Sunday, January 27, 2013

Recently, I started working for an agency that provides mental health services to disadvantaged youth. The work is demanding, stressful, and it provides little compensation for one’s hard work. I noticed that my own moods have become more unpredictable and my carpel tunnel has been flaring up causing me pain and procrastination. Well, little Marty hasn’t taken my newfound career aspirations with the enthusiasm that I would like. In fact, it is really messing with his morning ritual and daily routines. Dealing my little guy lately has been difficult. The stress has made me bitchy at times; I am ready to throw in the towel.
Marty: I don’t know why you’re doing this but you need to stop!
Me: Stop what?
Marty: Yelling at me.
Marty, you win. I will make it my duty to stop and think when I am triggered to yell. In return, can I please get a break on the morning ritual that makes us late, or the Thomas the train obsession that takes over the second floor of the house? Perhaps you can lighten up on the persistent questioning? Or, the insistence that I use formal words like, “Yes.” instead of slang? Yeah?
Marty won’t be changing anytime soon. I’ve grown to love his quirks and differences even when they 'pop up' during the worst possible times. He’s my baby, and I love him and Thomas and whatever else he will someday obsess over. The featured picture is of the track that Marty brought in my room against my will. He's either really stressed out [and the arrangement of the train soothes him in some way], or he thought that I would actually enjoy stepping over a dozen smiling toy trains on my way to the bathroom at 3 a.m.
 
 

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