0063. 5 things: Day 1

I've been horribly down lately, and I emailed my friend Tibby, who I love and adore. She suggested that I start a "five things" journal. Since I haven't used this in a while, I figure that posting my Five Things would be a good move. Five Things is where I psot 5 good things about my day, every day. This is day 1.

1. I managed to get my house picked up.
2. I spent time with Monkey.
3. I made delicious hamburgers that were just a tad on the spicy side. PK loved them.
4. PK came home early and wants to spend time together.
5. I didn't have to go to clinicals today.

0057. feels like every time i get back on my feet [trouble] come around & knock me down again

iTunes: Trouble - Ray La Montagne

Mood: tired, irritated, frustrated, done

Today wasn't bad. It really wasn't. I slept in a little bit, but still managed to make it to school on time. I was sleepy, but I didn't fall asleep in class. I understood what was going on (for the most part - I have a lot of studying to do this weekend). When we had a tutoring session with the director of the xray program (who is also our Principles of Radiographic Imaging II teacher), I actually understood what was going on. So, the morning wasn't bad I guess.

I had an appointment at the VA today, and driving up there is always crappy because it's a 40 minute drive (one way). I'm already really tired, and long drives tend to put me in a coma so I spend the whole drive up there and back either singing at the top of my lungs or on the phone.

The appointment I had today was for my Well Woman appointment, which is always super fun. They have a special clinic just for us chicks so that we don't have to deal with being around men while we're going to have special girl time, which I like. Unfortunately, I learned today that they're taking this option away and I'll be having my next WW appointment with my Primary Care doctor. I don't like that option so much. See, my doc is a female, but I don't always see her because she's busy. Sometimes I see a resident, and occasionally that resident is a male... and I have PTSD... that doesn't allow me to be comfortable around males (I'm honestly surprised that I'm married). Anyway. When I went into the room for my exam, one of the Primary Care docs was there to "brush up" on his Well Woman technique and I instantly froze up. My hands started shaking and I'm pretty sure I forgot how to breathe. My OB/GYN noticed and sent him out while I was changing, but the damage was done. To top it off, there's an issue with my cervix that's sending me to the Gyno specialist.

Really, the appointment wasn't that bad. I've had far worse, I assure you.

I went home after and it was early enough that Monkey was still in school so I took a little (much needed) nap. After I picked her up, she started talking, and didn't stop until I put her to bed 2 minutes ago. PK came home feeling grumpy and crappy and in an all around bad mood. I'm stressing out about money and school and everything else going on in my life. I'm ready to be done with it all and I've got SO MUCH MORE LEFT. I know 4 1/2 semesters may not seem like a lot, but when you're this burned out, it really fucking is.

I took half of a Valium earlier and I hope to God it kicks in soon because I need to not care right now. Or just be chill. Or something. I just need to chill. PK wants me to go into the bedroom and watch the fucking Godfather ("the best movie of all time!") but I don't like it so I'm procrastinating. It's not like I don't have 16,000 other things to do any way, but still. I need to spend time with my husband.

0047. Really? Again?

I was in lab today, positioning a "patient" for an xray and I was slightly off. I was only off by a few degrees on the angle, and the instructor was really heavy with her praise, but I took it hard anyway. In fact, I burst into tears.

It's stupid, I know. I had no reason to cry. I'm not doing horribly in positioning class. I'm too hard on myself and I'm stressing out so bad over all of this (school, money, the house, Tessa, Monkey's behavior problems, my sleep problems...) that it really was only a matter of time before I cracked. I tend to bottle things up for so long that I end up exploding after a while. Today just happened to be that day.

Monkey got in trouble again today. And yesterday. Yesterday, she "pushed a friend/name calling" and "poked a student with a sharp pencil". Today, she was "playing on the mat during math time". I'm not sure what to do anymore. She hasn't gotten in trouble for pushing, name calling, or poking with sharp pencils before, but she's gotten in trouble for playing during learning time more than once. She's been grounded, had her dress-up clothes taken away, had her butt popped... What else do I do to make her listen? I can't have her being bad every day.

I pulled out the same speech my mom gave me. "You're not there to make friends. You'll use what you learn in school every day of your life. You have to pay attention in school. You don't play during school except during recess." (I of course immediately called my mom after this and apologized for rolling my eyes at her all through school when she said this to me) Monkey told me she understood, but she always says she understands, then goes right back to school and gets in trouble.

