Things overheard on American Housewife tonight:
- Kids should come with a warning, don’t have kids
- What’s wrong with you Greg? Why can’t you let A.O. play a little grab ass
- Dad talk to your wife, she made my friend eat out of the garbage
When Greg sees Taylor and A.O. holding hands and breaks in between them grabbing their hands and singing “red rover, red rover” I almost snorted tea out my nose. Daddys and their little girls, priceless.
As always more to come.
Motherhood a pain you never forget. Or is that childbirth, a pain you always forget?
Some say in order to experience pure joy you first have to experience pure sorrow. That’s me recently with my mood swing roller coaster of emotions. I’m running the gamut between the two.
On a constant loop in my brain, I have a list of things I worry about. Exclusively, my worries relate to my kid. Billy Bob asked me yesterday: Why do you do that? Why do you always assume the worst? Can’t you give it a chance to work out? Without the unnecessary freak out? And he’s got a point. Dammit I hate it when he’s right. Which is most of the time.
At the moment, the sun is out and things are better. Last night was one of the worst nights of my life. I didn’t realize how the anniversary of the painful event would affect me but it has affected me immensely. And I realize there are still things that need to be done so we can move forward. And I’m overwhelmed with what’s out there. And I don’t have time for this pity party.
So I stepped away to eat lunch. And I’m sitting here in tears. They are absolutely flowing. And it’s OK because the rest of the Riverwalk crew are other places today. No one to ask me “hey are you OK?” Because I think if asked I would fall to the floor.
Why does love have to hurt so much? Because that’s what this is. Love for my kid. And I feel the need to defend and protect her. I vascillate between love and anger with good measure of guilt piled on.
She’s trying very hard. As I see her trying, I’m rocked to my core. Who the hell else cares about how hard she tries or how well intended she is except me or her dad? Who else would love my child to the depths that I do?
You see I know HOPE. She can be a fickle bitch. And LIFE well she’s not fair. I’m helplessly standing by waiting for the other shoe to drop. Will I be ready? Or will I fold?
Thank goodness my appointment is tomorrow. I think next time I’m going to schedule two weeks out not a month. Had it not been for the outlet of these past few writings, I might’ve ended up in hospital psychiatric ward.
I get down on my knees and pray. Thank you music. The classic Who.
As always more to come.
First I was working on my desktop Sunday. Some things are just easier by mobile app so Second I was moving between the two. Clearly user error is a problem on both platforms. I accidentally cut off a chuck of The Moral to the Story. I had a PS to highlight two music videos and call out three other blogs.
Ugh! When I get home I’m going to try and recover the final. Ugh! I likely won’t get all my edits. Oh well. Small potatoes.
As always, more to come.