Having your seven year old son on an aggressive streak, pinching his brother, his mom and dad, his teachers and YOU if you get too close.
Having to punish above-mentioned seven year old, because it breaks your heart and because he has autism. Yep. Playing the autism card.
Wondering if your husband’s new job will have a decent healthcare plan put in place. New company. New Fears.
Waking up an hour later than you’re supposed to.
Seeing the scale climb up instead of go down.
Saying NO to the cupcakes at work, then coming home and eating your weight in taco salad.
Picking a fight over nothing with your husband.
Having to apologize for it.
A broken coffee maker.
Spilling what little coffee you could get said broken coffee maker to make all over your dining table.
Having a bad dream.
Catching the common cold.
Not knowing if your seven year old is sick, or hurting, or sad, because he can’t tell you.
Feeling guilty that you maybe aren’t doing enough for him.
Have I depressed you enough for one day?
Thanks for letting me get that out.