The moment where you realize that if you tell a person your exact opinion of what they are doing at the present time they will never speak to you again?
I have that moment at least twice a day.
Mr. Lovinangels is not cursed with the gift of tact. He spits out mostly what comes to mind, with little fear of repercussion. My kids are the same way.
I, on the other hand, spent my formative years the brunt of multiple verbal assaults, and having vowed never to be my mother, I edit my thoughts constantly. In a sense, it's a good thing. I've learned first and foremost to be kind. Is it good? Possibly. I'm sure on most days.
When it involves my child's jackass sperm donor blowing her off again? One of these days I should probably use the profanities that are floating around stinging in my head like nasty little bees. At least, he showed up this weekend, for once. Now, I'm cursed with the aftermath. She came home mad. Again.
Again, he picked her up and spent zero time with her while fixing cars and drinking beer. Yup, she's mad.
On the plus side, I know she views me as a "safe" person.
22 must have been a really drunk year for me. What the heck was I thinking? I should have run the moment I found out I was pregnant.
No, I did the right thing. She gets to know his family, and they're great. He sucks. I'm sorry, baby.
One day, I will learn to speak up when I'm mad. I promise. For now, I will just be quiet.
It's better for everyone.
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