Monday, January 17, 2011

Met my match?

 I've always been a 'stubborn-to-the-tip-of-my-toes' kinda gal and have been since the day I was born (or so I have been told... being that I was an infant, I have no way to personally verify that... so there could be a conspiracy afoot... I'm just saying!

It has been said that my reluctance to leave the womb is behind my peculiar pinkies (apparently the tale goes that I was pulled out by my pinkies... hence their rather non-straight shape). 

I share this only to illustrate my point (which was, I am stubborn... you know, just in case you'd forgotten). 

Couple that with an insane obsession to be right.all.the.time., which quite frankly is an exhausting and fruitless endeavour.  Well, let us just say that the internet is my insane asylum.

My Sheldon Cooper-esque Twitch Progression
I 'meet' many people online that are spouting this, that & the other thing.  Things that seem to be made up on the fly.  Now if it was all in the name of hilarious smack-talk, I'd 'let it go' (because if you weren't aware... I am so Queen of the Interwebs).  When people sincerely believe the balderdash that they spout... well I start to nervously twitch a la Sheldon Cooper.  (Photo progression of my Sheldon Cooper Twitch courtesy of ).

There have been many a forum battle that I have become entrenched in, which leave S baffled at my need to be right.  He doesn't understand why I must correct those that I know to be wrong.  Honestly, I don't understand it either.

Me, tappity-tapping away
I'll give a current example - a forum I frequent had a discussion about the link between autism and vaccines and how it was found fraudulent morphed in to what most vaccination discussions morph into (a pro versus anti debate).  Both sides were providing data out of thin air and making gross generalizations.  As I'm tappa, tapping away S looks at me and says (paraphrasing gents... I'm 'A Muddled Mama' remember?  There is no way I can remember verbatim a conversation from last week) that I must be serious about something to be tapping away so ferociously. 

I was serious, super serious!  I just could not let it go... why is that?  Obviously, I'm right.  Right?  Maybe? 

Now translate this into my 'real life' (henceforth referred to as RL), I have a 2.5 year old son... as any mother will know, one cannot possibly be right AND have a 2.5 year old son. 

Because while he is utterly adorable and the apple of my mother-freakin-eye... he is also a Teeny Tyrant.  A Teeny Tyrant that believes he is also right.all.the.time.  If you say apple, he says orange.  If you say orange, he says apple.  I kid you not, one night we were at the supper table and he was playing with Mater (yes, I allow TT to have a toy at the supper table... ), well he starts talking about his 'car'.  S & I both correct him and explain that no, it is not a car but a tow truck and I expand upon that and say it is a brown tow truck.  Apparently S & I are insane... because TT is adamant that it is a car.  This went on for a couple minutes (not my proudest moment... arguing with a toddler over what is or isn't a car), when finally I said "Oh fer C's sake, it's a purple car"... "Purwple Cart" 

*sighs*  Yes, I was beaten by a Teeny Tyrant.

Is it wrong that I view the future with slight trepidation?  If my Teeny Tyrant is so tyrannical now, at the tender age of 2.5... how on earth is he going to be at 18?  Feel free to pity me.

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