Failure Rate

Parenting a special needs child is hard (LOL). I have decided that there is a really high failure rate involved in my parenting. As in, I'm really just failing.

I  know some of you will read this and say I'm not. Or, feel compelled to say that. And, some of you will wholeheartedly agree.

I tried to explain my frustration to my husband (I was screaming, so I doubt he heard what I was saying). How would he feel if he showed up at work and everyone there was annoyed with him? EVERYONE!!! How would he feel if all he ever got was constant criticism? Every single review is a bad review. How would he feel if he tried new and different things and still everyone there was annoyed with him? STILL!!! How would he feel if from the very second he got to the office people started yelling at him? And, worst of all, how would he feel if he got home from work and he was met with the same things? It is a fucked up not funny version of Groundhog's Day. Only, I am 100% sure I will never ever figure out what it is I'm doing so damned wrong.

I'm tired. The failure spills over onto everything. It is pretty toxic. Today was awful. I got up to screaming defiance. I'm sure I'll go to bed hearing it. I don't know. I didn't try all that hard today, either. That comes when all you feel is that you are never right no matter what you do. According to your three employers.

On Mother's Day I was talking to my grandparents and lying about how they're doing. Smiling. Nodding. My husband was getting irritated with the kids. The nerves were jangling. I start itching. I look down, and I'm breaking out into hives. I'm actually breaking out into hives sitting here writing this. So, this is hello and goodnight.

I haven't blogged in a long time because of the failure rate. But, what the Hell. It is what it is.