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Language Log

Wednesday, Jun. 20, 2018 - 2:26 p.m.

U and E are fighting over whether the robot toy is a girl or a boy. This is important, so U hurts E over it.

E comes to me and wants to nurse. I am too tired to deal with the 45 minutes of nagging and crying that will result if I say no, so I do it.

3 minutes in, U comes in asking for food. “NOW. NOW. FOOD....NOW”

“I hear you and when I am done here I will get it for you.”


“I will never get it for you if you keep doing that.”

I put my hands over my ears and hum a single note to drown out the sound. “shut the fuck up” I think, over and over.

He leaves. E switches sides. U comes back. “WHERES MY FOOD. NOW! NOW.” I resume my humming.

He comes into the bed and rolls around on top of me and rubs my head, legs waving in the air. “NOW I SAID NOW WHY ARENT YOU GETTING IT NOW”. E is still latched onto my breast and is kicking U back. Suddenly U’s butt is up on my head and I realize he’s also shitty. The sensory overload is topped off with my rage at having a 5 1/2 year old who still shits in a diaper. I can’t take another second and I explode. I throw him off me into the mattress where Q sleeps. “Get your stinky butt away from me! Get OFF OF ME!!” I scream. E starts crying and I grab his chest. STOP IT I HAVE HAD ENOUGH, I yell at him. “Mommy hurt me!!!” he sobs, but I can’t do any better than grabbing my shirt and bra and run away to upstairs, sobbing/hyperventilating/eyeing the scissors and briefly seeing myself stabbing them into my hand. I suppress that urge. And the urge to rip at my face. Suppressed. For now. Trying to calm down.

I am such a shitty shitty shit someone take these children from me for everyone’s good. I can’t do any better than this. I am failing everyone.

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