Waiting for a feeling that will never come...

Sometimes I need a reminder that just because I am considerate of others, they are not obligated to do the same.

My sister recently moved in to her first apartment post-divorce.  I remember those days of our first apartment and trying to acquire as many items as we could.  My parents gave us a washer/dryer set as a wedding present. It made my life so much easier.  I wasn't dragging a baby and laundry to the laundromat.  I guess because I remember those things, I tend to be a little more giving with others in that situation.  I bought a new washer and dryer when she was moving in.  We took our old ones and gave them to her. We installed them in her apartment as a surprise.  Fast forward to the present and my dryer has died.  It needs a new part that is $100.  She's lived in her apartment about 6 months.  Yesterday she told me that her and her boyfriend will be moving in together and they will have 2 dryers.  Being the unsuspecting person that I am dumbly thought she was offering me one.  No, they are looking to sell it.  She'll let me know how much she wants for it.  I immediately felt offended.  Silly me, I hate when I think people should treat people as they are treated.

Ry's big night out

The children were nestled all snug in their beds, or so I thought! I was in my room changing when there was a scream at my door "We need help!"  I threw on my bathrobe and ran out the door.  I didn't even tie the robe.  I found R sitting in the middle of her floor with blood pouring down her face.  She wasn't screaming, wouldn't look at me and just stared at the wall.  I scooped her up and brought her to the kitchen, yelling for Vinny to come help. I grabbed a kitchen towel to put pressure on her head.  Her hair was already matted to her forehead from the blood. Vinny came out and yelled OH MY GOD!  To which I glared at him. He recovered poorly with "It doesn't look that bad, R." *rolls eyes* Vinny took over holding R while I went to put some sort of clothing on. The kids were so scared that no one could tell us what happened.  R still wasn't responding by the time I threw on a tank top and pants.  She wasn't crying or looking at us.  We scrubbed her head a bit to look at the cut.  It didn't look bad, but her behavior worried me.  I grabbed my keys, wallet and flip flops and headed to the truck. Vinny buckled her in and we were off.  I thought about going to urgent care across town, but I just didn't want to travel that far with an unresponsive child in the back seat.  We waited for 2 hours in the waiting room of the ED.  The pediatric Dr recognized me from previous encounters with 2 of the other girls in the past 6 months.  They thought the cut could use a couple of stitches, but we decided against it.  The cut is right in her hairline and we would have had to hold her down for the stitches.  She was so tired, but fought sleep.  I promised her I wouldn't let anyone come in and touch her if she fell asleep.  She was sleeping in my arms within 2 minutes.  We could barely wake her for the final check when we got discharged.  Sent home with no swimming for the weekend and a concussion.