Having children is like having a constant emotional psychotic breakdown.

Something has occurred to me recently, it seems that I often act pregnant, even though I am not pregnant. There was a point recently where is was a bit touch and go on that, but now I know for sure that I am just out of my ever-loving mind. I blame my children for this rollercoaster of hormonal craziness. To be perfectly honest, I have had issues with weirdly diverse emotions that can be set off fairly easily. Sometimes I can be quite cold to people and can often not express myself. When my ex used to want to sit and have a heart to heart, all I wanted to do was make a Roger Rabbit shaped hole in the wall.

I do feel things though, I just happen to vent them often in a negative way. My easiest way of being is malicious and evil. If I am genuine and warm with you, you are one of the very few. It is this problem that often makes me worry for my children. I hope they don’t turn into an overly sensitive wimp like my ex-husband but I don’t want them to turn out like me either. It would be awesome if they could just be well-adjusted, but that is asking a lot.

Recently I have noticed that my interaction with my children has really has been a game of hot and cold. There are times when I am so irritated with them, I just scream into walls, stuffed animals, pillows, my dog, really anything that can muffle the angry explosiveness of my voice. The weirdest wasn’t even the dog, it was a loaf of bread. There are other times when I just watch them in awe and actually start tearing up because I cannot believe how lucky I am that these two perfect human beings let me hang out with them.

My 2-year-old son greets me in the morning, “Good morning, it’s nice to see you.”, I have no idea where most of his “bits” come from. When I come home from work he says “Monkey! Hi Monkey, I missed you.” (My son calls me this because my ex and I always referred to each other as monkey, as a pet name of sorts and never really stopped referring to each other as such, my kid isn’t insane).  Meanwhile my daughter, just jumps up and down with a huge smile of her face. These are the moments when I am just so happy to have the life I have. But there are times when I look at my house and want to cry because no matter how much I try to keep it clean, it will end up an unorganized mess is a matter of seconds. It’s like building a house while in sight of a tornado.  It can be mighty frustrating.

Recently I made a decision to move to Seattle in a few months, something that I am eagerly anticipating to be a major and outstanding change.  This is the result of months of agonizing over what my next move will be in life. Perhaps, this will be something that allows me one less thing as fuel to my roller coaster. But my kids remain to be the huge catalyst in that crazy coaster no matter what.  Please tell me that there are other parents that feel this same amount of psychotic when it comes to raising these magnificent little buggers.

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