Child Polar

(Somehow this turned into a long winded rant, feel free to disregard, it’s just spewage.)

Yesterday was a much needed breather from people and dish. Which is weird because I barely saw anyone Sunday but I am just that easily overloaded. I stayed home, watched Weeds some more, actually cleaned part of my crumbling bathroom floor but only because I needed to move the towel rack so I could fix the chain on the decrepit toilet. Now there’s a hole in the floor that is going to give out and introduce our feet to the dirt beneath.
I still remember when the donor was about and all his whining: “I work a job that barely supports me, let alone my kid, I live in a place that’s falling apart so I spend all my time fixing things…”

Oh, fucking call a whaambulance, bitch.

Toilet broke, I fix it. Floor falling in? I get a piece of wood to reinforce it and put a rug over it. I don’t sit around whining like a little bitch about it. Because I have far better things to whine like a bitch about. And frankly, three bedrooms, two full baths, water and trash included for $375 a month, I’m thankful to have my little shithole. I saw places out in Hollywood that were one room and you shared a bathroom with ten others on that floor and it was over a grand a month.

I think the donor was just a spoiled little bitch boy.

Yes, of all the things I could still hold a grudge over, his whining is the winner. That and him bragging out a 187 IQ yet after he left, I changed batteries in the smoke alarms and turns out, the one by the back room I had him take care of…He’d put double AA batteries where a 9volt was called for. Because it didn’t have the little thingie 9 volts hook up to (shit breaks) so hey, let’s stuff the wrong batteries in then be all arrogant about how we did one little chore.

Ya know, I don’t even know why I am on about this. I don’t even think of him much and generally not at all unless my kid brings it up or my idiot father has to fill me in the on the latest donor siting or gossip. Which I wish he’d stop doing because gossip from a man pushing 70 is just asinine.

I think it was precipitated yesterday by my kid declaring, “Mommy, you need a man. To have sex with.”

Considering I have few friends, fewer I actually let in the door for conversation, it’s obvious she’s hearing this stuff from the shows/videos I watch when she’s SUPPOSED to be sleeping. Bloody hell. I thought one night at midnight it’d be safe to do this playlist and it had Gnarl’s Barkley’s “Cos I got high” on it…Oh my snowflake was still awake hovering in her room until she burst out and started singing along and declaring I LOVE THIS SONG.

Fuck. Mom of the year I guess I am not.

So now my kid knows songs about getting high (which I don’t do cos it really makes me stupid but stoner humor is kinda funny) and is telling me I need a sex life. Yay.

Last week, though, she was telling me I needed a boyfriend so she could have a dad that lives with us and will play with her. And even without my coaching she specifically said “NOT (insert donor’s name here)”.

If he ever does become interested in seeing her, he’s going to think I turned her against him. Which I’ve purposed tried not to do. I gave her a picture of her “dad”. I tell her things about him, like where he was born, etc etc, her half siblings…But she hears the adults refer to him as (given name) and now that’s how she sees him. Road to hell was paved with good intentions.

But yeah, damn. My kid is telling me I need to get a sex life. What the actual fuck. Of course, I can’t blame myself entirely because last summer one of neighbor girls took her out behind the shed and told her they should have sex. Which Spook ran and reported to me and I was flabbergasted because that girl was four years old. Jebus.

These are the kids being raised by parents who don’t want them playing at my house with my kid because (I hear she’s a lesbian) (She wears black and worships satan) (her house is filthy) (her kid has lice). Seriously? Most of my neighbors are the dregs of society raising the next gen of nasty little bullies.

I was, however, impressed with one dad and kid last night. The boy has been playing with Spook and yesterday he spazzed out and punched her in the eye then ran off. I was out yelling like a crazy woman as my kid screamed bloody murder. “Who the fuck raises a kid to punch a girl????” I was pissed and didn’t even know what unit number the family was in so I could go rage. I was furious and I stewed and she bawled.

And then came a knock on the door. The little boy, with his father. And at first, I thought it was going to be a repeat where their kids get to be thugs and me standing up for my kid made me the bitchbeast they were gonna beat down (it’s happened a few times.) Instead, I ask the boy, “You the one that punched my daughter?” And he said yeah. And his dad said, “Now you apologize to that little girl, you know better than this and you are still in trouble with me.”

Later, the boy came back with a big bag of Haribou gummi bears for Spook. Wow, I don’t even spring for the brand name shit. (I ate all the pineapple bears cos those are the only ones I like and yes, I took candy from my baby, don’t judge me.)

It was just nice, for a change, to find a parent in this godforsaken hood, who’s not okay with their kid being a feral little fuck. The dad was apologetic, obviously embarrassed, and had the decency to come to our door and make the kid apologize. It was…different. And also good because Spook was excited to have a new friend and I was happy for her so I hope they can get along. Seems her friend C is in his “girls are icky” phase and some others kids were teasing him that Spook is his girlfriend and he just freaked out and hit her. (I remember being a weird little kid, too.) Just nice that a parent held their kid accountable. Couple years back one of the devil girls was stealing my mail and I sent the cops to their door and the parents didn’t even apologize or return my mail.

Not everyone sucks. I guess.

Though my kid pulled her own stunt with me. One minute she was telling me I am gorgeous, best mom  ever…Then I watch some Weird Al videos and “Fat” comes up and she says, “Look, mommy, they look like you!”

Um…I think not. I am not that big. Rude. Then came the worst mother ever stuff. Followed by love love love.

And I started thinking…what if this isn’t fickle childhood? What if she’s already showing little blips of bipolar? The bouncing off walls happy, the sudden tears, the rages where she takes swings at me…I don’t want to label her and maybe I am transferring or some shit but…Child polar. It’s something I need to watch out for considering mental illness runs on both sides of the family and even the donor spent time in a psych ward following a suicide attempt. Of course, others would see it, too, right? Rarely does she act that way for others, or at least, not that I am told. Because they just see it as normal kid hijinks?

I just know had my parents been paying more attention rather than dismissive I might not have spent so long getting diagnosed, then getting correctly diagnosed.


Ughhh. R is texting me again.

He did the thing again last night, sent me a text, then never replied to my two returns texts. Seriously thinking he needs to fuck off. I’m up to my 20mg Latuda now, so I can claim insanity due to med change. Oh, wait, he expects me to be at his beck and call even when gushing blood and leaking gray matter. Idget.

I did call the shrink office yesterday and told them the Latuda at night is keeping me awake. They said to take it during the day, with food if it made me sick, and I said, well, someone told me it has to be with 300 calories min. or it won’t absorb…And they all acted like I was insane. WTF. If the doctors don’t even agree on the right way to take the shit for more effectiveness, how do the patients stand a chance?

Clown shoes.

I took the Latuda around six last night and I was asleep before 11. But I woke up four or five times during the night. The doctor seems to think as long as I can go back to sleep, it’s no big deal. Four years of it? It’s irritating and exhausting as fuck. Why for the love of pegacorns can they not create a sleeping pill that doesn’t give you comas and hangovers and shuffling zombie aftermaths?

Child polar. Is it possible she’s picking up the mood swings from me? I worry about this shit. And I worry more when I tell the doctor about the family history and they just blow it off. I don’t want to label my kid. But I am starting to freak out because her behavior reminds me of the mood cycles.

Then  again, most of the time it’s just five year old no filters rude honesty or being told the word no.

I dunno. Parenting for dummies didn’t help at all.

I guess I need parenting for less than dummies.





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