Peacemaker ... Again

So. I was out and about last week with Rain. It was the day after Christmas, and I was feeling at peace with all the after-holiday glow and whatnot. The weather was pleasant but the wind was particularly strong.

We left a shop, and though the wind was fierce, I could tell Rain's diaper needed to be changed. So, I put her in the driver's seat (she loves to play with the wheel) and dumped our bags in the trunk. I quickly changed Rain's diaper in the car and watched her play with the radio for a while. After a few minutes, I informed her it was time to sit in her car seat. I scooped her up and got out. I shut the door against the gusts of wind and got into the back. The door was open about six inches while I sat inside buckling Rain in. I had just buckled her chest latch when, of course, the wind picked up. My door opened suddenly and hit the car next to me.

Mind you, I had never touched the door. I felt bad, though, so I told Rain, "Darn! Mommy has to go and see if the the door did any--"

Honestly, that's as far as I got.

Apparently, there was a lady in the car my door hit. I heard her before I saw her. She was yelling. I mean, straight up cussing me out before she ever got out of the car. I will attempt to edit the following conversation for our younger viewers:

Me, looking puzzled.

Crazy Lady: "Oh, h___ no! You b___!"

Me, still puzzled. Perhaps I ran over a kid??

CL: "You KNEW I was backing out! You should've waited for me!"

Me: "I didn't know--"

CL: "I SAW you! You were out here for 15 minutes and--"

Me, truly puzzled. If she saw me for 15 minutes, wouldn't she had to have been out here as well? How would I know then that she had finally decided to back out? Wait! It doesn't even matter because

Me: "The wind opened the door."

CL whips out her phone and dials.

CL: "It's me. This b___ [nodding to me] just hit my car!"

I HIT her car? Like a head-on collision? All remorse dripping away ...

CL: [still on phone] "Get here right now!"

I check for damage on the car. There is a single hairline of white where my door scuffed hers. I had to lean in to see it.

CL: "Give me your insurance!"

I had to look at her and the mark on the car twice to make sure I hadn't missed the dead kid that must be on the ground. Without a word, I turn to walk back to the driver's seat to get my insurance info.

CL: "You'd BETTER not be trying to leave with my information!"

Seriously? Can you say one thing without screaming?

Me: "Calm down. I'm getting it."

CL: "Oh I won't calm down! This is my son's car and I've only had it for 5 months and--"

I walk away and get the info. At this point, her husband who must have been at a shop nearby, pulls up. He can see right away that his wife is trying her best to make a scene. I shook my head, wondering what kind of man could deal with this on a daily basis? Was he more of a jerk than she was? I take out my phone and shoot a picture of the "damage." At this point, I truly, truly, truly want her to file a claim with my insurance company. I just want the joy of someone else telling her, "Seriously?"

CL's Husband: "So what happened?"

I explain it briefly. It's clear I'm not lying, and that I am 2 seconds from killing his wife. But, Rain, my Rain, is sitting in the car, listening to me. The man nods his head, and while I open up my insurance card stuff, he open the trunk of his wife's car. He pulls out a rag, and no joke, rubs the entire mark off her car. All that's left is a tiny scratch that can be buffed out. Now CL finally stops her ranting when it is absolutely clear that the damage is laughable. Her husband tells her to sit in the car. I offer my insurance information, and he shakes his head. I give him my phone number, so he can call me with the bill.

He tells me softly that he probably won't even call, as buffing out the damage will cost less than $20.

He was wrong. He called me a few days later. The cost was $5.

Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out (pardon me while I have a Karate Kid moment), breathe in ...

I was livid with CL, but at the same time, I felt so much pity for her husband. He was absolutely cool about the whole thing, but his ogre wife ...

I've thought over the situation many times. When Tim and I first dated, especially before Rain was born, that was the kind of situation I would've never tolerated (someday I'll tell you about the whole mall/police incident) because I firmly believe in justice. Fair justice. Sure, I made a mistake (I should've firmly shut my car door), but did that merit all the verbal abuse? If she had seen me buckling my kid in (by her own admission, she was watching me), why decide to back out just to prove she had some sort of right-of-way?

There was a time I would not have let her talk trash without openly laughing at her (yes, I've done this, too. Sorry, but when someone acts ridiculous ...).

But, Rain. There is always Rain to consider.

God help me not to make my little peacemaker a bitter woman by example. At the time, all I did was finish buckling Rain up and say calmly, "That lady over there is crazy, and we're going to leave now before she makes us crazy, too."

I smiled and drove off, agitated, but more than that, sad for a decent man.

