(no subject)
Some days, I think...This can't be my life. There is no way I can handle all of this shit. Somedays, I really envy people who have no worries other than deciding what to wear, or who to go see after work. Somedays, I really hate them for having it so easy. In the end I always come back to the realization that I chose my own path, as they chose theirs. I always get the reminder that I have it pretty good, even if I want to rip out my hair when I have a screaming sick child at 2 am. When I've worked for 12 hours, and he's whining because he just wants to climb me like a jungle gym, but I'm so sore and tired I just want to play side by side, and not have to try to balance a chubby knee on my chest so he won't fall and kill himself. When I haven't slept in days, partly because of the insomnia and stress of trying to make ends meet, and still save money to rescue my teeth before they all fall out of my head (thank you genetics)... and partly because he's decided he doesn't need sleep anymore either.... only to have to be up, and coherent, and take care of another life, work all day, clean, cook....function.
There are days I'm in a deep bitter resentment that I can't go out and do something, anything... because I have to be home to care for him, and slave away. Even though, the end always comes, and I'm always greatful, and tired, and smiling back at the half filled in grin of mommy's little monster.
There are days I'm in a deep bitter resentment that I can't go out and do something, anything... because I have to be home to care for him, and slave away. Even though, the end always comes, and I'm always greatful, and tired, and smiling back at the half filled in grin of mommy's little monster.