The Calm After The Storm

Ugh. I was beginning to lose my mind.

It’s not just the potty training process that’s on my mind, it’s everything else. I suppose I should start from the beginning.

Last week, we celebrated A1’s second birthday. Now, we only have one child under two. It’s still an exciting and busy time, though. There’s always work to be done, whether it’s on the kids or myself.

If you’ve read “The Burden of Lists”, you may recall some of the life issues I’ve discussed. I’m working on putting some of the repressed sadness to bed once and for all. I’ve been in therapy for five years, and have made progress. The stress that builds up and the reaction are what still need work.

Last weekend, I was in a close friend’s wedding. We had a great time, but it was a lot of driving. Little did I know that I scheduled A1’s party the day after the wedding. The mayhem began Friday.

First, it was the rehearsal. We had to leave the kids with my mother-in-law, which is stressful. Instead of worrying about them right in front of me, I got to worry about them 82 miles from home. We get home late, and then turn around to drive back for the ceremony early in the morning after getting back late. All is well for the day. We get back at 12:30 am. I’m exhausted, and all the preparation my parents were supposedly going to do on Friday never happened, of course, so we had to rush around on Sunday. Fabulous.

I hate rushing. I get caught in this damn trap of rushing. It makes me violent and snappy. I scream at everyone and become super bitchy. Unfortunately, this rage was directed at my in-laws. Some idiosyncrasies don’t mix well with me when I have no sleep and no filter.

I screamed at my MIL. Yes, we have some differences in opinion. Yes, we have some differences in parenting. No, I did not want to answer the 180th stupid ass question about where something was or where to put extra food.

Ever since that day, I’ve had practically no fuse. This sucks. I’ve been taking breaks to calm down, but I still feel frustrated sometimes.


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