Let Me Make A Few Things Perfectly Clear

There is a blogger (who I will not name for fear of sending traffic her way, so let's just call her Bad Blogger) who is notorious on the Internet when it comes to being a troll. She is critical, nasty, and doesn't bother to actually understand what she's reading most of the time. This isn't really about the fact that she's a big, sucky uber-troll in my opinion and generally detracts from any discussion she joins, but about the fact that she's sort of a bad human being.

Her blog today criticizes a New England charitable organization that, among other things, supplies aid to Jewish families who apply for it. She evidently gets food from this organization each month, and applied to them for assistance with buying her children Chanukah gifts this year.

She's unhappy with the gifts that they bought her children and complaining that Russian Immigrants who "know how to work the system" get so much more than her.

I cannot tell you how much this bothers me. This bothers me more than I am even capable of expressing, and I'm pretty good at expressing.

Listen, I get it. I want to buy Max nice Christmas presents too. I wish that we could afford to get him a nice new big-boy bed. It's what he's said he wants. But we can't really afford it, and we don't have space to store his toddler bed and mattress, and it's just not a priority at this point, when the toddler bed is still functioning just fine and house prices are still as high as they are.

We would honestly rather get him out of this tiny little shoebox of a condo and into a place with a yard to play in and some room to spread out. That's for us too, but being a parent means that when you want, you want mostly for what it would mean to your child. Dan and I aren't thrilled with the condo, but if it were what was best for our family, we would stay indefinitely. Because that's what's best for our family. Get it? It's not about me. It doesn't have to be about me. I have a kid, so it's almost always about him. And I'm good with that.

Bad Blogger wants for her kids too, but the fact that she is angry enough to write about this agency and what they're not doing for her and for her kids--you know, there's a line. There's a line between loving your babies and wanting to see them light up on Christmas morning, and nothing ever being enough and taking aid from people who really need the roof somebody's putting over their head so that you can buy your kid an I-Phone or an I-Pod or a frickin' pony. Come the fuck on.

Bad Blogger claims to be poor, and yet her blog is literally plastered with ads, so many that it generally freezes my computer up every time the blog loads. She doesn't work for health reasons, and yet she manages to write for several different blogs and spend the rest of her day trolling for easy prey on the internet.

Bad Blogger subjects her readers to lectures about her liberal pet causes--she alternates them with posts about her Amazon Wish Lists and things that she'd like all her readers to buy for her. Sorry, Bad Blogger. No leopard high-heel boots from me this year.

And yes, I told her all of this (anonymously) in her comments. Why anonymously? Because I can live without her boring, pointless vitriol that way, way, way too many of her critics have been subject to. But you know what? I'd say it right to her face too, and she's clearly smart enough to come looking for me if she feels like it. So, my name is Molly and I think you suck a lot. I think you're a bad human being and a boring writer and I don't judge how other people parent but I think you enable your clearly spoiled-rotten children beyond all belief. You are the kind of person most people are thinking of when they say "crazy knee-jerk dumb-ass liberal," and that's coming from a liberal. I'm done reading your lame blog, even for the train-wreck value it had for me.

Bring it on, Bad Blogger. molwade26@aol.com. I will leave the light on for you.