Tell Me How You Really Feel

I haven't been able to do a post. The range of emotion here has changed drastically from high to low. I felt it was unfair, until I calmed down and things settled more for me to.

There has been pride. Pride in how well my son has handled this. His non complaining, bearing his burden has almost been worse at times for me I think.

No...you can't ride a bike. No...you can't skate. No you can't jump on the trampoline.

"That's okay Mom, I'll just watch..."


There has been anger. Why? is no one acknowledging this? Why? do I feel sheepish when we didn't do anything wrong? Why aren't they doing anything? Why? aren't I doing more...


There has been apprehension. We want to keep the peace. We have to all live on the same street. Will this make more trouble by my decisions?


There has been resentment. He is the father. DO SOMETHING. Why is it left up to me. Or so it feels....


Last night I tucked Matty in bed and got his arm medicated and settled. He begged for a story from when I was a little girl, like always. The one I thought of, I thought at the time would comfort him...let him know that others have been in scary dog situations too. I think that that story popped into my mind for another reason...

As it goes, My brother and I had to ride our bikes past this pack of dogs that would run out into the street and nip at you and bark every time you passed. We only would go that way if we were riding our bikes up to UDF or something. My big brother was my protector and would divert the dogs attention and I would zoom past to safety when we went. Well one time after we passed them, my brother and I got into a fight. I, in a huff, said that I was turning around and going home! When it came time for me to pass them solo they came running and nipped and I flew past home crying and a mess.
My dad was so mad, he called the police. I don't really remember all that happened, but I do remember the police came, and I never had trouble with those dogs again...

When I told this to Matthew, he looked at me wide eyed, and asked if I had to get stitches too.

Well no...they didn't really hurt me like him.

"But your Dad called the police??"

Well, yeah. He did.

That's what my Dad did. He didn't care that we had to live next to the Beamans. I wasn't even severely hurt. But he stepped in and took care of things. He didn't wait for THEM to take care of things....

Yes, at the hospital we reported it. But we have just kind of waited since. Waited for what, I don't know. An apology? A pie? I don't think that is going to happen.

No....we are not pressing charges or anything to that extreme. But I did call our insurance agent, and the ball is rolling now. Things are going to be taken care. It should all be covered by their Home Owners. That is why you have it. I know now how they are feeling (all I really wanted to know from the beginning). A weight has been lifted from my shoulders...