It’s been brought to my attention by someone most influential in my life that a week has passed since my last blog entry. Well, far be it from me to let anyone down with my ability to blog. So, I’m taking a few minutes between checking emails and picking up toys to jot down a few thoughts.
I decided to take the kids to library story time today. The Superhero has become much more willing to sit and listen to stories lately, so I thought it would be an entertaining time for all of us. Now that he runs and gets books and demands that mommy or daddy read them to him, well, then I’m all over exploiting someone else’s reading skills. Extra bonus that we get to sing catchy tunes. So we headed over to Savage Library around 10. I had hoped I’d leave with enough time to swing by the dollar store on the way, but since it always takes me longer to get the morning chores done than I think it will, we went straight to the library. Read that as my friends are very busy blogging themselves, and I don’t want to be rude and not read the latest entry. I might learn some new tidbit about them or something. Anyway…
Story time was cute. The Princess was the loudest in the crowd shouting out letters and their various colors as the librarian spelled the word c-l-o-t-h-i-n-g on her felt board. That’s my girl – already an overachiever and she’s not yet 4. True, she’ll be 4 on Saturday, but still… she’s not 4 yet.
When we left story time we headed to Target to find some party gear for the Princess. Seems her mother is silly enough to allow her to have a couple of gal pals stay the night for her first slumber party. Four little girls ranging in age from 3 to 6 will be running through the house playing dress-up and taking turns getting their hair, make-up, and nails done. At least this same mother was smart enough to enlist the help of an eager-to-baby-sit 11 year old from church. This Helper Angel will save much sanity and probably add years to a mother’s (and father’s) life.
On the way to Target, I stopped behind a car at a red light. This car had a bumper sticker on the back that read “Dream it, Pursue it” It got me to thinking about something that was said to me back in November.
I will not go into the “who, what, why details” of the conversation in question. But I will share this: I was told I am a selfish brat.
Now, I will admit that I am many things (listed in no particular order of importance): a procrastinator, a freak, a generally happy person, someone who takes things a bit more personally than is often necessary, my worst critic, a woman of integrity. There are probably a few more labels that could apply – but in the interest of time, I’ll stop here.
My first reaction upon being called a selfish brat was to laugh. Given the situation, laughing would certainly have been a very big mistake. Instead, I chose to remain silent. Honestly, I was stunned. I mean, I know some people that I would consider to be selfish brats – and as far as I could tell, I didn’t exhibit any of the qualities I would associate with the term – the biggest of which being a complete lack of concern for any other being than oneself.
The more I thought about it, the more I defined a selfish brat as someone who gets what they want by demanding and expecting it from others. And then I started to wonder if I demanded and expected a lot from the people in my life. Well sure. But don’t most people demand and expect honesty, integrity, and respect (to name a few) from people? Is that asking too much?
And I do get the things I want in my life – the things I’ve always dreamed of: a loving and devoted husband, a strong family, a chance to be a stay-at-home mom. But only because of my commitment to the pursuit of those dreams. I work hard and make the necessary sacrifices to make my dreams real. And I’m not negating the help and sacrifices of my partner-in-crime… my One-and-Only… in achieving those goals at all. I certainly wouldn’t have what I have without his support or sacrifices either. We’ve both made them and will both continue to make them to maintain the life we demand and expect from ourselves, each other, and the people we hold most dear
So, with that in mind – sure: I’m a selfish brat.
And I wear that label with pride.
Go reiki, go reiki, get your brat on, go reiki – You own that label, girl. Oh, wait – grrrrl. Is that right, Lisa?
Being the onther person called a spoiled and selfish brat in the same situtuation I kind of like it know that I know what it means. Thanks for a great definition.
This is a quote from Buddha: Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it, no matter if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense. Guess I took that into account as I tried to define the term as it applies to me.
Damn. I thought spoiled brat was a kind of sausage – you know, a highly seasoned, minced meat (as in pork) usually stuffed into casings of prepared animal intestine – that had gone beyond its expiration date. Well, you certainly don’t deserve that label.
Go, Sandra, go. U R urban. Own it.