It’s back to school time! My kids don’t go back for one more week, but my niece, and university students everywhere are gearing up, and moving out!

My niece, Denise, is off to university in a major city, about an hour’s drive from her home.  Her parents, I’m sure, are worried about her going off by herself, and losing control.  I know I would be, I can worry about the university years already and if I really want to make myself sick, I can even imagine my kids driving…Ugh.

Anyway, thinking about Denise and her friends packing up and moving out made me remember a few years back-ahh maybe 20 or so, when I packed my parents minivan with all my stuff and they drove me to my university to live with a group of kids I didn’t know-off campus, no less.

I think my Dad’s first signal that things could get a little crazy, was when, as we were driving along the packed highway, waiting to exit with the rest of the other students and their parents, we saw the huge banners draped over the highway signs, leading all the way to campus.  They read “Thank you father’s, for your virgin daughter’s”, and variations there of.

Surprisingly there was not a u-turn to be seen, as parents trudged forth with their minivans and station wagons, to deposit their children at learning institutions where they KNEW that THEIR child would not get into trouble/not do drugs/not drink/not sleep around/not skip class.

We arrived on and off campus with our new binders, class schedules, Kraft dinner and a determination to have a great year!!  The first couple of weeks were a blur of pub nights and parties, and so much fun.  I soon learned that I was living a life I would never have expected, in a house where the partying was so intense that I often smelled hash when I arrived home from my 2pm class and found a roommate who could barely speak, he was so stoned.   Needless to say, he flunked out first semester and I never saw him again.  I had roommates who slept with different guys 3 nights out the week, and while I did like to go out on the weekends, I spent a lot of my time locked in my own room of the house, waiting for the year to end so I could get out of that hell-hole.

Well, all I can say is good luck to all the university students out there, living with other students and trying hard not to be too grossed out by sharing a bathroom with strangers.  Parents, don’t worry about them, they will be fine, and if anything, your children will come home with a newfound respect for all that you have done, and do.

They will likely also come home with their laundry, but that’s beside the point.

Yes, its true.  Apparently, sending a follow up email after an initial inquiring email, and a phone call go unanswered for a week is extremely offensive.   All I wanted to do was adopt a bunny that needed a home!  Honest, I wasn’t trying to threaten anyone when I stated that I preferred to adopt a bunny, instead of going to a breeder or a pet store.  Isn’t that the right thing to do?  Aren’t I all about caring and doing the right thing?  Hell, I care so much  that I won’t even kill bees and I carry spiders’ outside to freedom for @#$! sake!! 

Well anyway, the person who answered my email  called me a liar for saying the shelter’s didn’t have dwarf rabbits …here, read my email and then read her nasty response:

My second email

‘Hi
Just wanted to let you know that I am extremely disappointed to not have received a reply to date.  Providing a home for a rabbit that needs one is what we had decided to do, but unless we hear from you soon we will be moving on to plan B.  The humane society’s do not have any dwarf rabbits, so that will leave the breeders or the pet stores as our next option, which is a route I did not want to take.  Hope to hear from you soon.’

 
Here is part of the organization’s response, word for word:

‘This second email is very telling about you. Claiming shelters do not have dwarf rabbits?  This is  *organization name*, do you really think I dont know whats sitting in shelters? That I wouldnt already know there are many many of all shapes and sizes being euthanized in shelters every single day? If you honestly dont think there are small rabbits in shelters than I would suggest you try looking harder instead of sitting at a computer looking on websites ( which often dont list all their small pets) and sending out rude self entitled emails.

Read it again-I know you want to.  At the end of her note she told me not to contact her organization again.

So, I am a liar, stupid, lazy and irresponsible, simply for inquiring about adopting a bunny!! And not only that, but I’m also  a criminal!!!

WTF???  I dont even know this woman?! Obviously she has serious anger issues and needs some major therapy and medication.   

All I can say is it’s a damn good thing I didnt mention our two fish tanks or she might have called the cops!!Phew, that was close!!

And it’s a really good thing I didn’t mention the 3 horned caterpillars that we bought from the pet store the other day, to ensure they didn’t end up as lizard food.  That would have gotten me  over the legal pet limit for sure AND put in jail, and although some time away from home sounds good right about now, I’ve got an appointment with a rabbit breeder tomorrow to finally choose our new pet!

Paulina is fated to be a politician, although she believes she will be a veterinarian.

After a trip to the local provincial park at the beginning of the summer, one we love and frequent, where we saw baby bunnies and were lucky enough to hold them, Paulina has developed a new fixation.

It doesn’t matter that she has six dwarf hamsters, yes six, she is determined that she NEEDS to have a bunny.  Now this is a girl who doesn’t ask for much, and was devastated when told by her father that, no, she could not have a bunny while she has six hamsters.

