I don’t know what to say, stuck in a rut (again).
I am here though, to write or at least put something down on ‘paper’. Mom has begun going to a writing class and that’s one of the things they’ve told her, just write they said. And that’s something I’ve talked about quite a bit here, Just Write They Said. Easier said than done, I feel just beat down.
It’s an ongoing theme. Want to write but stuck? Just begin. I suppose that applies to lots of scenarios. Mom’s asked me a number of times to come with her to her classes but again, I just don’t have the energy. After watching the kids almost every day, for at least a couple hours each time, my enthusiasm wanes for most extra-curricular activities.
And that’s not to blame them or the parents either. Things are what they are. Without us they’d be lost. I say that with sincerity too, not a lick of bravado or over-confidence. I suspect they’d say the same too. We are, as my wife says, their soft landing. That likely applies to my wife first too.
I have my moments but I’m more what I’d call the hard edge, the realist and the rule maker. I have my soft’er’ moments but by and large I don’t like to put up with any bullshit. I won’t say Hard Ass but I get tired rapidly of any whining and poor behaviours.
As far as writing goes this time I just came to Starbucks. Thought of a bar but I just don’t feel up to it lately. Drinking beer, or other booze, just doesn’t really appeal to me right now. Coffee is not much better but today is ‘Happy Hour’ so my Espresso drink is 50% off. Having a chocolate chip cookie with it hits the spot, how can it not.
I just dropped off Madden at Thrive, the after school care facility. Ayron called me from work and said the school called her and mentioned that Madden had fallen at recess and hurt his stomach. He didn’t want to eat at lunch. We are their failsafe so she called me to check on him.
I got there and he was in a small room off the office. The room was outfitted with a small cot and chair, a space suitable for a small medical issue. Madden was sitting patiently in there with his coat and backpack, ready to go. I somehow assumed I’d be able to talk to him first, before determining if he should come to our place or not. At any rate we had a chat and he told me he had slipped off the ladder on the monkey bars and either landed on his tummy or had scraped them on the way down. Either way his stomach was sore, he needed to leave.
I brought him home and we cajoled him for a time. I suspect he was playing it up a bit and once we approached the idea that if he came to our place today he have to give up a day with us next week he caved. The whining and crying began.
I put up with it for a bit then just ignored him and let him cry it out. He seemed to come to the realization that I wasn’t giving in so he relented and decided to go to Thrive when school was over.
It’s just enough, I’m tired and I don’t feel well. I don’t want to do this anymore. We have no time to ourselves, seldom a day nevermind a week or more. Maybe even that wouldn’t help, I don’t know. I just feel done, done like dinner.