Thing is... She was on "green" today. They're on a stop light system: red light-office, yellow light-warning, green light-good. But she had a substitute teacher today, and she said the teacher just forgot to change her color clip. M actually ratted herself out by telling me that. When I picked her up from daycare, she told me she was on green, I wasn't going to check her binder. I rarely do when she's on "green" since there's usually nothing in there for me to check. But then she went on to tell me that the teacher forgot to change her clip. Oops. Now she's cooped up in her room, not allowed to watch TV (from yesterday), not allowed to play with her Barbies (from today), and waiting for her spanking.

I can't wait for the 27th. I have an appointment with my psychiatrist. I'm thinking that I need to up my dosage again, because this shit ain't fucking working.

0036. you're amazing just the way you are

Monkey and I spent the weekend with my Aunt G and Uncle M. Twin and I grew up spending weekends with them, so being at their house brought back a lot of memories (even though it's not the house they lived in while Twin and I were growing up... they just had a new place built, and it's absolutely gorgeous). We swam in the pool, hung out by the water, ate dinner together, and watched tv until we passed out. What's unusual is that I was the one who woke up early. Normally, I sleep until Aunt G literally drags me out of bed. But for some reason, I was up at 5:30. Probably because I've been waking up for school. That, and I wasn't sleeping next to my husband, who had band practice and had to stay home for the weekend.

Yes, I'm one of Those Women. I'm so accustomed to sleeping next to her man that I find it difficult to sleep without him. Also, sleeping next to my daughter, who routinely tosses, turns, and kicks me in the back is kind of difficult. LOL.

Anyway. While Aunt G and I were watching Sunday Morning, there was a section on Blogging and we got to talking about MKR. I mentioned how I wished that I could devote more time to it. I love reading, I love blogging, and I know that I can make money blogging, but I don't have the time to do it right now because I have to be able to make money in the mean time until the blog takes off.

She mentioned that she has a friend in her neighborhood who runs a website where moms can work from home. I've heard of schemes like that before so I kind of went "yeah right" and humored her... until she actually showed me the site. She's been featured on the local news here, but she's also been featured in nationally syndicated magazines. I haven't called or written to the lady yet (it's still Sunday as I'm writing this) but I plan to do so after I get off work tomorrow. Why? Because I desperately want to quit my job.

It's not that I'm not grateful to BossLady for helping me out when I was in a bind. I am. But I can't deal with whiny ass brats or idiots all the time right now. I think working from home might be just what I need until I can get through school and get my meds straight (just had them adjusted again).

0026. I hate my cats. Still.

I've never really been what you'd call a cat person. In fact, I sort of hate them. But I got Stinky for Monkey anyway, because I felt she needed an animal to grow up with, and a dog is out of the question because we live in a small condo with no yard for the dog to run in. At the time we got Stinky, I didn't know that PK was going to move in with us, because he'd been hemming and hawing over us officially living together for a while. While I'm over the moon that PK finally did move in with us, I'm not-so-ecstatic that the animals came with. Obviously.

Remember my I Haz Anger post? I hand-wrote an "I Haz Anger... Part 2" post the other night. To sum up (because the hand-written post is about 5 pages long): the cats pooped on Monkey's comforter. A few days later, I accidentally locked them in my room and they pooped and peed on my comforter, which is too large for me to put in the washing machine, so I had to take it to the laundromat. The day I got the comforter from the laundromat, they peed on Monkey's bed.

If you remember from my last post, I've been having some serious anger issues lately. I had all sorts of fantasies about how I was going to kill the cats. Antifreeze in their drinking water. Letting them out of the house. Running them over with my car. Throwing them out the window... I'm not a violent person normally, but this is getting out of control and I don't know what to do.

PK won't let me get rid of the animals. Any of them. Even though Tessa sits in her cage all the time, never played with, rarely talked to, and making a mess for me to clean up - because even though she's PK's bird, I'm the one who feeds, waters, and cleans up after her. The same goes for the cats (although PK does play with the cats a lot - they're his babies). I'm the one who feeds and cleans up after them.

And how fair is that?? Why is is that I'm the one taking care of them? They're not mine. I don't want them. And yet I'm saddled with the responsibility of keeping them alive & happy. If I had it my way, they'd be given to good homes or sold (in Tessa's case... she's worth about $3,000).

