I’m not even going to pretend that today was a day where I was anywhere close to the parent I want to be.
I’m not going to pretend that I’m not parenting through the pain.
We just ended bedtime badly. A shitty end to a pretty shitty day. Days like this make me wonder why I ever wanted to be a parent, why I ever thought I would be any good at it. I can barely fucking take care of myself some days, and even on those days I have to pull it together and deal with what they need from me.
I’m raw. I’m on edge. And I can’t thing of a single goddamn thing that will make any of it any better.