a few minutes ago
Most people's Saturday mornings are full of relief at the end of another week, wondering what they will do with their family and contemplating what treats are in store for the next two days. I'm currently sitting in a carpark with Jude who has completely lost it. I've been punched, spat at, kicked, pinched and bitten for the last fifteen minutes and he is only just starting to calm down. I have a lump on my wrist from where he hit me with his shoe and my left arm is throbbing and blotchy from defending the constant blows. For the first time ever, I couldn't overpower him so I guess we are now reaching an age where he is becoming stronger than me. Jude stripped off his top and shoes as he always does when he loses it and only isn't completely naked because he can't work out how to take his shorts off whilst sitting in the car. His sensitivity to touch is immense during these times.
This all set off because I said we were going to get his hair cut. But in reality it's a culmination of school worries, all the changes and balancing out the new notions within his head. It's horrific. I hate my life at times. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't jealous of all those pictures I see of families out with their children at all these "family friendly" venues, having a jolly good time. I've never had that. Even on a good day, I harbour that worry at the back of my mind that something could go wrong at any moment. It sucks.