Per TwiMom227's suggestion, I'm going to write a letter to PK, stating my feelings on the situation and asking for a peaceful (and fair) resolution. The one thing I have to say though... if Ditto continues to use anything but the litterbox as his place to pee, he's got to go. I cannot and will not allow him to remain here if he does. It's not sanitary and I refuse to put my child (and myself) in that kind of living situation. Not to mention the risk of toxoplasmosis...

I had Monkey's carpet professionally cleaned today. The guy who did the room said that the smell might come back, because the carpet was fairly saturated in urine, and because it's especially acidic, it's likely already gone through the padding and is possibly starting to eat at the concrete below (cat urine is acidic, concrete is alkaline. mixing the two is not good juju). I'm going to call the landlord and ask him if we're allowed to rip out the carpet and replace it with something else. I'm thinking wood flooring, since carpet sucks. We already have to replace the wood flooring in front of the bathroom because the asshole Ditto used that for his bathroom before he discovered Monkey's room.

God, I hate my cats.

0022. the beat was going strong playing my favorite song

iTunes: "I love rock & roll" - Britney Spears

Mood: tired, slightly irritated, but still ok (complicated?)

Today wasn't horrible. It was busy, but not bad. By the time 2:00 rolled around, I was seriously clock-watching cause I was so ready to go home. 3:00 hit, and I ran out the door. Went & picked Monkey from school and had to take her home to change her shirt because she managed to get green frosting all over it (they made "Christmas trees" out of waffle cones, green frosting, and M&Ms). I decided to take her to the nail salon so that we could get our nails done.

I love taking her to get her nails painted, she's so adorable when she's picking out the color and trying to be patient about how long it's taking for them to dry. Normally, I take her Leapster and she sits there fairly quietly playing while I get my nails redone. Today, she played her Leapster for about 10 seconds and proceeded to spin the chair around, kick the chair away from the table, mess with everything on the table (especially the fan and the lamp)... basically anything she could do to get in trouble.

I don't know what's going on with her lately, but she refuses to listen to me. She looks right at me with that little glint in her eyes and does exactly what I tell her not to. Then she laughs at me when I get mad at her for doing it! What the hell??? Is it an age thing? Is it a phase? Is it her way of saying "Pay more attention to me and stop being such a shitty mom?" I don't know what the hell to do! Spanking and time out isn't working. Talking to her like an adult isn't working. Talking to her like a child isn't working.

I'm at that point where I'm overwhelmed from everything and I feel like I'm constantly on the verge of having a panic attack. I need a fucking break. Not just from Monkey (my mom's planning on taking her for a weekend sometime soon), but from everything. Work, school, PK... LIFE.

I feel like I'm being all whiny and irritating because everyone gets overwhelmed sometimes and needs a break, but FUCK! How am I supposed to center my fucking chi and calm the hell down if I can't even take a shower without someone (namely Monkey) crawling up my ass & asking me 10,000 questions?!

0017. I lost my iPhone, there's no music

iTunes: none. Can't find my phone & too lazy to pull up the program on the laptop

Mood: tired as fuck

I had stuff to talk about. Lots of stuff. I've been blogging in my head all day. But by the time I got home today (at 7-fucking-PM), I was so tired that I could barely stand long enough to make dinner. Thank God I made sloppy joes for PK & Monkey tonight. Those are super easy and quick to make. After I made grub, I drank my protein shake, took my meds, and laid my head down in PK's lap while he sat on the couch... and promptly fell asleep.

I didn't get to sleep too long. Monkey kept asking for more tater tots and trying to get up from the table, so it wasn't easy to stay asleep. That's ok. I don't need to sleep on the couch. Last time I did, I hurt my neck and the last thing I need is to hurt my neck again.

If you don't read the Twitloss blog, I've started a 2 week cleansing diet called Nu-Lean in conjunction with the Phentermine (appetite suppressant) pills. It's very strict, but it'll clean out my system of toxins and flush out my liver and upper GI tract of all the crap I dump into it. I can only eat a few raw almonds, water-filled vegetables (i.e. cucumber, celery, broccoli, Brussels sprouts, lettuce, cabbage...) and baked chicken or fish (no butter, no salt). I drink a TON of water, take a boatload of vitamins, quick fat burn tablets, and protein shakes. It's only for 2 weeks, but it'll supposedly make me feel better and help me to lose weight faster. I need to get over this stupid 190lb hurdle.

I updated my Kindle with an eARC from one of my absolute most favorite authors (MEGAN HART!) and am now ready to fall flat on my face. I think I'm gonna head to bed in order to prevent breaking my nose or giving myself a black eye. Nini.

