Well my little one was doing really well curbing his enthusiasm for shredding anything paper in sight. That ended roughly a week ago… I don’t know what happened but this little monster decided to go all Babyzilla on a couple of books in the living room and ripped them to smithereens. Now, I don’t know why he chose these specific books but the interesting part is that they were the only two books in my whole apartment that his father gave me. They were books I probably wasn’t ever going to read if I’m being completely honest but they were a nice gesture. 

The toddler turned those paper back novels into a paper monsoon within seconds. Decided to turn that monsoon into a massacre and cleaning the carnage turned into a mighty feat of its own. While attempting to clean the crime scene he was making a bigger one and it took longer than expected to get the devastation of naked Stitch’s play time catastrophe cleaned.

I’m not sure if this was just a small relapse, if he’s upset about something, misses his dad, or can sense that I have been irritated with his father, work, and the crushing weight of the economy going down the shitter. But am I an asshole for not caring that he destroyed those specific books. I mean it broke my heart a little because they’re books but it was a little fun watching him destroy something of his dead beat dad’s.

He hasn’t been looking for his dad or calling for him like he used to which makes my life a little easier and a little less heartbreaking since his father isn’t coming back. Ever since we broke up he hasn’t even cared to try and reach out unless he needs me to play Captain Save a Hoe and he refuses to financially help me with this tiny heathen it took both of us to make. His dad has been gone for almost a year and a half and life has gotten extremely chaotic since we started this adventure into having one less parent in the home and me taking on the role of both Mom and Dad. 

The learning curve was mighty and I got it figured out pretty quick though I still stumble and have fallen on my face a few times. The scar on my knee will never let me forget the epic fall that was my lost fight with a toy dragon. And while my kids are a handful and a half, are  neuro spicy, and drive me bat shit crazy… they are still my world.

This healing journey has never been linear. Some days I’m more okay than others and well, since Mother’s Day I’ve been hurting a little more than I was previously. I had to see the ex to give him the car registration and it reopened the old wounds and made me more angry at him because how dare you. How dare you blow up our lives, blame me, and then refuse to help with a child it took to create. Then there was some shady shit with another woman which do you, were not together but good to know you can take care of her but not your son…. He’s just showing me his true colors and that I was right to give up on him. He’s showing me he isn’t who I thought he was and that what we had… Well it was a lie. Again, I kind of figured when he took such a personality shift after the arrest but it’s one thing knowing and another having it confirmed.

Anyway I have some more cleaning to do, some Mike and Molly to binge, a shower to take, dinner to cook, and relaxing too do (crochet and play with Babyzilla). that’s all for now.