I’ve been wallow-y lately. Lots of stuff going on and little of it easy or smooth. Last week, I cried to the universe: Can’t anything in my life go smoothly!? I think the universe answered: no. Honestly, when I get like this, I’d really like to climb out of my skin and give it away. Who in their right mind would take it?
Self pity. Ugly, messy stuff. A gaggle of quotations run through my mind. I get it. Self pity. A dangerous elixir.
Pouts:
The school year is not winding down gracefully. Julia was late to school six days in a row. A lack of focus on doing the tasks at hand is the raison d’être — redressing a doll, picking up some reading, working on a lego piece has all taken precedence to getting washed, dressed and ready. The loss of focus happens in an instant, my back turns, I make my bed, I run downstairs to start the kettle. And Julia has been disrespectful to teacher twice this week — refusing work, speaking inappropriately, being generally mean. I live in dead fear that this will escalate and mark her as a trouble maker. I fear alienating the very people, her teachers, who are her lifeline to the world. Continue reading
It would have been a hard weekend if all had gone well. But all did not go well and I am on the other side of it. My head aches, my stomach is both tight and churning. And although I slept the night hard with a loving dream of an old professor’s praise for a new child, I awoke exhausted. I could have dropped Julia off at school and ducked beneath the covers. I didn’t. I know my blue moods. This one did not creep up. It was a definite possibility from the start. Though I prepared and hoped it would not to come to fruition, the aftermath could not be unexpected. 
Chasing Joy 