Consideration--all rant, nothing fun

This isn't a post about consideration in a D/s context. This isn't an interesting post. In fact, it's one of those that comes with a "bitching" disclaimer where I direct my readers to the blogs on the right who, no doubt, have far more interesting things to say today.

This post is about consideration (or complete lack thereof) of family. My son has spent the last two days moping around and crying randomly. Why? Because his aunt is leaving and she was supposed to come visit two days ago. Every time the phone rang, he would jump up and run to it saying "is it aunt_____?!! And it never was. So I let him call her this morning, you know to see if the supremely considerate bitch had any intention of seeing him. And she did, tomorrow. For one day. She's visiting her sister nearby now. So I threw a bunch of clothes in my kids pack, tossed a hairbrush at him, and sent him off with his dad who will drop him off at grandma's to be collected later by his clueless and uncaring aunt so that he can wiggle in an extra day with her.
Now, I have always been of the opinion that adults tend to do what they want (taking out of the equation, those of us who have accepted that we will not be allowed to do whatever the hell we want lol) and when you're on your own, you will live your life as you see fit. However, there is this small issue--when my kid is this sad, and it's directly attributable to the actions of someone who wants to act like everything is just peachy, I feel a bit like...That rabid bitch down the street who enjoys eating unwary humans for brunch (yea, that's me, hi again).
Sometimes, we have to admit to ourselves that something is not okay. Denying it is, well, it's how I end up out in the yard losing all semblances of self control and shoving just how-not-okay things are down the throat of the person in denial. Now, when such situations arise, Alpha is the person who (sometimes quite literally), throws me over His shoulder and hauls me off kicking and screaming to simmer down. He's the one who sits me out in the yard until I quit foaming at the mouth and going for blood. This time...He has no interest in muzzling me. So, in the best interests of the kiddo actually getting some quality time with his aunt, Alpha told me to tell her not to bother coming for a visit and to keep the kiddo until she leaves. Which puts me in the position of ineffectively fuming away at the phone and telling her yet again, that it really is not okay. Conversations like that are so much better conducted in the yard. At the top of one's voice. While the object of displeasure stares at you in horror and eventually has no choice but to admit that shit is quite unarguably, unequivocally, completely--not okay.
Alpha dedicated 18 years of His life to making sure His little sisters were okay. He is the Only person on earth who has been there for them through thick and thin since the day they were born. For years He made decisions and sacrifices entirely in the interests of their well-being. Yet neither of them can take a moment, to realize and admit that His kid has feelings, and they're hurt. And everything is really just not ohfuckingkay. So there's my rant.
It's just me and the little little guy who spent an hour screaming that he wants his dad (making me feel like a kidnapper poorly disguised as mom). So who knows, maybe I will have another rant after I talk to the little bitch aunt. Or maybe, if I clean a lot beforehand, I will have medicated my rabid state enough to have something interesting to say about the events of last night. Which was really my plan for a post this morning.