Friday, May 29, 2009
I've been REALLY trying to stay positive, get in some kind of movement every day, and stay on my calorie plan. I swear I am. But I just can't take everything else anymore.
My son, who will be 5 next month, has decided that he doesn't want to go to kindergarten in September - so he's been pooping his pants. Or pull-ups rather. This week culminated in him getting diaper rash yesterday. Diaper rash. This is a child who hasn't had a diaper in 2 years. We SHOULD have been a happy family enjoying the kindergarten open house last night and then going to dinner, but Adam decided that he didn't want to go and messed himself SIX times yesterday. SIX. Who goes six times a day? Only maniacal little boys trying to drive fragile mothers over the edge. My husband's brilliant plan? Find him a therapist. A therapist. Do they even have therapist's for 5 year olds? I have issues with him going to kindergarten too - I should have been scheduling my c-section for the week before he went. The week of our 7th anniversary. It's hard. I don't know when it's going to stop being hard.
Everyone on the flipping planet is pregnant. And they are smug about it. I used to defend the smug preggers, it's a happy time and all, but I can't right now. I want to be that happy, but it isn't going to happen right now. I can't seem to make myself reconcile that. I can't seem to make myself believe the positive things I used to believe. I honestly and whole heartedly have always believed that you make some of your own happiness. I love my husband and my son and I want to be able to focus on and enjoy them to get through this - but my son is acting out and it makes it difficult to enjoy him right now. My heart is breaking to admit that, but it is hard to enjoy someone who seems intent on spending their waking hours finding ways to get into trouble. He's refusing to bathe, toilet correctly, clean up his mess, eat, etc...He seems to relish in being argumentative and obstinate. If one more person tells me it's a phase...
I know everyone wants their life to be like a smooth sheet, and that the wrinkles are what make a life a life, but right now I can't seem to iron. The wrinkles are too much, and too big, and I feel like an ant trying to climb the mountain. NOTHING is going the way it should. So I stress eat. And I don't get in the exercise I inteded to get in. And I forget to take care of me, because everything else is the squeaky wheel, and I am completely out of grease.