...have sucked!! Just ass kicking in every conceivable way.
Yesterday was going along swimmingly. I was in a great mood. Called my husband to see when he'd like to meet to take Chris to his therapist appointment. The rant began...He wasn't yelling at me, just to me. I tell you, it was like being hit by a truck! So we figured out what the problem was, I gave suggestions. He seemed comforted. OK. Breathe...
Get to the school, pick up said child, no husband. He's running late, and irritated about it.
Get to the therapist's office. Chris goes in, meets with his talking doctor, and his boss. Then it's our turn. They say well, maybe he has a learning disability, and maybe that is why he a: hates school, b: failed math. A WHAT?!??! While my husband and I have both heard throughout our academic careers "he/she doesn't perform up to his/her potential," it never occurred to me that he could have a learning problem. For me it was a motivational issue, and I thought that is what it was for Chris. So they will perform some testing through the summer. Oh, and he's depressed. So THIS is what getting hit by a truck feels like. Got it.
We're home now. It's late. In the mail are two birthday cards--one for Chris and one for me...from my father's widow. Wasn't expecting THAT. A momentary wave of grief..."mom, what's the matter? Don't cry." Sorry, honey, just miss my dad. "oh, I'm sorry, mom."
My husband's sister called. She wanted to catch up, and wish us a happy birthday (Chris was born on my 30th birthday :)) Turns out she just had a miscarriage a week ago.
Any body get the number of the damned convoy that just ground me into the pavement? That bottle of Petite Syrah is going down...right after Christopher's ballgame.