Last night Jo suggested we go out for dinner – yippee! I’m all for not having to cook. We loaded the mini-van with protesting kids (they wanted to stay home, maybe for some more of my hallucination-causing cooking?) and headed off to Licks, a family friendly restaurant (it’s kind of a goofy place, but the burgers are good and the kids can run around without causing a lawsuit against us). Anyhoooo, the only other family there happened to be Grace’s former “care”giver (dum dum dummmmmm!) Now, this “care”giver looked after Ms. Grace for under a year. It was during this time that Grace was going through her hitting phase and general two-year old mini-terrorist phase. Being a first time parent and not having any experience with kids whatsoever, I didn’t know that this was perfectly normal behaviour in two year olds. This “care”giver told Jo and I that Grace was abnormally aggressive, not capable of socialization and a general terror. She placed Grace on probation more than once. She had me convinced that Grace would become a danger to society. I also later learned that she used less than desirable time-out techniques on Gracie (my heart bleeds when I think about this). Jo had it after a particularly unpleasant exchange with the “care”giver and we found a new daycare for Grace that day in which she thrived. We also learned that, hey, two year olds hit and say no a lot, and that’s okay! I also developed a stomach burning hatred for this former “care”giver who I really feel caused a lot of stress between Grace and I for those few months.
Back to the restaurant. I’ve been into karma lately and thought I would be civil to this woman and her family, and besides, we were the only ones in the restaurant so it would have been weird if we didn’t acknowledge each other. I said hi, made pleasantries, cooed over her kids (who are not endearing at all) and went back to our table. Her husband never looked up from his meal to acknowledge me, and they slunked out of the restaurant without saying bye. This kind of cowardly behaviour really crawls up my ass. Get over yourself bitch and grab a pair. You screwed us, remember? You made me question my daughter, myself as a mother, my choice to return to work, you even made me question whether or not I should have another child, because I couldn’t bear the thought of having another “bad seed”. Fuck you. If I can put it all aside and say hello, hug your child and smile at you, you can at least not sneak out of the restaurant without acknowledging my family.
When Jo and I asked Grace if she remembered who that lady was, she said no. Thank you Jesus. At least she can close that chapter of her life. Wish I could do the same.