At long last

This week has been somewhat interesting.

On the weekend we had to go and have 'one last visit' with Nana a.k.a. The Queen. We quietly gathered around her hospital bed. She was alert and happy to see us. My daughter takes one look at her and, in her innocent two year old way, just starts saying "BYE BYE" over and over and over. We all kind of laughed it off and pretended she was referring to us leaving the hospital in a few minutes (ya... mmkay). Slightly uncomfortable. But it was good and we did our familial duty.
I have a feeling that this might be the longest goodbye. My Nana hung on for 5 years after they gave a couple of weeks. Just put a pillow over my face should I end up in some god-forsaken extended care hospital. My poor little Nana, barely alive, 100 years old and ALL she wanted was some Tums. The nurses would get 2 inches from her face and yell "I'm sorry Rose. NO TUMS!!" If you make it throught the depression, through the days when men could be cheating a-holes with no consequences, the music of the mid 80's, drive her family across Canada in a car with curtain windows by herself and drink Rye like nobody's business (probably at the same time), then I say give her the damn Tums. Is she going to OD on them? Will she get too much calcium?

I had a little incident today. I could use some insight on this if anyone has any. We are at the toddler play group and my gorgeous beast decided she would like to play in the laundry bin. Clearly, we were at someone else's house as my laundry bin has never been empty. So this other little girl (who is named after a continent but not Australia which is what I will call her for the sake of the story) decides she wants to be in it to. I saw this going down from the corner of my eye but left it as I am a firm believer in letting the little ones be as far away from me as humanly possible. So as I sat eating the cookies I had actually brought for the kiddies the argument escalated to Australia hitting my little girl. As she is two and born of me, she whacks her back and Australia drops to the floor an emotionally wounded mess. Australia's mother (who is named after a weather condition but not Rainy which is what I will call her for the sake of the story) rushes to her side and scoops her up. I meander over (shoving the rest of the cookie in) and tell my little one that it is TIME OUT and she needs to apologize. So she relunctantly does and I roll my eyes and smile at Rainy who then says "OH MY GOD! AUSTRALIA HAS A BRUISE ON HER CHEEK!" So Australia gets a big hug and a 37 kisses and my little one is left wondering why in the hell she got punished and had to say sorry but 'ol downunder got nothing but love. I was confused so I explained that it was a fight and they both received a hit from the other and Rainy looked at me with utter disgust. I kick myself now and will probably do so forever more but I I said nothing.
What the fuck?
I know I don't get to decide how other kids are raised but honestly.
Another one of the mothers invited my non-hitting child over for a play date "but maybe just by herself without her sister" (the hitter)
So am I to believe that these kids don't hit? Adults can't control themselves from hitting a lot of the time but we expect a toddler to have the emotional maturity and knowledge to keep it all under control?
I am pissed off that my daughter has developed a reputation already. She hasn't even had the chance to smoke behind the school or wear a big thong with little pants yet.