I’m a seriously grouchy person. Why? I have no idea. Just everything. I’m simply exhausted and I feel like this makes me simply angry.
I’ve worked an insane amount the last 3 weeks. The tips are great but I know better. I know that at the end of a 3 week run I’m always over it. At least my bills are 150% paid and I’ll have saved a couple thousand this month. Was it worth it? Ummm, yeah.
Cleaning this dirty house is what sets me over the edge. I’ve had one day off a week at the most and clean every day. Finally get the weekend off and it’s filthy. Max doesn’t do shit. He watches M and they just trash the house together. So I spent the majority of the day scrubbing. He eventually, when I’m done, says he hasn’t been pulling his weight and needs to clean for 30 minutes every day. Really? 30? Whatever. I shouldn’t be doing dishes every day when I haven’t ate here in days. If I cook I load the dishwasher and start it when I’m finished. Yet, he just leaves them all laying everywhere. Today I’m starving but don’t want to clean the kitchen so I’m simply not eating.
My “no contact” is basically ruined and shifted to limited contact. That’s fine as it’s working. If she can continue following boundaries and limited contact I’ll be happy. But without talking to her I was missing out on so much with my kids. It’s just not fair. Her victim card sucks.
So, as I’ll be pleasant I was allowed to see my grandkids while she had them. Of course the only time was while I worked. So the youngest just wants to be on my hip while I’m dealing with tables. Whatever. My tables are interested as I don’t share much of my personal life and all ask if he’s mine. I explain he’s my grandson. All are amazed as I don’t look that old. I’m not. Our friendly banter continues as I run my ass off with a fat human attached to me. Every. Single. Time. a table would say I didn’t look old enough she’d pipe up from where she was. No matter how far away – “And I don’t look old enough to be a great grandma do I!” Lady. Nobody cared. This went on the whole night and time they were there. It’s comical but a prime example of how SHE needs to be in the spotlight. I was more than happy to see her leave.
My bosses from BOTH my jobs are retiring in March. What the hell? With the state I have no idea what will happen. Well, my jobs fine but I’m curious – If my supervisor takes the boss’s job who gets the supervisor position? Would I apply? Originally, I’d of told you hell no. Now that I’ve saw the pay increase – maybe? I could use more of a challenge.
With the restaurant – they’ve got new managers to run it. They’re nice. I was terrified they’d find their friends to work and I’d be screwed as I really have come to rely on that income. During the meeting she quietly asked if I’d be willing to stay. Ummm are you willing to keep me and my limited availability due to a full-time job? Of course! They were worried I only worked there as my friends ran it. Well, kinda, but I like the money and if you leave my hours alone I’ll appear for them. So, that’s fine I think. I’m still slightly paranoid but we will see how it goes. They really are great people. I just hate change.
We’ve still got M. 5 months now. A few hours turned into 5 months. I’m really in no hurry to see him leave. Mom isn’t ready. Dad isn’t capable. I have no idea how mom will even do it. I’m lucky. I have a ton of support when things come up. She doesn’t. How will she manage work and a child that gets sick often, needs appointments, etc? I had a brief moment of thinking I should just offer her an open adoption so he can get all he needs. But I know that isn’t how it works. I also know I don’t think I truly want to adopt him. So, I’ll just keep hoping she gets it together and doesn’t cause unneeded harm to him when he goes home.
More of his trauma is coming out – This week he decided you get meals from the garbage. Literal garbage scavenging at daycare. Like it was normal. I doubt it’s not the first time in his life. This just shows why he’s got the unhealthy connection to food he does. Physical violence has begun to appear when he’s mad. Another sign of what he’s witnessed. Which we already knew. He’s just finally comfortable enough to show it I guess. These moments are what frustrate me when I think of him going home. He deserves the world. He needs so much help. He does not deserve to ever be exposed to this again. Ugh.
I’m only licensed for him currently. But my worker was beating around the bush about two girls needing to be moved. She didn’t come right out and ask. I didn’t come right out and offer. I’m just not set up for more right now. Really, I need to wait another year until Alex gets off campus housing before I snag his room and change it into a foster room. And one child with this many needs is sufficient today. Though, I will always wish I could save them all. Thankfully I know my limits. Kind of. (My therapist knows my limits and kindly reminds me.)
Thats about it. Now I need to rinse conditioner out of my hair. Go to bed. And hope I wake up happier in the morning. I don’t want Monday to come. At all. I need far more days off.