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Language Log

Sunday, May. 23, 2021 - 10:13 p.m.

The day started okay. I was getting work done. Then we went to get croissants, a weekly ritual that inevitably involves M and/or U yelling at E to be quiet. Today they got into a fight with each other, too. The consequences of not going are dire given the importance of routine, but I often think it’s be less trouble for them to melt down at home than in a car where there’s more collateral damage.

Anyway they got into it. No one will stop just because I say stop.

I’m not sure what I did... told her not to yell at E to be quiet when he wasn’t even making a damn noise, I think. And she said terrible things to me. I don’t have that thick skin mothers are supposed to have. That “hahaha ohhhhh my child says she hates me, hahaha, preteens, amiright?!” attitude. No. I have to suppress the urge to self harm and fight of flashes of suicidal ideation. Yet another way in which I fail as a parent.

Anyway it killed my day, killed my spirit. 10 hours later and my eyes still hurt, face still hurts, nose won’t unclog. I slept some and it helped but unfortunately I fucking woke up again.

Oh god and I even forgot about the part where just prior to this fight, E projectile vomited strawberry smoothie. Yeah. It was a day.

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