0015. I haz anger.

iTunes: nothing

Mood: pissed the hell off

We have 2 cats named Stinky & Ditto. They may seem cute & cuddly, but in reality, they're devil cats sent straight from the pits of hell to annoy me to death.

The thing is, I don't really like cats. I hate them, actually. I never really have been an animal person, but in the last 7 or 8 years, I've really gotten to the point where I loathe those little asshole balls of fur who exist to piss me off.

It started with the cats my roommate Nerf & I had. Their names were Harm & Mac (yes, we named them after the characters from JAG). We didn't have the money to get them fixed, so Harm started spraying the apartment. Mac decided to follow his lead and she started peeingeverywhere. I ended up getting rid of them and paying to have the carpet cleaned, but it was so bad that the apartment complex had to replace the carpets, the padding, and have the concrete below it cleaned.

This makes me seem like I'm not a clean person. I am. I have OCD and I routinely bleach everything in the house. If it doesn't smell like bleach, it doesn't smell clean to me and that makes me insane (told you - OCD). On weekends, I've been known to get in the corners with a bucket of bleach water & clean the baseboards with a toothbrush. I blame my mom for making us do this when we were kids, but I also thank her for it,because my house is spotless. And I usually get my security deposit back when I move (obviously, I didn't in the other place).

When PK moved in, Ditto came as part of the package. He had another cat named Sam as well, and I really loved him (he was more like a dog than a cat, and he was cool as hell), but he died shortly after they moved in from heart disease. Ditto is friendly, but he's definitely PK's cat. He climbs into PK's lap when he gets home, and sneaks up to PK's face to try and get kisses from him. It's really cute to watch, actually.

Because I wasn't sure if PK was going to move in or not (at the time) and I wanted Monkey to have a pet to grow up with, I got Stinky from my mom (Monkey re-named him... he used to be Gibbs -from NCIS- but when he moved here, his food got changed to indoor cat food, and his tummy didn't adjust right away... Monkey said he was STINKY! and it stuck).

So now, I'm stuck with 2 cats. And a bird (her name's Tessa. She's relatively cool, except for the fact that she tosses her food out on the floor all around her cage... and her cage smells weird, even right after I clean it out -- birds are gross).

The reason why I haz anger? Last week (the week before?), when PK was at rehearsal, I was hanging around the house. I was on the phone with my cousin MamaDee when I decided I was going to head into my room to watch my shows. When I walked into my room, I noticed that it smelled pretty strongly of poo in there. The bathroom connects to our bedroom, so I went to close the door while whichever asshole was in there could finish & cover it up with the entirely too expensive cat litter I have to buy every week. But the odor didn't leave when I closed the door.

I walked over to my side of the bed so that I could take off my jewelry before launching an investigation as to where the hell the smell was coming from. And that's when I saw it. Stinky was sitting on my bed... next to a fresh pile of dung.

Even though I was still on the phone with MamaDee, I started freaking out. I screamed at the cat (who promptly RAN out of the bedroom) and started gagging (I don't do well with poop - it's gross). Then I started crying because a) there's poop on my bed b) I don't have any clean sheets and c) I'd just cleaned out the litter box. I scoop it out daily, but I replace the litter at least once a week. Like I said before: OCD.

So, I hung up the phone, picked up the nasty & flushed it, then set about the task of washing both sets of sheets so that we'd have something to sleep on. I called my mom and cried. I called Jaime and cried (sorry about that - I'm a whackjob, I know). And then I put on my big girl panties and dealt with it. Of course, I kicked the little bastards out of my room and haven't allowed them back in since, but that's beside the point.

When PK got home, I calmly told him what happened, and then told him I couldn't handle it anymore. There's no reason for either cat to be shitting on our bed. There's even less reason for Ditto to be peeing on the wall by the bathtub or by the main door to the bathroom (I've caught him doing it).

I have anger issues sometimes. I may have a long fuse, but once my temper blows, it's explosive and you don't want to be in the way when I go off. And when I saw that pile on my bed, I saw RED. I imagined throwing the little fucker out the window and praying he hit something on the way down (we live on the 2nd floor). I've imagined kicking them clear across the room. I would NEVER harm an animal that way, but I've certainly imagined it.

I've been asking PK for a few months now to fix Monkey's door. It doesn't latch properly, and the cats sneak in there at night. It's cute when they want to sleep with her, but when I was leaving her closet door open all the time, they took it upon themselves to pee in there. I borrowed my mom's steam cleaner to clean the carpet in there, and started closing the door. I thought that was the end of it.

