The black dog has caught up to me again, even walks at the dog park are not chasing it away. I can feel it on my face, just under my eyes and I want to cry a lot. I miss my children, not my son so much, although I do wish he could get his shit together. My daughter's memory is getting worse and she's using a cane to get around. I'll get a hug from Miss Katie today which will help.
It's that time of year. The long, dark nights get to me. I worry about my middle daughter and her health. I worry about Jack. Kindergarten registration starts in less than two months and I know it will be a fight and a shitshow with his mother when I register him for kindergarten here and not in Edmonton. She doesn't have a job and there is no way she can get to Jack to school on a regular basis but none of that will matter to her because it's only about her.
Last night Jack stayed with his other grandma for the night, hubby and I went out for supper. I started thinking about our lives before Jack was born. We used to have fun. We used to travel. We had a life. Now we have a 4.5 year old to care for, which I'm happy to do, but the other side of the family don't seem to understand that we had a life. I'm resentful I guess.
And sad. I'm not a fan of Christmas. It makes me sad because it never lives up to the hype, does not meet expectations.
Jack is back this afternoon. Perhaps I'll take him to the dog park with me. It is beautiful and as you can see, we've finally had snow.