So have I mentioned that I really,
really, really hate having a kid who is sick all the friggin’ time? And I’m not even talking about her pain, her
suffering. I’m talking about the impact
that it has on my whole life. The fact
that my husband and I argue about all sorts of stupid trivial stuff. Things like, say, what our relatives are
allowed to give our kids for Christmas.
We have incredibly stupid arguments along
the lines of…“You’re not who I fell in love with.” , Where does all the money
go?” and this great one, “You need to go out and do things, so that you won’t
be so lonely, but remember that it has to be cheap.”
I hate it that medical necessity has put
us so far into debt that we repeatedly need to borrow money from others. I further hate it that because of this…if we ever
do have two pennies to rub together; such a blessed event is inevitably accompanied by feelings
of guilt and fear.
I hate it that although my husband is
working and going to school, I cannot believe that this will ever pan out to be
anything beneficial in our lives, because, damnit, I can no longer bring myself
to believe that things will not fall
apart given the first possible strong wind.
And, yes, I know that is so selfish
of me. I know that I am an absolute
beast for being this self absorbed, and that this insipid, whiney post doesn’t portray me as
anything like the patron saint of patient nurse-mommies, but sometimes…no
often times, that outward portrayal of myself just makes me want to vomit.
And I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I have led anyone to believe
differently. Some days I simply can’t be
that woman. Some days I am just the girl
who misses running around the corner to the pub to have a beer and play a mindless
game of pool. Or who simply wants to do
I’m sorry to vent. I try to keep this from being one of THOSE
blogs. But today just felt really
crappy. And since I am out here with
absolutely no freakin’ emotional support system…
you – the great big ole
blogoshere – get to read it. If, that
is, you are still reading. Were I you,
I’d have closed the page before the end of the first paragraph.