case of the mondays


So I thought I would cease hating Monday’s when I left the corporate world and stayed home with the kids. After today I decided that is not so. The day started out fine, we went to speech therapy and from there had an appointment with a nutritionist for my oldest. Well I got stuck in traffic, got there 15 minutes late after driving for 45, and checked in. The kids and I sat down and were told about 8 minutes later that since we were now 25 minutes late, the appointment was not going to happen. My heart just broke,my kid will not eat. He lives on waffles and mac and cheese. He passed out in camp this summer and the doctor suspected it was from being malnourished. This has been happening for 4 years and I was so excited to see the nutritionist, I waited 3 months for the appointment. And she just shut us out. So of course I don’t take being told no well. I refused to make another appointment, and told the receptionist I would find someone else to do it. I was mad on so many levels, my kids nutrition needs were not discussed today, it takes months to get an appointment so I mean 1/2 will have gone by if I did reschedule, I have to take my other child there for hearing tests, and endo, and cardiology, and I decided I am done with them. Really done. I was so mad, so upset. My husband was like the other doctors there aren’t like that, so don’t over react, but really. Come on, it’s a nutritionist how busy can they possibly be? It wasn’t like I was going to see an ENT in a childrens hospital, and I’ve waited for up to half an hour before at that location before being taken in, I’ve waited for an hour at my own doctor and the kids pedios. Then I was just so mad, because my kid won’t even try to eat. He got sick 4 years ago from a hamburger, he probably had a virus since no one else got sick, and he just stopped trying food. So my new rule when he came home from school was, you are going to eat and you are not allowed to say no. So for dinner I made him mussels, and I made him eat 1. After seeing him do this, I made him a small container of kids raviolis, and he’s never had them and he ate the whole thing. I explained to him, how people who don’t eat get really sick and end up being hospitalized, I told him people who just eat sugar also can get very sick, I told him about people who are in need of food and don’t have the offerings he wastes, I told him about his great grandmother who lived in London during WWII with food rations and about his other great grandmother who had an abusive father, who would eat steaks in front of his kids and not feed them, I told him I was tired of arguing with him, begging him, and I was so worried about him. He’s not the only major road bump I had today, my other child spilled chocolate milk all over the sofa and the throw rug. That was a huge mess. Then I spent my normal amount of time picking up dirty clothes, clean clothes, legos, toys, cups, trash, empty water bottles. It’s just non-stop. I don’t expect my children to act like 40 year olds, but they should be old enough to pick up after themselves and to eat food. My day is cleaning up after the whole family, driving everywhere, cleaning the house and going to bed. Day in and day out. I sometimes wish I wasn’t the responsible one. I’ve been responsible since I was probably in elementary school. My parents are/were alcoholics so I was always feeding myself, doing my own homework and trying to take care of my stuff. Our home was a mess, they never cleaned. My clothes were clean and I was clean, but the house was a mess. My grandmother took me in and I never lived in a messy house again, but I somehow ended up being the one everyone in the family relied on, to solve problems, to make them laugh, to pick sides in a fight, for. I was always the one to not party in college, or to clean up when everyone else passed out, I was the one to drive everyone else home. So enough of my complaining. But when my husband asks me why I can’t relax or why I am not having fun, it’s because I am always being responsible. I never felt like I was a kid, or a college student, just always on the cusp of being the most responsible person in the room. I love being a parent, but sometimes I feel like I am going to wake up one day tired of all the responsibilities for the whole family and go all Jon and Kate on myself. We all remember what happened to them when they got burned out from being parents either that or a spa day, since neither of those things will happen, I will probably just have to settle for this rant.

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