You ever have those days where you think it’ll be a good day but you’re just….wrong?
Usually, I love Fridays. The only day of the week that the kids don’t have any therapy. This morning was fairly normal, I dropped my oldest son off at school and then took my 4 year old to the dentist. Came home, put the baby down for a nap, and just…I don’t know.
By the time he woke up from his nap about an hour and a half later, I just felt like complete shit. I’m exhausted, my head hurts, I feel like my threshold for dealing with anything and anyone today is literally zero.
I’m really just not okay right now. I’m not.
I think after my dad came to therapy with me on Monday and basically shit on me for 2 hours while I sat there and didn’t defend myself because it wouldn’t have fucking mattered anyway, I’m just feeling really, really bad.
It hurts. His opinion aside, he was just simply so blatantly wrong about so many of the “facts” that he claimed were true.
Why am I so upset if I know that the things he said are wrong?
I don’t care about his opinion. Well, okay, I do. But I can’t argue with that. But it’s like he sat there and told me the sky was green, when it’s literally blue! I know it’s blue! Why should I care if he thinks it’s green???
I’ve you’ve ever pleaded, yes, pleaded, not asked, with your child to PLEASE just clean something up, you know your mental health is probably not okay. You know you’re probably not in the healthiest of places.
He actually did do a great job cleaning up, and I’m super proud of him for getting it done. Now he’s happily playing with a sheet of dinosaur stickers that he knows only go on paper.
I am in a very fragile place right now.
My mom is supposed to come with me to therapy on Monday, but I just don’t know if I can handle that without having at least an hour of my own therapy at some point at least shortly after, without having to wait an entire week.
As I said in another post recently, sometimes coffee is self care. And sometimes stepping away is the best thing you can do.
So that’s what I’m doing. I’m giving myself 15 minutes. The baby is in the pack and play, happy, with a full belly and his favorite toys. And Phoenix is playing with stickers.
I’m less fine, so I’m giving myself a minute to pull it together. Drink a cup of coffee, take a breath, and pull it together.
Good thing my dad isn’t here. He’d call me selfish and lazy again. And tell me that I don’t love my kids or spend any time with them.
yeah. don’t worry. that isn’t hurtful at all.
I’ll leave you with the a picture of Phoenix. Who has been begging to go to the dentist for weeks. He was SO happy when I told him today was the day.
He’s a weirdo. But he’s my weirdo. And I love him more than anything in the entire world.
despite what my fucking dad thinks.