So, now she is waging a full, yet subtle campaign, complete with small, slipped into the conversation hints and comments, bunny photos innocently appearing on her daddy’s desk and promises to name the bunny after him!!! 

Last night when hubby logged onto the computer to check his home email, he laughed to see that his new wallpaper is a full screen picture of an adorable baby bunny.  He just so happens to love bunnies, as his only pet as a child was a bunny (he is Italian and this is definitely another story!!) and so, he thought Paulina was very funny. (She was in bed and did not see his reaction!).

Today, she went a step further and changed his screensaver to swirling words that say ‘I love bunnies’ and the icon beside his name to yet another bunny pic.  He hasn’t seen it yet.

Pretty soon, he is going to have to crush her dream (again) of receiving a bunny for her birthday.  I don’t want to be there when he does.  I think I will suddenly need to do yet another load of laundry when he begins the dream crushing process.  She is a determined little campaign wager, so I assure you, this is going to get ugly.  U.G.L.Y.

My hubby is addicted to coffee from a certain local coffee/donut establishment.  We started to complain last summer when we had to stop there EVERY single time we got in the car to go somewhere, and he cut back on his trips.  Now when he goes, he buys each of the kids a donut hole and if it’s a long trip they may get two each.  So that is how he came to the car with a box of donut holes and told everyone they could each have one now and one later.  But guess what?  As Paulina doled out the first serving of donut holes, she commented that there were only 4 left instead of 5. 

 The frantic complaining that erupted was shocking, but not enough to make my hubby turn the car around and drive back to the store to complain, and retrieve the missing donut hole.  I would have.  I would have because I knew that breaking one of those little things in half, and making two kids share it was going to be a major ‘thing’.  And so it was.

Not quite sure how to start this post, but I feel obligated to send it, even though I feel completely stupid, and incompetent as a mother, and would prefer not to tell anyone this story, but for your safety’s sake, I will.

Hubby and I took the three older kids to see Harry Potter on Saturday night.  Paulina and I sat at the end of a row, and hubby sat in front of us with a son on either side of him.  A man took a seat one over from Paulina, and I was on the end. 

To make a long story short, I noticed this man, who was clean cut with short gray hair and nicely dressed, looking over at us fairly regularly.  He was alone, so I thought maybe he was just being friendly. 

By the time the movie was over, I was completely creeped out, and got Paulina out of the row as quickly as possible and then waited until he left, to leave the theatre.  I had this weird feeling he would follow us?

So we exited the theatre and Paulina said ‘did you see that man that kept staring at me?’ Well yes I did, but I wouldn’t have said staring, I would have said glancing, and I hadn’t thought she’d noticed.  But what did I know?  ‘He touched my hair, and told me to sshhhh with his finger to his mouth.’  UH, WHAT??????

At one point, Paulina had sat sideways in her chair and laid her legs across me, her head resting on the arm  rest that she shared with the empty chair between her and the man.  She asked me if she could have my sweater, which I was wearing, to put under her head and I said no because I was cold.  She said afterwards that she asked for it because she wanted to cover her hair with it.  It was when she was sitting like this that the man touched her hair, played with it, she said.  She sat up and snuggled closely to me when he reached out to her a second time. I thought she moved because she was cold, but was glad anyway, because I had seen this man occasionally looking at her. 

Why didn’t she tell me that he did that when it happened?  She told me that she thought he was telling her to be quiet, stop talking, (which we weren’t), but she’s a kid and gets told to stop talking and be quiet in public places, so she didn’t tell me.  Or her FATHER who was sitting in front of her, and who was NOT happy to be told after the fact.

Anyway, I freaked as much as I could with the kids present and insisted on reporting the incident to the manager and security, but the guy was gone.  Why didn’t I move us?  Tell my husband?  I don’t know.  I always feel like I overreact, and that I worry too much, so I tried to tell myself that he wasn’t looking at her in a weird way, after all she was with her MOTHER and FATHER, but you know, my gut told me something weird was happening, and finding out after the fact that a stranger touched my daughter’s hair in the dark theater and then told her not to tell, unbeknownst to me, was NOT a good feeling. How did this happen?  How did I not listen to my instinct and change seats?  Why didn’t she tell me?  My God, I feel violated and angry and stupid, and yet thankfully nothing serious happened, and Paulina is not upset about it, so I need to let it go. 

I hate myself for not trusting my instincts.  Next time I will.  I wish I had reacted differently, but I can’t change what happened.  I can tell you with certainty that I won’t be leaving my kids alone in the theater to run and get more popcorn anytime in the next 20 years, and I likely will keep my eyes on my kids, more than the movie screen, during a movie from now on too.