Oy, I've become one of those semi-intolerant parents. I had to take Abby to the orthodontist this morning and while she was in the back, another woman came in with her adolescent son and toddler daughter. The son went back into the treatment area, the mother proceeded to sit down in the waiting area and allow her daughter to make the entire waiting room her personal play space. In the span of ten minutes, Wonder Toddler had:

Taken a tin of pencils set out as holiday favors for the patients and upended it on the floor.

Taken half the board books and spread them around the floor.

Climbed up on the chairs and started taking the magazines from the rack.

Used the chairs as a jungle gym.

Tried to appropriate the video game controls from the toddler who was playing quietly.

Emptied her mother's purse all over the floor, grabbed the cell phone and was apparently trying to dial China.

In that time Mumsy was:

Chatting up the other mother of the quietly playing toddler

Saying "Lilah, no, don't do that," without making any discernible effort to keep the child from actually doing anything.

Regaling the entire waiting room with tales of how Lilah had emptied the dog food bowl all over herself that morning and how they had to have all plastic ornaments on their tree because she'd already broken all the glass ones.

Kept saying to the room at large how they had to watch out for her because she was a monster, delivered with a smile meant to convey we should all think it was just That Precious.

Lilah tried to climb over the back of my chair and reach for my iPhone. I gave her The Look and little Lilah just slunk back off.

And worst part was, aside from trying to excuse the girl's behavior with the smiles and "she's a monster" comments, the mother did NOTHING to help straighten the mess her kid was making. I mean, the pencils alone had spilled across the floor of the relatively small waiting area, including in front of the door leading into the treatment area. If someone had opened that door and not realized the pencils were there, it could've been ugly. It was all I could do not to pick them up myself, but I was DAMNED if I was going to make things easier for that woman.

I mean, I remember what it was like when they were toddlers, but there were certain things I never let my kids do and fiddling with stuff that wasn't theirs or appropriate for them to touch was big with me.

And no, the irony that the kid's name is Lilah didn't escape me.

I skipped and skimmed 'cause you guys gotta see this.

To add a twist on the grumpy: Part of Hubby's disability settlement was to have Social Security look at his old student loan and see if he could write it off. A couple of weeks ago, we got a letter from SSI saying, "Yup, you're poor and disabled, stop paying it. If you stop being poor and disabled in three years you have to pay it off, but if you're still disabled, it's history."

Yay! in our house.

Yesterday, Hubby got a letter from the people who actually hold the student loan saying, "Only people in poverty can write off their loans! We bet you're not really in poverty! Pay it off!" Which tells me they've received the notice of "Back off, vultures" and they're hoping we're too stupid to figure it out and pay them off in fear. Because the corporation that holds the loans and is beholden to no one has never tried to play fast and loose on these things.

Hubby was initially worried, but I've just realized that that loan was put in place before we got married, so my income doesn't apply to it, and Hubby's disability payment still puts him under the poverty line.

Rotten student loan vultures.

I'm listening to the news now. I can't believe it's happening: I can't believe the truce will be over. Even if it wasn't all trucey, it saved lives.

No.

Dear Santa,

I'd like Peace on Earth for Christmas. I'd like an end to hatred and violence. Life's crappy enough, can you do something to keep us from being crappy to each other? Please?

Love, me.

From Windsparrow's pixels to God's ears.

I have strong feelings and ideas about the required national service concept for the US that I will share at some later point, but I don't think it's appropriate right now given that Shir and other Israelis are facing such a scary situation. I'm so sorry about the truce ending. Indeed, peace on earth. Please.

Oh, Kristin, please - feel free to share.

It's a crappy situation, and I can't believe how much this country keeps me disappointed at times - I mean, you'd think I've lived here long enough to stop expecting miracles, but lo. BUT, life goes on. They always do.

A lot of US schools are requiring some sort of public service as a graduation requirement. But that doesn't necessarily translate into the students getting outside of their own groups and neighborhoods or to work with those somewhat different from themselves.

At Sidwell Friends (a friend of mine used to teach there, and told me about it), the policy is that the community service has to be serving some group that the student isn't part of -- either ethnically or racially or socially or financially or something. Also, rather than the "add up the hours" thing that a lot of schools have, where students can put in an hour or two with a whole lot of different organizations and total the requirement, at Sidwell, all the hours need to be with the same organization. And I think that it needs to be directly doing something, not just paperwork.

Shir, out of curiosity -- what's the general attitude toward the religious men who get exemptions from military service because they're in yeshiva?

Shir, love, I'm sorry about my stupid overprivileged parent vent. All things considered, not so bad.

Life does, indeed, go on. Here's hoping for safety, peace, and the sense God gave a cabbage to light upon the appropriate people's heads.