I may poke fun at toddler/babydom and myself a lot on this site, but let me set the record straight, I am an optimist (or as much as one as I can be while also being a realist). I know that my life is fantastic and am thankful for it every time that I am lucky enough to wake up to another day of it. Do I have bad days? Fuck yes I do, but for the most part, I am a glass half full kind of gal (unless it is beer or wine, then it is best to order another just in case the waitress doesn't come around for a while). Even with the crappy hand I have been dealt this year, with a colicky baby, moving, family troubles, friendships being tested, my brother being murdered, my mother's slow decent into dementia and my daughter's surgery, I feel incredibly lucky. I choose not to dwell on the bad stuff and instead focus on the good in myself and in others. I don't gossip, I try not to be too judgmental and I all around try to treat others how I wish to be treated. Bad words in our house are stupid, fat and ugly, not shit and fuck.
Why on earth am I blabbering on about this, well, first off, I am having withdrawals from Lexapro so I am extra cray cray right now. Second off, I have just read a true testament to how mean people can be for no reason and feel the need to say something. Feel free to log out and tune back in tomorrow. Totally understandable.
I read the blog Enjoying the Small Things. Yes, it is sometimes a bit too puppy dogs and rainbows for my taste, but it is well presented and gives a little light to days that are sometimes a bit too heavy. While browsing through my Google Reader account yesterday, I saw that the blog writer, Kelle Hampton, announced that she is pregnant with her third child. How exciting.
For those of you that don't read it, Enjoying the Small Things is Kelle's story of life after her second daughter was born with down syndrome. Her and her husband had no clue until Nella was born that she would have DS. The first few days that followed were a shitstorm of emotion for Kelle that she very honestly shared with the world. She wasn't all, "Oh my miracle baby. What a blessing." She was more, "Why the fuck me? This sucks balls and I want a normal baby." Good for her for being honest. It took her a few days, but soon she realized that Nella was everything a baby could be and more, and fell in love with her for who she was, not what she had. She now documents the life that she and her husband lead raising their two girls and his two sons. It is sweet. It is light, it is what it is. A blog about enjoying the small things in life, like fat baby feet, and sand, and popsicles.
Well, after reading her happy news yesterday, I was curious as to how old Kelle was so I Googeled it. What I found were a series of mean-spirited blogs that basically make it their calling to hate Kelle and her blog. They comment on her 15-year age gap between her and her husband, is she a home-wrecker, gold digger, bad writer, etc. Just flat out mean things that really have no place in the world. What she is a great mother who takes the time to document the little things that make her life happy and the journey that she is on raising a special needs child.
These snarky bloggers won't be there on the day that she has to explain to her oldest child why the children at school are calling her little sister bad names and making fun of her. They won't be there when Kelle has to sit Nella down and tell her that she may never be able to have children because it is much harder for people with DS. What is the point in pontificating on things that may be "wrong" with her. Sure, she is pretty, well-dressed and seems to live the perfect life. She also has the responsibility of raising a special needs child in a world that isn't always very accepting. Let her have cute shoes. Pour youself a glass of pinot to wash down your chill pill. If you don't like it, don't read it. Don't read it just to be a bitch about it under the veil that is the internet.
I just don't see what being horrible to someone does for anyone. Just be nice. It is much easier and feels a lot better than being mean all the time. Life is hard enough without having to deal with asshats who do nothing but find things to be angry and evil about. If you wouldn't want it done or said about you, don't say or do it to anyone else. Simple. Easy. Even my two-year-old understands it.
Anyway, stepping off my soapbox and returning to the brain zaps and dizziness my withdrawals are causing. Carry on.