I was wrong.

Tonight, Monkey was being difficult and didn't want to go to eat her dinner. We've been having issues with her not wanting to eat unless it's chicken nuggets, hamburgers, or mac & cheese, so we sent her to bed without anything else. I always feel bad when I do it, but if she doesn't learn, she'll never eat what she's given.

Anyway. We sent her to her room to put on her jammies. She kissed PK good night & I told her to climb into her bed and I'd be there in a minute for prayers & to tuck her in (I was cleaning up the kitchen from dinner). She went into her room and shouted "Mooooommmmm! There's pee on my bed!" I immediately thought she'd accidentally wet the bed, although there wasn't anything there this morning, and she hasn't done that for months. So, I went in there and she pointed to a yellowish stain on her white down comforter. I leaned down to smell it, and sure enough, it was cat urine.

WHAT THE FUCK?

Then, she pointed to her (closed) closet door and says "Mommy, there's poop!" And I immediately yell for PK because I'm livid again.

He comes into her room, sees the pee on her bed and the poop by her closet, and immediately walks out again. At first, I'm pissed because he's not dealing with it, but then he comes back in with a toolbox and starts working on her door to keep the little fucks out of there. He tried his best, but wasn't able to fix it tonight. He's going to have to get a file and a chisel and work on it.

And yeah, I'm happy that he's finally working on it, but I asked him to fix her door or to teach me how to do it months ago. He used to tell me that he likes the fact that the cats go in to sleep with her at night and that's why he wasn't fixing it, but honestly... I think he was just being lazy. And that pisses me off too. Because if he hadn't been lazy, the asshole cats wouldn't have been able to defile her room.

I want to get rid of the stupid fucking cats and never have to deal with them again. But I can't. Because they're not mine, and PK & Monkey love them. I will say this though - when they die, that's it. No more cats. No more birds. No dogs. No guinea pigs. No hampsters. MAYBE we'll get some fish. But I refuse to get any more animals that I'm going to have to take care of (when I don't even like the stupid things!) and are going to make a big fucking mess.

Edit: Yes, I know it's kind of funny that they pooped on my bed. It's disgusting, but it's funny. I can see that through the haze of anger. But it's disgusting, unsanitary, and just plain wrong, so I reserve the right to be livid.

0007. you fall away from your past but it's following you

iTunes: The Fray - Fall away
Mood: Tired, but happy

Monkey's first day of Kindergarten was today. When I went to wake her up this morning, she was resistant at first (even grunting at me when I told her it was time to get up), but when I told her it was time to go to her big girl school, she jumped right out of bed and ran to the shower so she could have her hair all nice & curly for her first day of big girl school.

I got her to school early (which is kind of a first for me, since I'm chronically late for everything) and we sat in the parking lot for a minute while I did my makeup and she bounced up and down in the backseat asking if it was time to go inside yet and if she could raid her Tinkerbell lunchkit because she was "starving for cookies". When it was finally time, I took her picture at the entrance of the school and we made our way to her class.

The minute we saw her teacher, she turned into the shy kid she was pretending to be last Friday when I took her to meet her teacher (She actually screamed when the principal tried to get down on his knee -so he was at her level- and shake her hand last week). I took her into the classroom, showed her where she stowed her lunchkit and grabbed her nametag. The kids have to wear a badge with their name and picture on it kind of like I have to at work or the highschool kids do...

To be honest, that kind of weirded me out and made me feel safer at the same time. At least I know that there won't be any random people walking around the school without someone going "Hey, where's your badge and have you checked in at the front office" now. Though... a 5 year old running around a school? Kind of makes me wonder what kind of kidnapper/terrorist they're expecting. I know, I'm a paranoid freak.

Anyway. We got her situated, and she chose to sit in front of a pink jar of play dough at the green table (I don't know why that was significant) and I took more pictures. Then, she fave me the look. You know, the "are you really leaving me here alone?" look.


This is the part where I started crying.

