I wonder sometimes…

Traveling along this world of online journaling is an interesting experience. I, for one, don’t really expect that people actually read this (though, I know you do! and yay! I do love my 3 loyal readers!) as really, who really cares what I think? Even though each comment gives me a little thrill (yay! readers!) I still don’t write this FOR anyone else. I write it for me. Clearly I’m an exibitionist, or I’d never write at all, but in the end, it’s not for anyone else but me.

So what, dear Lessa, brings this up? Simple. People who use their space as weapons.

Now, now, I know what your thinking – the HORROR! and if it’s what you’re feeling, why shouldn’t you write it, since you write it for yourself, ultimately, anyway! Well, that’s not the kinda venting I mean. I mean deliberate attacks on another person, deliberate baiting them into a battle of words on a World Wide (Web) stage. I’m the first to tell people if they don’t like what they read here, to click the x – but admit it. We all like ‘watching’ just as much as we’re exhibitionists, and it’s like a trainwreck splayed open in pulsating burning carnage for our viewing pleasure!

This is why reality tv (of which i admit to an unhealthy addiction. heh) has such a wide audience. We want to see, we want to check in, we want other people to talk with about it “Did you see, did you know, omgwtfbbq!” We want to know that we’re not the only ones feeling this way, we want to feel suppior to those who have it worse, or don’t cope as well, or give ourselves something to live up to – be it actions, or words, or the way those words are applied, whatever.

But see – there’s reporting, relating our daily experiences, letting others into our lives – and then there’s the weaponry. Nothing bothers me quite so much as when the weapons of choice are children. We have a responsibility to raise our kids, the next generation, into well rounded, strong individuals able to find their own way in this world where other people don’t take that responsibility as seriously as we do. And it’s this thing, that last sentense right there, that totally fucks things up. We all believe our way is the One! true! way! to raise kids. My kids are better then yours, so on and so forth.

But there’s limits. My telling ladybug, for instance, that my kids? are SO much better then hers, is something we done for a long time, and neither of us really believe it. Because sometimes her kids ARE better! (Then, naturally, it’s because I’m their aunt. Heh.) The difference is that it’s goodnatured kidding out of love and fun, not out of actual belief that what I do is better then what she does. (Cause we all know it is. I mean. Yeah. Moving on. :p )

But people take it farther. Way farther. This box is NOT a place to use your children as a weapon against other people for any purpose. It’s not you who suffers, it’s not you who will be hurt in the end, and its ONLY you that you are thinking about. To become a parent is to no longer be selfish. You are not what matters, only the child. Your job is to now put that child first and do what is right for him or her. If that means getting a second job, do so. If that means accepting state aid, do so. If that means going without so that they can go with, do so. If it means putting off your happiness until later so that they can do/have something they need, DO SO.

YOU are the instrument in your child’s happiness. YOU are no longer the prime directive. The Child must be the focus of your will, and raising them correctly, NOT YOUR OWN SELFISH GAINS. To those who have forgotten that – I pity the children. You are doing irreversible harm. You are hurting the ones who should matter first.

It breaks my heart. You should be ashamed of yourselves.