Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Tears, again.

I had intended to catch up on this journal this morning but slept until 11:15 after an evening with fighting with Jack (14) until we were both exhausted.  I know I am not the best parent.  I didn't have a very good example.  I am boggled  by some of his behaviors and don't have much in my wheel house to correct them.  So we argue, he pouts until I cry, and we both go to bed angry and frustrated. Derek tries, he really does, but really what do you do about 14 year old boys?  It's as if their common sense has left them and all that is left is "lazy and messy".  Yup.  I suck at being a mom.  I really do.

[Crying while in pain is awesome by the way]

Today I return to the plastic surgeon in charge of the rebuild.  I am still bleeding into the ports, but much much less.  My chest hurts, my bandages itch, I don't feel like eating, sleeping is hard especially when on such a high liquid diet.  I was up three times last night, which is now the norm, but not easy when getting out of bed is still a struggle.

This is not the first day, nor the last I want to give up the fight, to just stand down and let the universe take me.  I am lazy and messy.


by ~aphostol on Deviant Art




3 comments:

  1. I will say, that unless you have recently whored him out for dope, you are doing much better than many women. you love him and are doing your best to help him not be a douchebag. what more could you ask?

    you are a great mom. really. I fought with my mom almost every day of my 14th year. literally. love her to pieces, she was awesome, and i was being a douche.

    love you.

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    1. huh, this disappeared, but: he's testing his limits, set tighter boundaries, fights or no; I was a pretty messed up 14 y/o, I probably would've been sent to jail if any1 payed attention & trust me, several of my acts should've taken me there, but I think I would've been 100x more messed up then & into the now if that did happen. somehow I survived it (as did my parents) & didn't turn into some psycho killer.

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  2. I keep a reminder of that youth with me, so I know how much I've grown.

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