Tag Archives: post a day

You Wouldn’t Understand

“You wouldn’t understand. You’ve never had kids.”

“It’s not like you have kids or anything.”

Without a doubt, those are some of the most hurtful words I’ve ever heard.

I ended a 40 year friendship because of that remark.

Hearing my XH say those words to me marked the beginning of the end of our marriage.

And today I heard them from a co-worker.   From the last person I ever thought would say such a thing.  From someone who should know better than to say something like that to a co-worker. From the HR Director.

It may have been an off-hand comment with no intention to be mean and hurtful.

But it hurt.

And it seemed mean.

She didn’t know if I was “childless by choice”

She didn’t know if I struggled with infertility and was unable to get pregnant.

She didn’t know if I was able to get pregnant but not carry a baby to term.

She didn’t know if I was able to carry a baby to term but there were complications and the baby didn’t survive.

All she knows is “No, I don’t have children” and she used that information against me to prove a point in a senseless debate that she probably won’t remember tomorrow.

But I’ll remember that conversation for a long time. And it will affect me for a long time. And it will color my relationship and all my future interactions with her and will limit what kind of personal information I choose to share with her and, possibly, other co-workers.

And that will make me seem “standoffish” and “cold” and she’ll never understand why . . .






Filed under 2 legged kids, coping, ex-hubby, family, grief, PostADay, Stuff, Work

Crabby Appleton

Crabby Appleton is a term my mom used when we were little kids to describe our attitude when we were having a bad day . . . grumpy, in a bad mood, everything was terrible . . .

Today I was Crabby Appleton . . . in a bad mood for no apparent reason . . . everybody was twanging on my last nerve . . . everything was frustrating . . . if I didn’t know better I’d think it was PMS . . . but do post-menopausal women get PMS . . .

I saw a cartoon on FB that showed a cat as a therapist . . . asking the human patient if they had “tried pushing a bunch of shit off a table?” . . . and I laughed . . . then thought that might make me feel better . . . but I didn’t want to clean up the mess . . .

So I did the  next best thing . . . I got out the lawn mower and cut the weeds in the front yard . . . it hasn’t rained a lot here lately and the grass is dead but the weeds are still growing . . . the yard looked better . . . then I decided I needed to edge the sidewalk and the driveway because, well, weeds . . . and I have this fabulous new mower and trimmer and haven’t used them at all . . .

What do you know . . . it did make me feel better . . . the yard looks nicer . . . even though the grass is dead . . . and the sidewalk is nicely trimmed . . .

Thank you, my darling Prince Charming, for teaching me that yard work can be therapeutic . . . I’ll have to work on the back yard over the weekend . . .


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Filed under coping, grief, Play, PostADay, Prince Charming