a little lost

Kid #1 is a mess.  A mess of anger, resentment, anxiety and the kinds of behaviours that go with all of these things.  And it's not that I don't understand, fully, where these feelings and actions are coming from.   His family is altogether changed and his entire foundation is shifting underneath of him.  He has little control over this, and is trying to exert some at home.  It makes all kinds of good sense.  But the fact that it makes perfect sense, this out of control-ness and wild emoting, does not make it an easier to navigate.  And I am lost.  There is no map for this.  We talk about feelings.  We talk about the separation and its effects.  We have elicited the assistance of a child psychologist.  And still, here I am, stuck in the middle of the muck of it, and feeling helpless.

Yesterday, the bathroom was flooded, the shower was broken (and the important fixture piece thrown down the sink drain) and the shower curtain was ripped out of the wall, rod and all.  How to describe my reaction?  On four hours of sleep (in a long series of nights without sleep), and days on end of this kind of stuff, I hit my breaking point.  In short, I lost my shit.  I screamed.  I yelled.  I cried.  Yup.  Not so pretty.  (Have I mentioned that there is no road map for this stuff?)

Later on in the day, after asking the same child to get in his car seat several hundred times, and attempting to put said child into his carseat, to no avail, I burst out with: "Will you just get the fuck in the car?!"  Yes.  Really.  Classy, mom.  Really classy.  Throw another hundred bucks into the therapy fund, how bout...

I am so depleted right now.  Just weary.  I have no job.  I have no daycare.  No place to live.  Because I need a job to secure daycare and a place to live.  And when and if I do secure a job, it could take a zillion years to actually secure said daycare.  I didn't even know if I would be able to go to my job interview today because I couldn't secure childcare until the 11th hour.  The house is in shambles.  And being the cute helpless femme (note somewhat derisive and highly caustic tone here) - I have no effing idea how to do things like fix shower curtain rods or a hot clue what to even look for in Home Depot to make the shower work again.  Independent, me.  Real independent.  None of my money is actually, you know, mine.  (Yes, yes, I'm a good feminist and all that shit.  I know it's mine, too.  It just doesn't feel like mine.)   I got accepted into my Phd program for the fall.  With funding.  And I should be so bloody excited.  But all I feel is tired.  And full of doubt.  If I can't even manage to keep my house clean, look for jobs, find daycares and housing - how can I possibly hope to manage the rigours of Phd work and kids and a household?   A mystery, that.

I guess I'm feeling fresh out of resources.

And trying so hard to trust the big ol' Universe on this one.

(Some days, this feels easier than others.)