And, honestly, I don't think occasional bouts of hysterical ranting are damaging. Kids can shake it off and walk away, and do so with a snicker probably, muttering under their breaths something akin to crazy b*tch. Whatever. What hurts are calmly spoken, pointed, caustic character assassinations. Guilt trips and silence and emotional absence are difficult to recover from. In my opinion, neglect and disregard have more dire consequences than an occasional high decibel diatribe. Always remember, as in the classroom, grown up meltdowns are reactions to intolerable actions of kids. Not by any means the best reactions as parents or our proudest professional moments, but they come as a response--not out of nowhere because you're as crazy as a loon. :)

So there. Have a great day. Love, Barb