I don’t know how many here follow American politics, but I do. My husband is American and my daughter, by birth, is a dual citizen. I find American politics a tad more interesting than our own. If you haven’t been following, I’ll give you a quick recap.

Obama beat out Hillary Clinton for the head of the Democratic Party. McCain beat out a bunch of other guys for the top spot in the Republican Party (which they will officially give him after the Republican National Convention). They each get to choose a running mate who would become VP. So Americans vote on the dual ticket. Obama picked Joe Biden. McCain picked Sarah Palin, the Governer of Alaska.

Now, I won’t get into politics here, but here’s the amazing thing. The biggest “slam” they can come up with is that Sarah Palin is a “hockey mom”. Sure they can disagree with her politics, but when the pull the punches, they bring up the biggest slur they can . . . she’s a, she’s a, she’s a HOCKEY MOM!

Horror of horrors!

Seriously, is that all you got?

I realize that being a VP would be all hard - you know with all those staffers to manage and get you coffee and brief you on the day’s news and manage your schedule for you.

I wonder if anyone who criticizes her has tried to manage five kids in different sports, working full-time and staying married happily. That’s a lot of work. Perhaps I missed the memo when “hockey mom” became some kind of slur. Then again, I’m a Hockey/Beavers/Piano/Gymnastics Mom, what would I know?

I am having one of THOSE weeks. Yeah, one of those that happen to coincide with a birthday, too much work, ovulation and the last day of school. Like, holy crap.

Earlier this week E-Toddler broke out in a rash two days in a row. She has a history of allergies (milk & coconut) but she seemed to have grown out of them. But suddenly, full body hives. So I took her in to the doctor to get them checked out. And asked if they could remind me which doctor she’d been referred to for allergy testing. When he’d seen her at about 7 months old he’d said “just call back and book an appointment for a year from now”.

Then, whoopsie, life happened and we moved TWICE and now it’s 16 months later and I forgot to book that appointment four months ago.. no biggie, right?

Wrong. Apparently someone needs to get paid a referral fee because when I called to book the appointment the receptionist told me that I’d have to go BACK to my doctor and get another referral to come to the allergist again for a follow up.

So, time until our doctor can see us: about 3 weeks. Then we can get a referral to go back to the darn doctor (and some money will change hands between my doctor and the allergist, I’m sure) for re-testing. I was so irritated. What is with this stupid referral system in Canada? What is the point? Why can’t I just call up an allergist and make a silly appointment? Is this country afraid of a little capitalism? Would it mean that the really good doctors would be busy and the crap doctors wouldn’t have enough patients? Gee, that would be really sad.

But, on a positive note, we discovered that the day care had accidentally been putting the wrong sunscreen on her, and now that they are using her sunscreen, the hives have gone away. So all is good.

But don’t get me started about the rude, ignorant owner of the local used kids store. As of right now I’m boycotting the Once Upon A Child store just down the road. Seven years I’ve been shopping there, but no more. I don’t give money to jerk-faces.

Okay. Now that all that is out… let’s have a great rest of the week! (It’s almost over, right?)

I think it’s the rain. The rain that has been the constant backdrop to life these past few days. I’m not used to so much rain. I live in Calgary, not Vancouver. Too much rain. Too, too, too much rain.

I couldn’t even go to church today. Mainly because I couldn’t gather the children to come with me because one didn’t come home from grandma’s and one was too tired.

Fine! Fine! Play at the park! You’ll be sorry in hell my child!! <- no, I didn’t really say that. (Mainly because it wasn’t my son’s choice, it was my mother’s, who let him go to the park rather than bring him home.) But there’s a reaction in my soul that says “why don’t they care?”

It’s selfish, really, and I see that. It’s selfish to say to your family, “Care more about me!” But I want them to. I want someone to read what I write, I want my husband to notice that it’s getting close to church time so why doesn’t he put the baby to bed and I can go, I want to feel the acceptance that I’ve craved since I was a child.

But everywhere I feel like I face rejection. I’m a writer, I can handle that rejection. I get it. But when your family rejects you or when it feels like there’s not so much rejection as just…. a non-acceptance. A feeling of ambivalence. I see clothing on the floor and I think “doesn’t anyone else care?” I see bedtimes approach and I start to prepare. Doesn’t anyone else?

Lately I’ve been trying very hard to stay on budget. I watch each penny I spend. I find little bits of joy in getting a lunch for under $2. (Superstore, it’s for me!) But then one offhand comment from a family member about my spending just crushes every bit of happiness I had. Every bit of try.

Why is that?