We’re now into the deep freeze portion of winter. Time and my schedule being what they have been these last two weeks, I’ve had very little time to do any working out, though I did force myself to do a much-needed hour of yoga tonight. I know how important it is to cross-train as I’m trying to increase my distance in running, but I’m not as good at it as I want to be. But I’m working on it. More strength training, though like I said, not the last week or so, and I need to get back to regular yoga for my peace of mind this time of year, otherwise I will do nothing but eat pizza and drink copious amounts of wine. The full moon tonight likely isn’t helping matters.

D had a snow day yesterday. ANOTHER. I’m going to have to find somewhere to put him during the day if they’re going to close three or four fucking times a month. His father and I have already taken off like 4 days each this year between planned school closures and snow days, and it’s only February 3. Just ONE MORE THING I need to do – research places, visit them, apply, take D on a tour, pay the goddamned annual fee, pay the drop in fee, etc. I’ve been trying to remember to send a letter I need to fax somewhere for three days now. Personal shit sometimes takes so much time, I feel like I need to take a couple of days off just to deal with it, but that’s not happening. The teacher conference night dinners are in a month and I have fucking ZIPPO set up for them. I’m trying. There’s just so many things.

Tonight when I came to pick D up at extended care, I was slightly late, and got there around 5:30 instead of 5. All the kids were sitting around a big table while one of the (sorry) very overweight ladies who runs the program poured cups of pop and juice for the kids and passed around coffee filters holding at least two full cups of Cheetos for each kid. AT FIVE-THIRTY. Seriously, I have enough problems with these people, but I was so close to hitting the ceiling, I just got him out of there as soon as I could. It’s no wonder your goddamned kid won’t eat dinner, people, if they are in extended care, as they fill them up with fucking pop and garbage right before you pick them up. I’ve just had it. D was upset that I was taking him away right at “snack” time and so I said he could put the orange garbage in a baggie and bring it home, and could eat it AFTER he ate his dinner. Which he did.

I have already told him to refuse anything they offer that is a sugary treat, as it’s stuff like “puppy chow, which is like chex mix with marshmallows and chocolate,” but two fucking cups of cheetos for a 5 year old? On the way home, I gave him a choice. I told him he could either say “no thank you” to ALL the food and drink they offer him there, or I could intercede on his behalf, and tell the ladies not to offer him anything else for snack, while I worked on trying to find SOMEBODY who gives a goddamned about what these ladies are putting into the kids, so I can put a stop to it. The head of the program was right there with the other lady, helping her pass out potato chips and cheetos.

I promise I’m really not obsessive, but I just think it’s ridiculous for my little, 38-pound 5 year old boy to eat: a healthy breakfast (that I pack), mid-morning snack (that I pack), a healthy lunch (that I pack), a mid-afternoon snack (that I pack), AND be consuming two cups of cheetos and a pop before he comes home and tries to have dinner. It’s just too much.

He said he would rather I tell them not to give it to him, which of course I understand, and so I will, starting tomorrow when I drop him off. I called his Dad and told him my position and he agreed. But D wanted to know WHY that stuff was bad for you. I tried to liken it to a kid he used to talk about in preschool who was notorious for bringing junk to school for every single meal. I mean like every single day was something like fruit loops in strawberry milk with a side of gummi worms, I’m serious. And so I mentioned that kid and how we talked about how your body doesn’t grow right if you don’t give it the right fuel and blah blah. He still wanted to know more.

So after dinner when he asked for the cheetos, I told him health is about balance. There is a place for a certain amount of junky stuff in your diet but you have to make sure you’re keeping your body strong, and that’s why we eat healthy most of the time, why we exercise, why we had dance party yesterday, for example, which was a pretty vigorous dance party, with lots of partnering and jumping and full body movement.

I have this illustrated medical book I use to talk about different things with him as they relate to things going on. Like when I had sinus surgery, I showed him some related pictures and we talked about it. And when his grandpa had surgery recently, we talked about that. And various other ows and things I’ve had or people in his family have had. So tonight we talked about Diabetes. I suppose that sounds horrible, but he seems to like these lessons. He asked if Ms. Connie (not her real name) had Diabetes and I said she might, and if she doesn’t, she may develop it over time because she clearly doesn’t take care of herself very well, and I don’t think the other ladies who work there do either, they are really very obese. Not just overweight. They’re nice women but they aren’t teachers and they don’t do anything with the kids, and it’s a lot of money to pay for someone to shovel my kid full of junk food. I was so annoyed with those women when we left there, I just wanted to scream at them sitting around that table, “what are you DOING giving kids this kind of garbage EVERY SINGLE DAY?” I mean, do they live under a rock, or what? How do you not know this is bad?

There’s a million other things pressing on me. I have to update my fucking will, in all my spare time. I updated it, and then realized I don’t have anything in there about what I want done with my damned body when it’s all said and done, so now I have to add something in about that and then get it notarized and OMG ONE MORE THING. And the fucking taxes. I finally got my last 1099 and W-2 but I have to do the goddamned taxes and I just don’t have the TIME or the PATIENCE anymore, I really, really do not. And I spent 45 minutes today on the county’s website trying to wade through instructions to DIY my goddamned dissolution and I can’t figure out heads or tails what form is supposed to go where and when and to whom and when do I sign up for the shared parenting class and oh I need a case number first and you can’t get that until you have a hearing date and you can’t get that until the filing but I can’t figure out how much the filing is or how you do it or how many copies you need or or or FUCKING HELL.

Fucking rich people, man, really have it made. Just hand off the fucking papers to an accountant and LET THEM DEAL WITH THE TAXES. Hand off the signed documents to the lawyer and LET THEM FILE EVERYTHING. Call up the restaurant and just ORDER THE FOOD FOR THE DINNER, instead of begging 10 restaurants for donations and asking all the different grades to send shit, I’m just completely overwhelmed.

I realized tonight I have not been on a vacation since 2007. That’s pretty damned sad.

Spring cannot get here soon enough.


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