Note: this entry will most likely be deleted in 24 hours when I feel slightly less sorry for myself
I can't make it sing today. I'm just too tired of living my life: the life in which one day I am told that my son has taken some of the class materials without permission and the next day I am told that he has been caught playing with his own shit. The life in which I struggle to get a steak into a marinade in the morning, coping with substandard freezer bags and a high degree of unhelpfulness, only to be told at dinner time that the Boy had worked just as hard because he'd barbequed them. The life in which I am the one who is supposed to clean up the breakfast dishes, make the bed, dress Blake in weather-appropriate clothing, make my own lunch, and make sure that when Blake is packed into the car he is accompanied by his uniform and his lunch and not just an enormous shopping bag of toys. The life in which I work all day in the only stable job to support the house, the only one guaranteed to last until Monday, and the one in which I get to clean up oily reeking garbage left behind by teenagers. The life in which my school bag is so well made that my keys have begun poking through the bottom.
The life in which I am not supposed to object when I ask the Boy to set the table and he shoves everything into a big pile in one half and starts plunking plates into the crust of Breakfasts Past. The life in which he is allowed to toss a book in my direction, but that's not hostile, oh no, I am over-reacting as usual, and his anger is okay because it burns itself out, but mine is an ever-bright flame that makes his life unbearable. Because it doesn't count as being angry if you're only holding grudges and keeping score until the next time, so no, my anger is So Much Worse and it hurts his feelings. The life in which I have to stay away from my kid in the evenings because I'm so close to the edge that I feel like crying or shouting at every turn and he might as well be with his father then, because I am No Good To Anyone.
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*