I Must Be Horrible

There are days, more often than not I'm sad to say, that I am afraid I can't handle much more. Tonight, and all day, my son has been fussy, clingy, and whiney. Very unlike him, yes, but still happening. I find myself pacing through the living room like a mad woman trying to remember who I am and how I got here to begin with. I know I'm not alone, but it sure as hell feels like it.

This evening, I broke the news to Laila that she has a doctor appointment this week, and she'd have to miss another day of school because of it. Double whammie. She hates missing school almost as much as she hates going to the doctor. It's in the hospital, and it's never a fun experience. It's a routine, quarterly check, and it should be fast and painless, but Laila drags it out to something ridiculous. The worst part? Getting her to stand on the scale. I know, it's silly, but for some reason she screams like a banshee and cries like a someone just ripped off one of her arms. Did I mention all this can be heard in the waiting room? Lovely, I know. So we have spent all evening in a funk. Laila hates having diabetes, and believe me, I hate that she has it. Having a "chronical illness" just doesn't seem to fit her, she looks so healthy. I wish with all my heart it didn't have to be this way, and I really wish she knew it. There are days, take today for example, that she treats me so badly. I know she's angry, sad, upset, scared, and a multitude of other emotions I'll never understand, but taking it out on me isn't helping anything. She cries, she winces in pain, she asks why she has to do this day in and day out, and I have nothing. Not an answer, not a magic wand, nothing.

Kenadi, my soulful hippie child, is another hot mess. She's been testing the waters lately with her little attitude of being the oldest at home while Laila's at school, and I'm not sure I like it. She thinks she's free to go into the refrigerator at any time, do as she pleases, and not listen. That's my favorite, the not listening part. It's totally awesome when your 2 year old tells you no. Lucky for her, this isn't my first time dealing with a 2 year old that thinks she's 20, I wasn't born yesterday. It just amazes me how different 2 children can be, and how one style of discipline wont necessarily work for them both. We have an understanding, her and I, but I think sometimes she forgets who is really in charge.

My sweet little man, he's had a rough day. Maybe he was too young to leave with someone, though Joanne did a phenomenal job I must say. He's literally been in my arms 80% of the day today. The other 20% has either been spent eating, sleeping, or crying on the floor for a few minutes while I scramble to get something done around here. It's almost 9:30pm and I finally gave up. I put him down in his crib and let him cry for a few minutes. Nothing major, just long enough for his little lulla-bye to play through. If he is still crying when it's over, I pick him up. I have only had to go into his room a handful of times to get him, here's to hoping tonight isn't one of those nights. Before we left for our "mini-vacay" he had an eye cold. With antibiotics and a loving mommy friend, he's doing just fine, I think he just missed me and is afraid I'm leaving him again. I hope he gets over this separation anxiety issue fast, I love him to death but I can't stand holding him all day! It's more my problem than his, I physically can't stand being touched, and it's miserable. For both of us.

Tomorrow is another day, and hopefully a better one. Until then, I've got a cup of tea and an episode of Grey's Anatomy waiting for me. We all will sleep it off tonight, and wake up refreshed tomorrow. Hopefully, tomorrow I won't feel like I'm still in this alone.