Peacemaker

The other day I had this lengthy discussion with Tim, and it was on a topic (to be discussed later) that we had, in one way or another, been talking about for weeks. But the conversation had, overall, been very positive except for that night. So, I went to bed kinda mad. Truth be told, that almost never happens. Tim and I aren't a fighting couple, thank God, so I've gone to bed mad maybe three times in the last six years of our marriage. I hate going to bed mad for so many reasons, but mainly because I don't like to leave ugly things festering all night. I know the next day I'll probably be more mad because I'll have had time to dissect and over analyze every word and fall into madness.

It was no surprise then that the following morning I woke up still miffed by my conversation with Tim. At some point in the night, Rain had left her bed and walked herself to our room. When she does this, Tim will lean over, scoop her up, put her between us, and fall asleep again ten seconds later.

As I laid in bed with my eyes still closed, I could feel Rain stirring. I hoped she and Tim would get up quickly, have breakfast together as usual, and give me a few minutes alone to brood. I waited a minute, but Rain continued to shuffle about and ruffle the sheets. I sighed and opened my eyes.

Rain wasn't wiping the sleep from her eyes at all. She was staring at me. When she saw that my eyes were finally opened, she smiled. A right big smile. Then her face became serious. She looked at me for a moment and stuck her tongue out as far as she could. I'd never seen her do it before, and I snorted. That was all she needed. She stuck her tongue out again, and licked her lips all the way around. She swished her tongue side to side like a frog, and I laughed. It was the first time she had every tried to make a funny face, and I was overly proud about the whole thing. She kept her eyes serious, but once she had me really laughing, she smiled as if she was very pleased with herself.

Tim awoke to me laughing. I'm sure it was the very last sound he thought he'd hear that morning. But Rain made it happen. Just when I think I've reached some kind of boiling point, she cashes in all her cute and cuddly chips. She does something that makes me look at her and think, "You are the very best of me and Daddy, and how can someone wonderful like you be made from anyone but a madly in love pair?" I mean, really, the feelings were all kinds of ooey-gooey. I don't know if she has some knack for self-preservation (like keeping us happily together is in her best interest??), but honestly, it's like she knows just when to whip out the charm and get me feeling all joyous again.

Which is a pretty stinky thing when you've lost sleep all night thinking of ways to be petty. Oh well.

On the upside, Tim & I did resolve our issues that day, and to be honest, if Rain hadn't been so loving that morning, well, I wouldn't have felt much incentive to fix things quickly.

Hmm. From Rainzilla to Rain the Peacemaker? It must be the holidays.

It's Not Easy Being Green

Before Rain, I was doing pretty well on the Green front: we bought a fuel-efficient car; we maintained the car to minimize wasted fuel; we replaced our light bulbs with energy-efficient ones; we recycled paper & plastic (we didn't have convenient pick-up service in our apartment, mind you); we reused old items in new ways; we purchased eco-friendly cleaning supplies; and so on and so forth.

After Rain's birth, I realized that saving the planet and saving my sanity were dueling efforts. It began with diapers. As much as I adored the idea of using cloth diapers, actually implementing that process was a no-go from the moment I saw what baby poo looked like. Add to the fact that I had no diaper-changing skills to flaunt, and you can understand how I ended up using, I don't know, 100 wipes at every changing.

Next to go was water. Forget about using cold-water detergent anymore, I was in my kitchen running water just to make Rain calm down. She loved the sound of rushing water, and if that meant my whole apartment went afloat just so she could settle down, oh well. After 3 weeks of newborn cries, I would've offered to sacrifice calfs for peace. And I don't even like veal.

If she wanted a bath with lots of water to play with, I was happy to oblige. That meant I could sit next to the tub--actually sit--and she could relax for half an hour.

My next war crime against Earth was electricity. Crying Baby wants a nightlight? You got it. Fan to give you white noise? You got it. Battery-dependent toys? You got it. Now you want to turn the light on and off and on and off? Have fun, sweetie!

Whatever it took to keep Rain from crying was priority number one. We were warming ONE towel in the dryer just to keep her warm and toasty when she got out of a bath.
Why all the fuss? Because Rain was fussy. She cried at every displeasure, and it didn't take but a few weeks of sleepless nights before we thought, "To heck with the planet, I need my mind!" It's hard for childless or parents of easy-going babies to understand, but believe me when I tell you, consistent newborn tears are always followed by consistent new parent tears.

On the 27th, Rain was 18 months old. For months now, her independence has cut down on her cries and neediness. She doesn't need toasty towels and white noise anymore.

Slowly, things are changing. We painted Rain's room with non-toxic, earth-friendly paints, and the recycle bins have reappeared. The energy-efficient laundry detergent graces the shelves once more, and Tim is replacing the light bulbs in our new house with the green kind. So, we're finally going green again.

Except for that diaper thing. Huggies, please.