...continued

So let me pick up where I left off. The boy terror comes home from school and he wants to go home with FIL. He needs to do his homework and he has a lot of it. I tell him if he finishes all of it he can go to grandpas house. I clear the table in the kitchen and I start with the math. Its subtraction and he just isnt getting it. So i try to get him to read the math sentence out loud so we can start a new and positive study tactic. He absolutely refuses to say what the math sentence is. 8 - 5 = ? is it so fucking hard to read whats on the paper? I put out my 8 fingers. I tell him to remove the 5 fingers and what does he get? I swear it was like 20 minutes for every problem. Its not that he cant do it, he was just refusing to do the work. Not only that he was fidgeting and playing with anything he can find. I mean it got to the point that he was playing with the air. Sight words were just as bad and spelling was like a miracle. FIL actually had to leave the room because he couldnt handle the stress of watching me struggle with him without blowing up at him. FIL commended me on my patience and admitted that there was no way he could do this everyday.

So after I shoved Jory off with FIL, I tried to doa  few things. Dinnertime comes around and the in-laws come back with the kids and chinese food. Kids didnt want to eat, so who cares. I give up. I am in more pain than I have been in days. I cant sit, barely move and I feel like I would rather just crawl into a hole at this point. Also, remember the laundry is not getting done, the dishes are all piling in the sink and I seem to be the only one that knows how to use the washers, recycling is covering every square inch of my countertop and I am holding my breath to get these things in control before they are completely out of control.

Hubby walks in and barely says a thing to me. He has a headache. In laws are comparing my stress stories from the day to Ryan as if they were war battles and I barely won each one. Ryan barely cleans up after himself and leaves to do whatever he does. Inlaws go home and I am trying to get the evening to run smoothly. I get Jory downstairs to eat and watch a show and all he can do is bitch that I didnt make him the right pancakes. I am trying not to yell or raise my voice because at this point I feel like anything that is going on inside my body is going to burst. I get to yelling and arguing with jory and just trying to walk away and FINALLY ryan comes from upstairs. You know, when the pain is skyrocketted and Jory is hard to come off of his focus. So now Jory is sitting in the den crying, not eating. I am hunched over in pain and Ryan just goes back downstairs.

My dad calls and Mira is following me around. I am in the laundry room (full cat litter boxes, too). Mira insists that I make her some noodles that she loves ad I tell her I will make it tomorrow for dinner. She continues like the 3 year old she is and wants it. I said no and started to walk out of the room. She says that she is going to go get it. My dad is listening to this and then HE has the nerve to say to me 'You have to stand your ground' and whatever else he feels is appropriate for a grandfather that barely knows my children and their dynamics should say. I had hd it at this point. I started to scream at my father and told him that he he is sounding like his girlfriend (who thinks she is the queen of all parenting and tells me ALL the things i am doing wrong with my children and that they behave the way they do because I LET them be that way) Dad defends himself and says 'no im not. I am just saying that you cant let her control you...' or whatever he was trying to say.  I lost it. Screamed/stated that i dont care if she is getting the box of noodles, i am not making it. She can walk around with it all day and i am still making it TOMORROW. Finally he just says he is going to go and talk to me later. Fine.

I tell Ryan he needs to go to the supermarket so he asks if he can go now. Now? the kids have to fucking get to bed. He then tells me to make the kids cups and medicines and so on. Jory goes first and i tell him to take his clothes off and get his sleeping underwear on. No response. I start yelling and what is my husband doing? sitting on our bed listening to me yell. So when its too late once again, ryan storms in the room, kicks the tower that jory was making (and wasnt listening to me because of) and set jory in a screaming fit. Well, thanks. Now i have to mend this situation, too.

Finally Jory is ready for bed, hysterical and Mira wants to go to sleep. Now I have to leave Jory with Ryan and ry is just yelling at Jory about listeniung and that I dont feel well etc etc. Mira becomes impossible to get into bed, then the hubby decides he wanted to go to the market because he was getting too tired. He leaves and the kids dont stay in bed. OMG, it was the most stressful thing I have ever had to deal with in weeks.

After Ryan gets home, he leaves the bags for me to unpack. We go to the basement to work on HIS work schedule and he is questioning everything. I told him that I will take Jory to the bus while he drives him daughter to school. He will have to block out 45 minutes. He has to pick her up at a different time because she has an extention, in a different room. Well, thats a problem. Ill get jory from the bus. Ill do his homework with him. God knows I dont want my husband near my son. Then on wednesday i have a checkup with the doc and the times are just comepletely inconvenient for him. I can just go on and on and on.

I was told 2 weeks. I will feel better in 2 weeks. 5 days after my surgery I am left to fend for myself. I am in total pain and I cant handle the kids on my own. Not MY kids. I cant stop crying and feeling like I am never going to get out of this horrible nightmare I am in.

Today, Ryan just seems like he is upset/angry with me because i slept, with main meds this morning. My belly feels better for now and i want to keep it that way. This is the only reason why I feel like what I did was a mistake.