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My daughter…

… is a better person than I am.  And the migraine I suffered with yesterday was probably my payback.  Sigh.

Sunday was the family birthday party for our youngest granddaughter who turns 1 tomorrow.  Of course The Ex would be there; I knew that.  It wasn’t that difficult to deal.  I just kept my distance from her and visited with other guests.

The woman is in bad shape so there’s a voice in my head telling me to cut her some slack.  The Ex has some sort of brain seizure condition and has had for at least five years.  As far as I know the doctors weren’t able to find a reason.  When we first heard about this there was some chatter about her having fallen from a horse and hitting her head.  That seems logical right?  But I don’t know whether the doctors were able to confirm it as the cause.  We hear tidbits now and then but we’ve never been interested enough to ask for more information.

On the other hand, another voice in my head tells me to bitch slap her.  Especially after what I saw Sunday.  😦

The birthday girl was sitting in Mommy’s lap, “opening gifts” with Mommy’s and Big Brother’s help.  One of the guests, who is a regular in the kids’ new home, brought his daughter A.  She looks about eight or maybe nine years old and she and Big Brother play together whenever she visits.  At first, A was sitting on the floor beside my daughter K who was taking photos as the baby’s gifts were opened and held up.  The Ex was seated on the steps up to the dining area collecting the used wrapping paper, etc.

Over a few minutes, A made her way in front of K and over beside where Big Brother was helping unwrap gifts.  This was nearer to where The Ex was sitting.  I’m not sure what exactly happened next to trigger The Ex’s response.  Maybe A and Big Brother were disagreeing over how to rip tissue paper out of a gift bag – as kids will.  Maybe A was just too close to the action.  Let me stress, I have no idea.  But The Ex’s response was OVER. THE. TOP.

She told A to go sit on the other steps (the ones at the other end of the living room, leading to the foyer and guest bathroom).  The girl’s face dropped.  But she got up.  I think she misunderstood which stairs because she went up the two steps to the foyer, crossed it and sat on the bottom of the stairway to the second floor.  I felt so awful for her.  She had to feel hurt and embarassed.  Not to mention now she was so far away she couldn’t see anything.

Later, when the cake was being served Birthday Girl’s mom looked around for her and asked if anyone knew where A was.  Her husband said that her dad was with her in the den having a “parenting moment.”  BG’s mom jumped to the conclusion that A was in trouble.  I knew better.  And when A did come out to the table to have cake I could see I was right.  It was obvious she’d been crying.  No, not crying.  Weeping!  Sobbing her heart out.  I wanted to take a hunk of birthday cake and smash it into The Ex’s face!

When we were making our exit later I didn’t acknowledge The Ex (I usually do if only to be polite).  But when I poked my head back in to check on our daughter K’s progress to the door, she was standing with The Ex and speaking with her – like a real person!  You know, smiling and nodding like she was interested in what she had to say, not just good manners.

So…my daughter is a better person than I am.  But then, don’t we hope to raise our kids to be better than ourselves?  I think this counts as a win!  Right?

Right?

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