This is a short, grumpy post that I should probably not hit "publish" on, but sometimes this blog is my venting space, and I feel like I will get past these feelings sooner if I try to pin them down with words. So indulge me a moment, and I will post about Mold-A-Ramas and the like again soon.
With apologies for being vague (since some stories are not mine to tell), one of my kids was pulled out of a school event that they've been looking forward to for over a year and I'm angry. I get the problem, and I don't specifically fault the school since the people making the decisions were at the district level, not the teachers, but I do not think the way things were handled was fair, and the decision had the potential to exacerbate the situation they were supposedly trying to mitigate.
In any case, I did everything I could to advocate for my kid, and since the decision left my hands I've been trying to just accept things and come to peace with it. It's all okay. The world certainly didn't end. Compared to the nightmare I was living through a year ago at this time, this is like a dream scenario. Life is good.
But then there is Facebook. And blow by blow updates from happy parents nervously fretting about their kids off on an adventure. I had expected to be one of those parents. Instead I'm reminded with each post that I feel my kid was denied something they had earned and it hurts. I don't want to resent those other families. I don't for a minute wish anything but the best for those other kids. I hope they have a fabulous time.
I just don't want to hear about it. At least not right now. Is that petty?
I feel a little like I did the first year or so after my dad died and I really didn't want to hear other people's stories about their dads. Father's Day was painful. (Father's Day is still painful.) I don't begrudge anyone their happiness. I just sometimes have trouble juxtaposing it with my loss.
I understand that we know things intellectually, and that we can't control how we react emotionally, but there is also the image in my mind of the person I strive to be, and that person is better at all of this. Or at least better at accepting all of this.
Until I figure it out, I think I will stay off Facebook as much as I can afford to. It's not helping.
The silver lining in all of this has been my kid, who is grappling with their own mix of emotions and reality and is doing it with a grace and maturity that I find astonishing and deeply reassuring. That's more than enough to sustain me. (As long as I avoid the jabs of other people's updates, at least for now.)