So this past weekend started on a crazy note. Scott was verbally attacked about our parenting skills. He was told that we need to stand on our own two feet as parents and that Scott was an "asshole" and a "fucking liar". He also told Scott that we need to get help. Pretty much because we aren't making the decisions the way this jerk would be making them, we aren't good enough parents. We are wrong in his eyes. He was yelling, swearing, and provoking Scott to no end. Scott finally got in his car and refused to acknowledge the bum.
My reaction to what he said about us: up yours. (Don't even get me started on the fact that he attacked my husband. Bad move.) No two children are alike, and so it goes with parenting skills. God paired us with our children for a reason and He thinks we are doing a damn good job. You raise your child and we'll raise ours. Respect that concept.
Then Saturday came and we were at D's soccer game. And in the cold, pouring rain, D's coach came up to us and commended us for how great a kid D is. He said, "You must be doing something right because he's the best kid I have out there; he does what he's told, he doesn't complain, he gives 110%." Wow, talk about redemption. Scott swelled up and told the coach, "Your words couldn't have come at a better time."
Do I think we are the perfect parents? Hell no. But I think we are the perfect parents for Nina and Dominic. Through thick and thin we have bonded and survived. My kids see me in my faults and in my triumph's. Likewise, with their father. We love each other fiercely and they are good kids. They're good kids by the grace of God AND because we ARE doing something right.
So mean man that has to butt into other's lives: go crawl under your rock and marinade in your self-righteousness. Because that's all you got.