Asbestos, Tampons, and Intensity: A Mother’s Daily Journey

It’s always hard to jump back into blogging after a busy spell because there’s so much I want to write, I don’t know where to start. So I’m just going to go for it and summarize all of the things in a sort of update style listicle of all the things that are making me feel like I might actually implode soon. Shall we?

• We are remodeling our kitchen and taking out a load-bearing wall. Last night, after the crew left, we noticed what looked like asbestos tiles that were cut into. We had to emergency evacuate to a hotel and are now waiting for the contractor to tell us WTF. Where does one find a hazmat suit? Also, Doterra fans (me) just a reminder that all things “natural” are not “safe.”
• My little one started preschool and it’s been an absolute shit-show. According to the behavioralist at the school who is working with him, “everything he’s doing is age appropriate, the challenge is just his intensity level.” I have no idea where he could have inherited intensity from. Definitely not his mother who started a non-profit at age nine and wouldn’t leave the mayor alone in my city because the environment needs to be saved! It’s been disheartenting though. And heartbreaking. He was so excited for school and it has just been a giant source of stress for him that has led to a ton of acting out at home, too (there’s a lot happening, and it’s after a pandemic year. I get it.).
• My dad told me this week that I am a terrible mother and my son is going to grow up and hate me because I am “too suffocating and annoying.” This is based off of the fact that I will not leave my kid with my father. Because I grew up with my father and know that an ER visit will happen seven seconds after being with him. The last time we were at his house (knowing his grandkids were coming over) he left out: Three saws, a pick ax, a full jug of roundup with a trigger that was not childproof, and had a 400 pound buck wandering the yard. He let my 2 yo outside without supervision. Even though I don’t logically believe my dad, I still bawled for hours after I finally got my kiddo to sleep that night because nobody wants to be told that their baby is going to hate them.
• My husband has become an absolute shithead workaholic and while I love him tons I honestly cannot handle his bullshit for that much longer (if you’re reading this, F, I AM NOT JOKING). No, I don’t care if he sees this. I text it to him daily. If your partner is a workaholic, I see you. And I’m sorry. It is very hard.
• My toddler took water from the toilet and filled up all of his cooking appliances in his play kitchen last week. That was gross. I was cleaning so it took me a minute to be like, wait, where is that water coming from? I didn’t hear you turn on the faucet…OH GOD.
• My toddler took fruit and hid it in a corner to “feed all of the bugs” last night. It worked. Our hotel room was full of ants this morning.
• I am doing NANOWRIMO this year, and you should too! Please put your handle in the comments below and I will follow you and we will do it together! I am finishing another round of edits on a vampire novel I’ve been working on. Next week, I send it off to a developmental editor and then hop back to my historical fiction book.
• I took a work contract for a company and have no time because my little can only go to school for one hour per day due to his general “intensity.” This morning I edited campaign copy while peeing and brushing my teeth. I missed a typo.
• I started my period while driving my son to school but am so rushed and busy that I couldn’t stop anywhere. Lowkey inserted a tampon at a stoplight. Was a very proud and not proud moment.
• My little has become the worlds most adorably annoying backseat driver and screams “STOP PLEASE!” every time I approach a stop sign. It scares the shit out of me every single time.
• My anxiety has been very bad since I became a mom and worse after Covid hit. CBD is helping but I am still very nervous every time I have to leave the house. I hate it.

That is all. Now you go. How are you, friends?