It all adds up

Do you ever have those days where you find yourself emotional and borderline crying over seemingly every little thing?

That’s how I’m feeling. Like, just any little thing has me basically an emotional mess.

Maybe it’s the fact that my husband woke up at 4:45am to go to work and I had to drive him because we only have one car.

Maybe it’s the fact that the 105lb dog pooped and peed on the floor this morning because even though I took him outside and he DID pee, he didn’t get a proper walk because my husband wasn’t home and I had to get all 3 kids ready and out the door. (And do you know how much poop a 105lb XL American Bully makes? A lot. It’s a lot.)

Maybe it’s because my night didn’t go as planned last night, and I woke up (way too freaking early) feeling already unfulfilled because of the night before.

Or maybe it’s because they had the St. Jude partners of hope thing going on on the radio this morning, and there’s just no way to get through listening to all that without being a puddle of emotions.

Maybe it’s because Phoenix turns 6 years old tomorrow, and his birthday for some reason leaves me a damn emotional mess every single year. I don’t know what it is about his birthday in particular, but it absolutely fucks me up.

Maybe it’s because I could only get 2 of my kids a cake pop from Starbucks because I only had $20 left on the gift card, and a third cake pop would’ve pushed it over that limit. And I had no way to reload it this morning. No, my 2 year old doesn’t need a cake pop, but I thought it would be a nice treat for all 3 of them to wake up to something special on Phoenix’s birthday tomorrow. And it’s just all the little things adding up.

Or maybe it’s just the holiday season in general. Feeling inadequate. Not having enough money to spoil all my kids for Christmas and ALL 3 of their fucking winter birthdays. (Like, seriously? All 3 of their birthdays had to book end Christmas? 🤦🏻‍♀️)

Honestly, it’s not maybe any of them.

It’s definitely all of them. Everything adding up. All the small things made to feel like one really big thing.

I historically have a very, very bad night on the evening of December 6th, after the kids are in bed and the introvert in me falls apart after being put together all day to make my son feel special.

Their lives are promised to be shortened, thanks to Myofibrillar Myopathy type 6. And birthdays are just another reminder of a ticking timebomb that I’ll never be able to diffuse.

Maybe it’s okay to cry today.

Maybe I need to cry today, so that I can be stronger and more present tomorrow.

They deserve that.

I deserve that.

He deserves that.