Given the family events going on recently, you would have thought I’d have blogged but the truth is that I really didn’t want to. I didn’t want to put into words the confusion I was feeling, the happiness mixed with sadness is an odd sensation when it comes. I feel disloyal. Anyway, the feelings were short lived and I muddled through but suffice to say Bear’s birthday wasn’t the joyful occasion it ‘should’ have been. I wrote this the day before his birthday.
Tomorrow Bear turns 7. Today I hate CP, GDD, PDA, anixety and control. And then I hate that I hate it. I should be grateful I guess that this is one of very few moments that I hate it but today I really, really hate it. I hate that Jack is beside himself. I hate the screaming and crying, the panic, the fear. I hate that these things suck the joy out of special times for him. I hate watching him break his heart, unable to understand. I modify, I ask Jack how he wants to do his day, I let him see what I’ve bought (from a list he’s already given me) a week in advance so that I can change it all if it doesn’t meet his approval, he picks the type of cake he wants me to make, the filling, the icing, the decorations. He micro manages every aspect. I hate that balloons have to be bought and kept in the packing because he doesn’t actually want them blown up. He wants it but he fiercely does not want it. Confusing for me and hell for him. Not because he hates a balloon, because he doesn’t. It’s just because its a big, scary acknowledgement that oh look, heres a birthday. Here’s change. It’s like a slap in the face for him, here’s normal life and I don’t fit. And days like today it sucks.
Next year maybe we won’t have a Birthday, we’ll just have another normal day with a nice quiet lunch and a visit to a toy shop. And cake. Always cake and love.