After a week of vision therapy, we are supposed to videotape a session. It has been going perfectly fine all week, but tonight, Riley balked. Her routine was off a bit today, and then the camera threw her for a loop. She flipped out. She could not snap out of it.
Then, I flipped out. Big time.
I threw a chair. I hit a wall. In front of my children.
(I did not hit my child).
Her routine was off. It was my fault.
I didn’t talk her down well enough. My patience is gone.
Todd worked 9-9 both days over the weekend, and picked up overtime today to pay for all these f-ing therapies. I have not had a break.
It feels like unless I tiptoe around walking on eggshells, jumping when she says jump and dancing when she says dance, our world falls apart. One little glitch and it’s like dominoes. The whole evening is shot.
This is not unlike my childhood, living with an alcoholic parent.
On the flip side, my rage tonight is not unlike my father's.
I love this girl beyond measure, but I am so tired of the F-ing dance.