Fighting off Fatigue

No I’m not. I’m not fighting anything. I’ve had two back to back naps and I still feel like sleeping.

I’ve got my light on again, wondering if that might help. Got my soda, my coffee.

Today I wanted to get a lot of things done. I’ve gotten one thing done. There’s so much laundry to do, it’s insane. I’ve got to clean the kids’ seats before Derek puts them back in the car. There’s a ton of junk in the car (from the Yaris) that I’ve got to get out before, you know, they become permanent fixtures in there.

I just realized I didn’t give the Yaris a proper goodbye. I hate that. Lack of closure. I’m sorry, Yaris.

Since I can’t get vanity plates that just say “RED,” I probably won’t bother. Probably just same old, randomly numbered plates.

I’m glad COVID seems to be winding down (except I heard there’s another variant in China), so we can actually do things on days like this. Go places. Our kids don’t sit through movies, though. We haven’t been to a restaurant in years, but that was no picnic, either. Probably Desmond would do okay, now. He’s almost 9. But I don’t see Aislyn cooperating.

Desmond doesn’t think he’s a good boy and there’s no convincing him otherwise. It breaks my heart. Look what he wanted to do today:

He shared all his cute books about going to kindergarten with her, too. Nobody asked him to, it was his idea.

And Derek’s birthday present: an old school photo album (because Derek loves going through photo albums) with pictures of Desmond and Aislyn and one or two of me because I, believe it or not, hate pictures of myself and avoid the camera.

The photo album itself might’ve actually been my idea, but the pictures were all Desmond. He picked them out, arranged them, added captions. He had wanted to print multiple pics from my phone on our printer onto the same paper, but I didn’t know how to do that effectively and I said I could just have some developed and we could put them in a nice book.

I’ll bet you can have really nice picture collages made for you too, though. Maybe we could do that for his birthday.

I’ve tried to explain to him he’s a good boy who sometimes makes misinformed choices when he’s angry, that everybody makes bad choices sometimes. But for whatever reason, he won’t believe me. And it just kills me to see him suffer.

Aislyn, too, is thoughtful, sensitive, highly empathetic for a child her age, and easily hurt. So it kills me to see her sad, too.

I couldn’t manage to stay awake to play with either of them today, and it’s eating me up inside. I’m missing the best years because of a stupid, rash decision I’m still paying for.

I guess instead of doing this right now, I ought to be with them. Talk later, readers.