I don’t feel like writing right now. I don’t feel like doing anything. Despite working hard on my mental health, I’m on the struggle bus right now. I’ve been feeling like crap for almost two weeks now so I haven’t been exercising. I haven’t been writing because I’m unhappy with how things are going with the kids. Work is work. My marriage is going well right now though so at least I have that. I’m holding on to that. So I don’t feel like writing. What’s there to say? My therapist says to write anyway. She says to fight against the chaos and take time for my sanity. I guess that leaves me here, writing against my will. Haha!
Last week my daughter hit me, pinched me, told me no about a thousand times, fought so hard against getting dressed that she ripped her outfit, and tried to bite me on more than one occasion. They’ve both been a lot to handle. After a certain point you just can’t take the screaming anymore. Or the clinginess. They want to be on me all the time. It feels unending and it makes me feel like a shitty parent when I don’t want them around me.
Weekend before last I had the dumb idea to take all of the kids to the Renaissance Festival. The big kids were amazing. I can’t think of a time when I’ve been more impressed by their behavior and I told them as much. The tiny humans were more deranged monkey than human. At one point I found myself carrying The Conqueror under my arm like a duffle bag as she kicked, screamed, and cried. Wanna know how to get everyone to look at you instead of all of the excitement of a Renaissance Festival? Walk by with a screaming toddler. It’s a blast.
So that’s me. That’s my life right now. Two evil little cuties ruling everything and teaching me patience and strength through their very being. This, my friends, is why God made babies cute.