Managing My Home Plate – Why Are People So Rude??


I have had it with people today. Everyone has been so fucking rude and demanding. 

And, to think, my day started off so well…

I woke up this morning to a text from one of the baseball moms telling me she knows it may be too late, but could I order a Team shirt for her son. No problem, that’s what I do because I’m the team manager. After a short conversation about our kids, I texted, I hope you guys have a great weekend! And she texted back that I was such a kind and thoughtful person for letting her order a shirt late. I indulged in the compliment for a few moments and smiled my way through the rest of this god damned day. 

Fast-forward to this afternoon. My son and I had some errands to run so we got MM to drop us off at the mall near our house. I ran into my aunt who asked for my son’s baseball schedule because she’s hoping to catch a game. I told her about the up-coming home tournament in July and gave her the dates. She told me to text her that weekend to remind her. I explained that I would try, but I couldn’t guarantee anything because MM coaches, son plays on two baseball teams and is on the field 5 days a week, and I manage the competitive team so we’re kinda busy and it might slip my mind. Right there, in the middle of the mall, she started scolding me about family obligations. To which I thought to myself, are you fucking kidding me right now?? The friend who was with my aunt, must have seen me roll my eyes into next week because she looked at my aunt and said, “maybe you could put it in your phone calendar so that you’ll remember.” Like a lightbulb going on, she lit up and replied, “oh, yeah, I guess I could.” And on that note, my son and I left. My mood had shifted. 

Then, when MM picked us up at the mall, I told him we were running late and that maybe he should go do what he needed to do and come back for us. For the second consecutive day, he snapped at me. To which I put him in his place and told him to stop being so damn rude. He snapped that he had about two hours of work ahead and he couldn’t waste time because he has a lot on his plate. Well, so do I. Everybody does. It’s called adulting. I explained to him that he didn’t have to be so mean just because he’s having a bad day. So the rest of our shopping trip was ruined by everyone’s bad moods. 

Don’t kid yourself into thinking that my day was over yet. The rude people in my life never fucking end. I’m starting to think I surround myself with the wrong kind of people. I sense a change coming in the near future. But I digress. 

After we dropped the kid off at his friends place for a sleepover, we were close to our old house so we thought we’d take a drive through our old neighbourhood. We noticed one of our old neighbours in her yard and stopped to say hello. As soon as she saw me, she squeezed my arm and said, “my goodness, you’ve put on some weight since you left the neighbourhood!” This woman obviously does not have a filter about anything. She’s critical, judgmental, and down-right rude. Thanks, mean neighbour lady, for reminding me that 40 has not been kind to me. The wrinkles, the weight, the grey hair…I mean, it’s not like I see it in the mirror every morning and I had almost forgotten. Seriously though, it’s been hard, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m not a waif-ish, anorexic 97lbs anymore. Age has a way of forcing you to accept the things you cannot change. Instead of starving myself, I’m now a healthy, happy yoga-loving 110lbs. This is who I am, lady. Accept me or go the fuck away. And thanks again for reminding me why I wanted to leave that community of judgey seniors.

Demanding, judgmental, self-absorbed, and fucking mean – these are the people I’ve had to deal with today. But I’m holding onto my morning conversation with the baseball mom because her conversation was the only one that has mattered to me. And I am grateful for that. 

Namaste, MFers. 




I need to say sorry. I’ve been awfully ignorant and I feel bad. So this is my confession.

Last week, while my son and I were walking into a gas station, a guy drove up in a flashy sports car (yeah, I noticed the car) and he parked right beside the door as we walked up. He rushed to open the door to the gas station for me and my son and he smiled flirtatiously as I ushered my son inside. The dude was sending out some serious vibes. I merely smiled back and said thank you quickly and went on my way.

I’m sorry, young, hot guy with the nice car. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop to chat (which is usually what I’d do if I wasn’t with my son). I’m not usually as ignorant or rude as I may have seemed that day. But I was with my son. And my son is my only focus when I’m with him. We were in a rush because we were on our way out of the city and I was already late. Those are excuses and I had no reason to be so oblivious. Please consider this my apology.

If my son hadn’t been with me and I hadn’t been so wrapped up in my own world, I probably would have stopped for a moment to say a more genuine thank you and to ask about your car. Maybe that would have led to a longer conversation or maybe it wouldn’t have. Either way, I would have been more sincere and thoughtful instead of being so dismissive and rude.

One last thing I’d like to say to the hot guy who clearly sent out those flirty vibes, thank you. Thank you for making me feel good about myself and for helping me to realize I need to work on myself.

Sometimes, as mothers, we got lost in our lives. We forget that we, too, are worthy of attention. We give up being the center of attention to put our kids on a pedestal. For many years I’ve been unnoticeable as a person with her son by her side, but you didn’t make me feel old, frumpy, and invisible. You made me smile many hours later when you popped into my mind again later that day. And because you looked me straight in the eye, smiled flirtatiously, held the door open for me, and made me feel noticed, I realized that I am noticeable.

Thank you for that moment. Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with you, but you were the catalyst to help me realize that I’m not only a mother. I’m so much more than just one title. Being a mother is important, but being me is just as important.