Sometimes I swear that I am. Losing It.
"Bite me..." I dislike that sentence (?) very much. Is it even a sentence? I dislike it even more when it is used by my 17 year old daughter during an argument with her brother over a stupid PSP that I am beginning to wish that Santa never brought. Yes, she is recovering, and I am grateful. No that does not give one a free pass to behave as a 3 year old.
I was always the screamer, the yeller, the "wait till your father gets home"-er. Not often, but only when my two I-think-I-am-an-only-child-ren took me to the brink. Now, when they take me to the brink I am afraid I will drive right off. I sometimes want to drive right off. We, he and I, were a unit. Without him I am the figurehead---unrespected.
They are children...just children. But one is on the brink of adulthood, and dealing with so much more than I could ever dare to post here...that is hers to talk about. I can only tell how that affects me. And it wouldn't make much sense without the other pieces of the puzzle. One we poured our everything into. Lectures about regrets. Admonishments about character. Was it worth it?
I should have taken that drive. No, not that one. I truly would never drive off a brink. The one where I have my dad hang out here for the night and drive down to Ohio to visit some friends and forget how much this is awful for awhile.
Downer. That is me. It's why my keys are in my purse and my jammies are on.
Leonard, if you were just hiding, I would really want you to come back to me and hold me right now. My skin hurts...it misses you.