not surprisingly
I've made it through the last three days and, you now, bla bla. It wasn't hard, and I don't think the next four and a bit weeks will be hard either.
Oh, I wept bitter tears on Monday, but in hindsight they were mostly because the whatchamacallit nurse was such a hag, all [insert uppity tone here. And quite probably an indignant 'Hmmph!'] "It's not my fault", "I don't know what you expect me to do about it." and "I don't know you so I can't help you.".
For serious. Given that this is a fertility clinic, I'd expected a little more sensitivity to the patient's needs when well laid plans went south.
She went on and on and on about how she couldn't help me and how dare I have feelings, and I reckon that out of the ten or so minutes we talked, I spoke for two of them.
Anyway, that was my (kind of pathetic) actual problem on Monday. Not the fear of never having anothe child freaking my shit out. It was the lack of a kind word when I was faced with a situation I totally did not expect. For obviously I am lame. But! My emotions have been held in a holding pattern for the last ten weeks because of my expections of what happens next, so having a(nother, god help me) date go kerput, well, it kind of made me lose my shit.
Which sounds kind of dramatic.
Losing my shit is kind of less than that, but as I'm hang on to my emotions so tightly I'm practically turned upside down, the occasional leaking of tears with only hint of associated snuffling and sniffling constitutes Losing My Shit. An all out howl session with streams of water spouting from my eyeballs? Would indicate this particular shit loser is not likely to be me.
So that's that.
Four a bit weeks, rock on.
In other news and as long as his pants are off, Daniel has been peeing in the potty like a true champion. We've had zero accidents and maximum score every time. If he's clad in a nappy? He pees in them, and while we've not tried the Big Boy pants yet, but I suspect he'd let loose in those too. I'm not fussed because I'm happy for him to learn the difference between peeing on command and peeing whenever the urge takes him. Which he has. Childcare are all "but it's not the right way to train them". I dont know. Is it? I mean, isn't helping your child demonstrate control a good thing? I'm mixing my metaphors but I'd think it's okay to build on the lesson to eventually get to the the whole enchilada. Daniel's already learned half of the equation, I expect he'll be able to add to that and reach the ultimate Pants On, Nappy Free goal regardless of my lack of respect for how it's (apparently) meant to be done.
Oh, I wept bitter tears on Monday, but in hindsight they were mostly because the whatchamacallit nurse was such a hag, all [insert uppity tone here. And quite probably an indignant 'Hmmph!'] "It's not my fault", "I don't know what you expect me to do about it." and "I don't know you so I can't help you.".
For serious. Given that this is a fertility clinic, I'd expected a little more sensitivity to the patient's needs when well laid plans went south.
She went on and on and on about how she couldn't help me and how dare I have feelings, and I reckon that out of the ten or so minutes we talked, I spoke for two of them.
Anyway, that was my (kind of pathetic) actual problem on Monday. Not the fear of never having anothe child freaking my shit out. It was the lack of a kind word when I was faced with a situation I totally did not expect. For obviously I am lame. But! My emotions have been held in a holding pattern for the last ten weeks because of my expections of what happens next, so having a(nother, god help me) date go kerput, well, it kind of made me lose my shit.
Which sounds kind of dramatic.
Losing my shit is kind of less than that, but as I'm hang on to my emotions so tightly I'm practically turned upside down, the occasional leaking of tears with only hint of associated snuffling and sniffling constitutes Losing My Shit. An all out howl session with streams of water spouting from my eyeballs? Would indicate this particular shit loser is not likely to be me.
So that's that.
Four a bit weeks, rock on.
In other news and as long as his pants are off, Daniel has been peeing in the potty like a true champion. We've had zero accidents and maximum score every time. If he's clad in a nappy? He pees in them, and while we've not tried the Big Boy pants yet, but I suspect he'd let loose in those too. I'm not fussed because I'm happy for him to learn the difference between peeing on command and peeing whenever the urge takes him. Which he has. Childcare are all "but it's not the right way to train them". I dont know. Is it? I mean, isn't helping your child demonstrate control a good thing? I'm mixing my metaphors but I'd think it's okay to build on the lesson to eventually get to the the whole enchilada. Daniel's already learned half of the equation, I expect he'll be able to add to that and reach the ultimate Pants On, Nappy Free goal regardless of my lack of respect for how it's (apparently) meant to be done.
posted by aibee at 15:36
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