Barbie Doll

This is blog three in a series of three. Read blog one here. Read blog two here.
I’ve never been much of a girly-girl. Sure I liked high-heels and make-up. Mini-skirts and dangle earrings. I also liked beer and fighting. So I blazed my own path. I’m not interested in opinion or advice (well some is ok).
It’s what I do.
I’m strong. I’m smart. I’m honest. I’m also Irish. That means I can take a punch and hold a grudge. Not necessarily in that order.
I got a pretty good kick in the teeth this week. But, like everything else, I survived. Not only will I survive. I’ll be strenghtened. Every aspect of my life will be better than it was.
I’m amazed at my family. We can do some jacked-up stupid things but no matter what, in the end, we have each other. It’s what we are. It’s who we are. It’s how we are. We are family… and all that crap!
Dylan has borne the brunt of the past week. He’s the one that needs to walk into the building every day. Face his team. His peers. It was the talk of the school. And it’s his walk to walk. And he has to do it alone. And he’s doing an incredible job.
I was angry. Really, really angry. At Pat. At the situation. At the over-reaction. At other things. That anger was starting to inform Dylan’s behavior. Last night during dinner we were talking and I didn’t like what I was seeing or hearing. Until I realized he was parroting me. I squashed it. Then and there. I let the anger go.
Nothing is more important than my family. Anger is useless and drags you to a level that’s not healthy.
I’ve talked a lot about the lessons for the kids and Pat. My lesson. I have courage and honesty. I own my mistakes and I let them make me better. As for the universe. I have one thing to say…
Next.
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