Third of Three

There’s just something about the final birthday for the year passing.
The third of three birthdays, coming and going…
Coming then going with no phone call, no text.
Does no one realize that at some point all my nice, loving, forgiving tendencies will dissipate?
Does everyone really think that my Mommy defenses would forever stay small?
Can people really be so naive to think that by ignoring the little comments about the lack of love and support that these innocent kids receive, will help everything to be ignored from my end?
Come on people, are we really that insane?
I don’t personally care if you ignore my comments.
I really don’t care if you tell everyone I was mean or rude or disrespectful.
I do not care.
Not anymore.
Anyone who knows me, knows that I bend over backwards, take every knife to the back you toss and still smile to your face, try to please you, keep you happy also, because some part of me always felt responsible.
Always felt the need to…
Maybe that’s why it seems normal or acceptable in your mind to ignore the comments. It seems ok to behave as though it’s alright to ignore your kids for their birthdays.
All three of them.
I can assure you that the acceptance of the horrible way my children are treated by “you” will not be smiled upon forever. It actually just officially turned to a frown that you more than likely won’t ever succeed in turning upside down.
Not even this Christmas when the holiday spirit is filling my heart. When I’m happy and filled with joy and love; I surely hope you’ll understand when the love is not spread to you anymore than you spread it to us in our time of need. You’re showing us how to treat you.
Treat others how you wish to be treated.
Sometimes that’s a big ouchie.
In your case I have a feeling that you’ll be surprised. You’ll make everyone feel as though you’re a victim and that I’m horribly mean. Fortunately for me, I’ve grown over the past few years and I won’t care that you’re trying to swap things on me. I’ll remember the 11 other months of the year and I won’t feel bad when we’re to busy for you. If I do start to feel bad though, it’ll be ok because those three kids won’t.
They’ll remember.
They’ll remember that you didn’t ask what was going on. They’ll remember that you didn’t offer any kind of help or even call to simply say I love you.
I never thought I’d see the day where I would tell my baby that you said hi, happy birthday and that you love them and they’d say please stop mom, just stop.
A friend of mine today said “it’s so sad” and the funny thing was, I wasn’t sad.
Not anymore.
These actions that seem to only get worse as time goes by aren’t sad to me anymore. They’re not worth my tears. Now the words that come to mind are pathetic, disgusting, ridiculous, mind-boggling (because I won’t ever be able to wrap my mind around it) and again, pathetic; that one keeps coming up for some reason….
This is the birthday that I thought would be the hardest; I really thought he would struggle the most. These kids though, they never cease to amaze me. This was actually the best. Not one tear. Not one “why” or “what if”, not even one. He woke up happy, got home from school happy and went to bed happy. He told me who called, who texted and messaged and laughed about who “has been alive all this time” Who would’ve thought!?
I’m not as strong as he is; I would have had to respond to every single message, even if it was just to be smart…
Not him though, the ones he didn’t feel like answering, he didn’t. Not worth it to him.
I’m so proud of him. So proud of the young man he’s becoming. All of them really, they all stick up for themselves better than I ever could have.
I hope as the third of three birthdays came and went you had time to ponder whether it’s all been worth it or not. I hope playing dumb and naive has been worth it; because not only has my patience and forgiveness worn thin, but they’ve also grown up. Another year has passed and you’re clueless as to what’s going on. That’s you. Not me. At some point your actions will get reactions and I pray you’re ready for them.




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