More Emotions

His anxiety level is very high and he's taking it out on me. Again.

I am doing my very best to keep my "professional" distance and talk him down. The psychologist's advice for dealing with anger isn't working. Gee, where does that boy get his anger from?

You think I'm talking Twig, right?

Wood is upset that grandma isn't able to go with us where we want to go on the weekends. This weekend in particular. He's completely inconsolable. He doesn't want to hear logic. He doesn't want to hear anything. He just ramps himself up and behaves badly toward me. I'm not going to bite.

Once upon a time, he didn't bite when I got my panties in a bunch. Funny how things change.

Life - real fucking life - happens. Children that we chose to bring into the world demand our attention, jobs that we must have to make ends meet demand our attention, parents get old and demand our attention. Responsibilities in other parts of our lives demand attention. Even on Father's Day.

He's already decided that this weekend is going to suck. Grandma won't be able to hang out too long at Twig's baseball-party-picnic in the park on Saturday. I have to leave (for a little more than 24 whole hours) to deal with our house drama. He's overwhelmed and gets all martyr like when I am leaving. About grandma and the weekend he says "I won't go to the picnic because I don't want to set myself up. It'll never work and then I'll get mad." My plea to focus on what we can do, to try to make things work to the best of our ability, to focus on the good stuff falls on deaf ears. He's completely anti. So I tell him that if things aren't working we need to make a change. A global change.

He doesn't want to hear that, either.

He puts Twig to bed, angry. I pour another glass of wine and talk to the potential property manager on the phone.