The eviction……..


Today a bad thing happened. I knew it might, but I had to chance it as only a mother would. I had to give my little girl the chance to take part and enjoy a musical show. So there we sat and she shrieked a few times and made a few guttural sounds with excitement.First song, second song, snickering and turned heads from the other kids to see where the noise was coming from, and then there she was, the female teacher from the Drakensberg Boys Choir, asking me if I could take my child out? Now, before you get all huffy about this, let me make something clear. She said it very nicely and kindly. But it hurt. It still hurt me and I felt humiliated for my Molly and for myself.

I knew she might be noisy, but as a mother I had to expose her to the music. You see it’s all to easy to keep her away from everybody, it’s easier for me. But what about Molly? But I know now, that she can’t do everything other kids do. There are limitations. I discovered that today. It was a lesson I had to go through as her mother. I had to give her a chance too.

Fortunately Seko, Molly’s nanny, and I had discussed a game plan if this did happen and so I looked at Seko, who nodded her head in understanding, and off she toddled with Molls down the stairs. I sat there, childless, a friend who’d joined me earlier had witnessed the expulsion of my noisy cerebral palsy child, promptly burst into tears. Now, I don’t know why, but it FKED me off completely. Who is she to pity my child? How dare she make me feel worse by crying tears of pity? So there I sat, humiliated, feeling bad at Melanie crying next to me, feeling bad for the woman who had the bad luck at having to turf Molly out, angry at God for making me feel like this, angry at Molly for putting me through this, and I sat with bottom lip quivering and eyes welling up with tears. I physically restrained myself from crying, smiled and clapped like mad and enthusiastically at the performance.

You see if I’d cried, everyone around me would have felt bad and it would have been everyone’s day spoiled. Not just mine. So God knows where I drew the strength from. I forced my down-turned lips upwards, concentrated on the performance on stage and by sheer will and determination behaved normally.

Truth be told, I love my child. Molly is my daily blessing. God chose well by making me her mother. I’m strong and I have a sizable pair of balls.  But phew, it’s hard sometimes. It’s hardest to smile at everyone around you while your heart is weeping silently in your chest.

I’m tired now.


9 responses »

    • she was crying because she felt sorry for Molls I suppose, but really she could have found another time for it. Anyway, once I wrote this blog post and vented a bit, I felt a little relief and not so sad anymore. Just been a horrible cerebral palsy day. Don’t have many of those, so I suppose i was due for one.

  1. I think you handled it like a pro.
    I will make this all about me and tell you my little story. Had an experience (I don’t want to call it similar, let’s just say it was at another intensity) when I took my son to church – where we had not been in a while – one Christmas morning – to family service. He was about 1-2 yrs and very vocal – it was, after all, the season to be Jolly – fa-la-la-la-la-la-la….
    And the visiting minister, and I use this term very loosely, announced, halfway through the service: “Would the woman with the noisy baby please leave the church – it is very distracting.”
    Well, there was no nanny – no gameplan. Just me, sweaty and red, having to get up and shuffle all the way done the packed isle, and out the church.
    I am Pisces – I take these types of things extemely personally, and obviously still harbour ill feelings towards the tool to this day. I cannot be the bigger person, and sometimes carrying the extra baggage gives me a cramp. But I am working on it.
    I understand your sitution was, as you said, out of neccessity, and merited the occasion – and kudos to you for handling like you did, even though it must have stung like a chilli-covered finger stuck up you nose.

    • Thats where blogging helps. and writing helps. it gets everything off my chest and helps me release baggage. It still hurts and stings like crazy but it makes it manageable. oh well, at the end of the day, al lesson learnt, and I still have the cutest cerebral palsy girl this side of the Mississippi River.

  2. What a difficult moment – at least you had prepared for it, it must have still hurt like crazy. Not sure I would have dealt with it with such grace – you are the perfect mom to Molly.

  3. I read this. I could say : “I understand”, but I don’t. I could say : “I know how it is”, but I don’t. I could say : “You are strong” , but then you know that. So I’m going to say : I read this and I hear this and I don’t have the right words.
    (ps. Tell Molls I want one of her hugs soon…! )

  4. Funny how life is? one moment so down in the dumps and the next uplifted. Sat with molls today and we read a book and made animal sounds. She laughed her head off. Yesterday a trial and today a blessing. just like any child I guess?

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