daysleeper's Blog
Not sure what to do.
SD is five. She will be six in April. BM continues to send her over to our house with dirty shirts, shirts that she has worn and sweated in and then taken off, so that SD can sleep in them/cuddle them/wear them.
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Short rant because I have no time; expletive heavy
So angry that I'm sick. MOTY called SD5, while we are in ENGLAND, on holiday, to tell her that their fucking pet bird died. Who the shit does that to her DAUGHTER on HOLIDAY?!?! I have nothing else to even say right now.
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Petty? Totally. Satisfying? Without a doubt.
SD5 basically had the run of this entire house when I got here. A bit at a time, I've been teaching about disciplining and setting boundaries, to both her and SO.
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Grow a pair.
Last night, SD wouldn't get to sleep because the painting in the room outside of hers was scaring her. She wouldn't close her bedroom door, of course, so that she wouldn't see it. So I had to fix the painting for her so it wasn't scary. Then this morning at around 4 AM, she woke up whining "DADDYYYYY" because she had a nightmare. Keep in mind that neither SO or I had gotten into bed until around 3 AM because SO was at work, and I was doing laundry while I had a hot second while she was sleeping.
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Today's happenings
It isn't even 3 PM yet... the real nightmare, I'm sure, will come when SO goes off to work and I'm left alone to babysit SD.
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Unsung heroes.
I was talking to a friend about how I don't want to go on this trip to England that SO is making me go on in March with SD. I feel like I already typed out a lot of my feelings once, so I'll just copy and paste it here:
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I'm so happy!
After SD showed up yesterday in her pajamas from school, I ranted to SO about how lazy BM is, and he agreed, and said that the only thing that he could do was make sure that she didn't dress that way when she left our house.
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My musings. This is really long.
I don't like kids.
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Children are why we can't have nice things.
This is a quick rant, because I'm on my phone and I'm PISSED. Not only am I stuck babysitting my skid. Alone. On New YEAR'S Eve while SO "works" a karaoke show, but I woke up this mor ing to discover that the little shit had broken one of my antique bowls that had been put away. And what does SO say? "It got broken." "How did it get broken?" "SD was making breakfast, and it broke." That is the most passive language I have ever heard. Fine. SD broke my bowl. SD is a kid. Shit happens. But how dare SO use such passive language and try to protect ickle SD?
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NO consideration for me!
Ugh, stupid SO. He volunteered my company at a friend's house for dinner without even asking me. Now, instead of a quiet dinner at home, I'm stuck listening to TWO screaming kids (his friend has a two year old) and my SO is of course having a blast while I sit here awkwardly. ARGH.
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