Distance

Sometimes, being a single parent just plain sucks.

This is one of those weeks.

She's being particularly freakin annoying challenging this week.  The battles seem to have escalated over the trivial.  (and don't tell me to let it go...one of these is brushing teeth, and that kid already has a crown) With the escalation has come an increase in my own  insanity frustration.  Why on earth can't this child follow directions?!

I know.

She has ADHD.

That is what it means.

Duh.

I have it too.  That makes it trebly frustrating.


The thing is, when you're battling your child for dominance  ... control of the small corner of your universe... oh screw it.  She's four going on five.  It's ALL about who's in charge of her life right now.  And, however much she may like to try to delude herself into thinking that it is she...'tis, in fact, I.

What's that sound?  My head...against a cinder block wall.  Actually, it helps the headache.


But, when you are the parent of a special needs child, you need a break in which you do nothing.

Add to this general level of suckage the fact that the Awesome Auntie just had fab child #2, and according to the Demie  Diva, this child is no longer "puhtend" because she is "out of Auntie H's tummy."  The Awesome  Auntie did five weeks on an antepartum unit because of a complication.  The new child (a girl...) had to arrive at 35 weeks...and did so, at 5 lbs, 14 oz.  She is beautiful.  I've seen pictures, but I am DYING to get my hands on her.

and speaking of dying....my aunt (I have two - one is Bossy, the other Crazy) is not doing well.  My mother is in tears on the phone today as she tells me that the cancer that Crazy Aunt fought like hell against is winning and the ascites have started.  She said goodbye to me when I was in God's country in March.  I said goodbye to her.

And yes, as I type this, there is a Beatles song running through my head.

So, to recap.  Single parenthood sucks at times because: no one to spell you so that you aren't reduced to cinder-block wall headache therapy; no other adult with whom to celebrate the joys of life; no other adult on whom to fall apart.

When I put the Demie Diva to bed tonight, she wanted to read Love you Forever.  And then, as I rocked her back and forth, back and forth, I had to sing "I'll love you forever,/I'll like you for always/ As long as I'm living/My baby you'll be."

For that one moment...maybe it didn't suck as much as it had the rest of today.