Miraculously, I got the two little boys in bed by around 11:15 – and this after much screaming and crying and being entirely too wound up from having Kim and Drew over for a thank-you dinner. (We get to go home today, so I made a nice smothered steak meal last night.) Miles, of course, was not tired in the slightest.
Or rather… he was, but he was also ooked at out being in a not-home place without any familiar lights. He’s starting to “wake up” to the reality that weird feelings mean something and that all of the dreams communicate.
Yesterday, the kids’ writing assignment was a journal entry on what they’d like to see different about the way our family runs, both here and in Texas. Miles’ paper covered a lot of ground, but mostly it reflected why he’s so stressed out and angry all the time: he wants to spend more time interacting with people on a friendly level, sharing more of the chore and work load with others, and actually relating to his parents as people instead of as disciplinarians. I can totally relate to that. He talked about being grumpy because the grown-ups were grumpy all the time.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I’m not just grumpy: about half the time, I’m fighting off a full-blown panic. I am just about in the most fucked-up, shitty position on the planet, and yet I have to keep the smiley face on and keep on trucking because otherwise, it’ll just get WORSE.
And, yeah, it can get worse. I know it can. I don’t want it to, but at the same time, I’m not sure how to get out of this fucking hole.
It’s not just about the work that has to be done on the house or the bills that have to be paid or the kids that have to be fed: it’s about actually having the money for the truck to move everyone down there. It’s about having a place to go once we get there. It’s about starting the life that we need instead of waiting, again.
If you’re not with me… just get the hell out of my way. (And that’s not to anyone in particular, but it’s definitely sincere.)