I gave her a big hug and a kiss (ok, several), and made myself leave. I knew that if I didn't leave right at that point, I was going to grab her up and take her with me. But I know that I've got to let my baby girl grow up at some point, and since there's not much I can do about her being 5 and ready for Kindergarten, I sort of have to now. I don't like it, but I'm accepting it. Sort of.
I just keep remembering when I first had her... she was so tiny and small and helpless. totally dependent on me. And now I'm taking her to Kindergarten... I know I've got 12 more years of this stuff, but it feels like I'll be watching her graduate from high school next week. I mean, it sure as hell feels like I just found out I was pregnant with her yesterday, and that was almost 6 years ago!
I know, this is something that every mother goes through. Doesn't make it any easier to watch my little girl start to grow into her own little person. She's got such fire and personality in her. She's truly the best thing that I have ever done in my life, and the best thing to ever happen to me.

I need to go give her a squeeze now, even though it's way past her bed time. Just one little squeeze. She won't even wake up. No, really. I sneak in there for cuddles all the time. She sleeps like a log, but I still get my sleepy baby cuddles.

In other, non mommy-stalker news.... (LOL)

Work went pretty good today. We were busy as hell because it's the last day for registration, but I kept my cool and was level-headed. Even when I was the only work study up there and when my boss had to leave for an hour. I got more than a few compliments on how sweet/nice/polite/professional I was when people were leaving the office. I just think about all the times that I've had to go up there and deal with the unprofessional rude jackasses before (not necessarily in my office - there are other offices around there that I hate going to specifically), and I don't want people walking out of there with a bad taste in their mouths.

So, yeah. Work is going pretty good. It's kind of stressful, but I think I take a lot of that stress onto myself. I only have to work 25 hours a week, but I've already put in more than 80 in the 2 weeks and 1 day that I've been there.

I really enjoy working again, if I want to be completely honest. I don't like the feeling of having nothing to do. And even with all the schoolwork I know I'm going to have, I know that if I need the time off to study, I can take it. I know that if things get too crazy around the house (read: I slack off so much on the housework that it looks like a tornado hit the interior), I can take a day off and clean.

But right now, I don't have to. I'm stacking up hours so that I can take 2 days off during September when PK takes me to New York and still get paid for them. Not to mention the 3 days we'll have off for Thanksgiving, and the nearly 2 weeks we'll have off for Christmas. WOO!

It's late and I'm getting tired. Well, I guess I should say MORE tired, because I've been tired since before I got home. I had every intention of making dinner and going to bed tonight. But the food I made was good, and then PK wanted to watch Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen (he fell asleep on the couch about 20 minutes before the end of it). Now, it's getting ready to storm and I'm getting ready to go listen to it.

Good night all. Sweet dreams and all that stuff.

0005. it messed me up, need a second to breathe

iTunes: Adam Lambert - What do you want from me
Mood: LIVID

I took Monkey for shots today. The county clinic (which was free) didn't have Varicella. While they did inform me they were out of it, they failed to inform me that she had to have the shot the same day as the rest of her shots, or she'd have to wait 30 goddamned days to get the Varicella - which she has to have for school, or they absolutely will NOT allow her to enroll in school. I called 15 motherfucking doctors and clinics trying to find someone who would give her the shot.

If they had the shot, they weren't accepting anyone else for the day. If they were accepting people, they didn't have the shot. And she HAD to have the shot today because it's a live virus, and so is the MMR shot she got today. If she were to get the Varicella tomorrow (or even next week, when the clinic said they'd get the Varicella shot in again), there's a huge chance of a bad reaction.

Thanks for fucking telling me that she had to have the shot today and making sure the other free motherfucking clinic just down the street is a) open and b) has the goddamned shot. Oh wait, THEY DIDN'T!


I'm calm now. Sort of. Really bad headache because of all the stressing. I cried when she got the shots (all 4 of them), I cried when I couldn't find the 4th shot, and I cried when I had to ask PK for $169 to cover the fucking shot that we should've gotten for fucking free. GODDAMNIT! I'm not calm. I'm fucking LIVID.

When I brought Monkey up to the shop to get PK's credit card so he could pay the outrageous fee for the shot (I fucking hate not having insurance - and that's a whole other post in & of itself), she crawled into his lap and cried about how "Mommy let them poke [her]. [She doesn't] like pokies." Then she begged him not to make her get anymore pokies. Begged. With tears in her eyes and everything! We talked for a few minutes and tried to find a closer (and cheaper) clinic, and she fell asleep in his lap. When it was time for me to take her from him, she woke up and cried because mommy the meanie was trying to take her from daddy.

That NEVER happens. Monkey goes to me first before anyone else. Including the grandparents who spoil the shit out of her. So for her to cling to PK over me when I was just trying to take care of her and get her everything she needs in order to go to school, it shattered my heart.

I don't ever want to have to do that again.