Stuff

This lady is dealing with a child who sounds a lot like Max. She's posted about this daughter of hers before, but this post really resonated with me.

Sometimes I have trouble bringing up her blog, just to warn you. She has 10 kids and this one daughter is effecting her in similar ways to how Max effects me. If nothing else, it makes me feel like I'm not crazy.

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Anthony and I took Max to a Blazer's basketball game last night. We had a good time. Not every minute with Max is bad. Just enough of them.

Davan stayed home with her friend, Emily. Just so you know, Emily is a 20 year old friend, not a 10 year old like Davan friend. She didn't care to go to the basketball game.

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My father in law was over for dinner last night. I'm thinking about saying he can't come over anymore. I know that's awful and he's a good man, for the most part. He really wants to be involved in his son's life.

However. He is constantly interfering with my parenting of Max. Last night, I decided I needed to say something. Max was throwing a fit over cleaning off the counter in the bathroom where he'd smeared hair lotion. FIL went to comfort him. AHRG!!!! I let it go a bit, but then, finally, it had gone on too long. I went in there, got Max back on track and then told FIL with a hand on his arm, "Now we need to just let Max be unhappy without an audience," and turned to guide him out. He stayed!!!! What is he thinking he is doing!?!?!?! And he offered more words of concern. Max knows what the hell to do and the more he acts up and gets positive attention from grandpa, the more rewarding it is to cry.

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It is yet another busy day and I should be making dinner now (even though it's not quite noon) because I have to have it made before we go swimming today so that I can pack some for Davan to take to her friend Zoe's house this evening. After swimming, Davan goes home with Zoe for the afternoon while I take Max to therapy. Then Max and I will come home and just have time to eat our pre-prepared meal before I take him to flag football. They want parent volunteers this evening. We're supposed to go in running shoes and shorts. Given the weather, I think I'll make it sweats, but, hey, I guess I'm a wuss.

Zoe's mom is taking Davan to gymnastics at 6:15. Have I mentioned that Stephanie is a saint? She's the one who is picking Max up for me on Wednesdays, as well, while Davan and I are swimming.

Then I need to bring Max home to Anthony (who is going to be at work late and, thus, not home before 7:00) before going off to catch the last of Davan's gymnastics class.

I'm PMSy and feeling like I'd really just like to laze about all day. Of course, the PMSy thing has something to do with my miserableness about the whole adoption situation, too, but don't let that fool you into thinking there isn't really an issue there.