Ok, I know this is ridiculous, but sometimes it helps to talk {type}.

So a little background first. My husband ran cross country in high school, although he wasn't bad, he never got very far. He has always tried to push our kids to do something he loved, kind of re-living his high school glory I guess, or wanting them to be the kind of athlete or whatever he never was. Which has always struck me as kind of stupid, but I pretty much ignored it since the kids were never really interested in living his life for him. Until my daughter started running. Now my daughter can run. To watch her is amazing, she is so graceful, so fluid. You can't teach someone the grace she has. And I have always encouraged her to do what she likes.

Fast forward to her starting high school, and daddy sticking his big lame nose where it did not belong. He decided that at last one of his kids was going to follow in his footsteps and be the high school hero he never was. Which kind of irked me, but after so many years of marriage I tried to just let it slide. Until she started getting hurt. I tried to get her to back off a little bit, not quit, but just ease off before it got serious. Which of course made her dad furious. He was determined she was going to have the kind of glory he always felt he should have had. So despite my best efforts to mediate between them, she ended up get hurt so badly she had to quit running at all. Which as you can imagine made me pretty mad. It was completely unnecessary for her to push herself that hard, and the xrays said she'd have the damage for life.

Fast forward a little further. It's time for track and field to start at school. Against my judgement my husband told my daughter to try out for the team. And despite a lot of pain, she made the team. Now for weeks on end I have watched her limp home after practice and ice her bad leg. I've seen her come home with bruises and nasty cuts and burns from falling. And I keep getting steadily angrier. I try and talk to her, try to get her to understand that to do this much damage to herself is not necessary, nor is it smart. About the time I get her to listen, he dad starts in with the fastest time and breaking records and all this crap. Which by the way he never came even close to holding a record of any kind, he wasn't that good. And then she starts pushing again, and she starts getting hurt again. She's damaged both legs internally to the point where walking for even half an hour makes her limp noticeably. And the more I try and make sense, the more her dad steps all over me and tells her I don't know what I'm talking about and she could be great, she could be remembered forever as the best in her school. Which I find ludicrous to the point of insanity.

Today she had a couple of races. Big ones. I believe they were regionals? Or districts? One of those two. And guess what? With daddy there cheering her on, she keeps running even when she knows she's hurt, and comes home not even able to walk. And dad wants to know what ER to take her to. So I loose it. I am so mad I can't see straight. I demand to know why she kept running even when she knew she was hurt. I want to know why she insists on hurting herself like this for no reason. Que the blow up from hubby who accuses me of always dragging her down instead of supporting her. To which I scream something about always supporting her, but that she needs to understand that no stupid school race is worth permanent injury. Que the crying daughter who is just trying to make daddy proud of her no matter the cost, and que some more screaming from me to the effect hubby is another word for a donkey and he has no right to try and live a life he never had through our daughter. Which of course provokes more yelling from him about me being another word for a female dog and a lousy mom and I've always wanted our kids to fail at everything. At which point crying daughter screams for both of us to just shut up and it's her life and if she want's to spend it in a wheelchair as long as her name is on the record board at school then she'd spend her life in a wheelchair. At which point I tell them both they are the biggest idiots I've ever seen and far from being mommy's little girl she takes after her mule headed father and so be it I hope she likes having to wear a metal brace on her leg for the rest of her life and she can get her useless dad to take care of her because I've had enough.

Then daddy carries her out to the car and off they go to get xrays.

And I'm sitting here in my living room crying and alone and not knowing what to do. And after a little while, I do the only thing I could think of. I came here to get it off my chest. I don't really expect any replies. And if I get any, I'm sure they aren't going to be anything I want to hear. But just saying{ typing} it out loud has helped. I have no idea what I am going to do when they get home. Maybe I will just pretend to be asleep, so I don't have to listen to them anymore tonight. I'd have something to drink, but I don't drink so...

Anyway, if you bothered to read this, please don't hold it against me. I am not a pleasant person when I am mad.

Gale