TGIFE

TGIFE and anxiously awaiting Sunday.

The week was fine until the 5 o'clock hour rang last night. It's been 17.5 hours of torture and counting ever since. Wondering if my baby is okay, wondering why she said what she did, wondering what's happening in her life that I've been blind to. I'm not eating or sleeping well and it's because I'm suffering that kind of heartache only a parent could suffer caused by the mouth of her child. This is why Sunday needs to rapidly approach. I need to see her, I need to talk to her, I need to hug her, I need to understand why and what happened and she needs to understand the repercussions of what she said and why it's not okay.

Until then, I've been doing my best to keep my mind from wandering too far from what's happening in "the now" by keeping overly busy with work, cleaning, laundry, and baking. One wrong dull moment and I could melt down. The kind words of encouragement and sympathy flooding in from every parent I know are all more than helpful in getting me through the weekend. However, when it boils down, I still just want to hug my baby girl and make everything okay again.

It doesn't help that her words sent her father into an angry fit against me. I'm never shocked to see him act like that, but it always surprises me to see him so easily manipulated, especially by a seven year old. If anyone is wrapped around anyone's finger here, it's him around hers and she knows it. Should he choose to believe our seven year old over the adult who birthed her, without having witnessed any wrong doing or having any evidence to his case, then there is something wrong with his thought process. I understand that every parent would like to believe that their child is perfect, but reality is, no one, over age 4, is perfect.

Kids learn how far they can stretch the truth and who will let them get away with it a lot earlier than you would expect. At six years old, E started lying. I'd catch her and she'd have consequences, but I wonder if this happens with her father or if he simply overlooks it and allows her to get away with it. Just this past semester, she lied to her teacher for four months to avoid P.E. Obviously, she's more than capable of making up a story and sticking to it ~ for months at a time. I just worry about her, about our relationship and I question my parenting and my ability to do this crazy job. Which is all normal, I'm sure, I just don't remember signing up for this part.

For my sake, I hope the weekend flies by and life returns to normal by bedtime Sunday night. For your sake, I hope the weekend cruises along like normal bringing a perfect close on Sunday night.