Last Tuesday morning started out like all other weekday mornings. Only, when I woke up, I realized that Love Bug never came into my bedroom. I was alone in my bed. Maybe he was so tired, he had gone to bed late both nights over the weekend,
so maybe he slept through the night. Win for Mom! I noticed Chica Marie was sleeping on my floor, which was seemed unusual, but I didn’t give it too much thought. I got up and went to put the dogs outside. We have a new foster dog. He is a Pomsky (Pomeranian-Husky)
we named Winter. As I closed the door I heard someone whimpering, “Mommy?” I turned and saw the kids bedroom door was closed. Love Bug was trapped in their bedroom! The doorknob to the kids bedroom has been broken for a long time, and I got sick of replacing
it. So, the door only opens from the outside. I opened the door and Love Bug flew into my arms, sobbing incoherently. He had been trapped in their room all night and I never heard him calling me. He was drenched in sweat and his own pee and trembling from
fear and cold. I took him to the bathroom and pealed his soaked pajamas off of him while trying to comfort him as he continued to babble. I ran a warm bath with bubbles and encouraged him to soak to warm up. Soon, he began making sense, expressing his fear
from the night being locked alone in their bedroom. For a full 15 minutes I could not leave his side. After he was bathed and his fear subsided, he went to sleep in my bed for a few minutes. Fortunately, he has been doing ok since this incident, but he is
more adamant than ever that he needs to sleep in my bed.
The day went on, as they tend to do, but with Murphy at the helm. It was the CHOR Christmas party and the kids were so excited to go. Love Bug picked out a suit, with a tie, and he was tickled pink to wear his “handsome outfit.” We had
a nice time at the party and came home just after 8 to find the dog had gotten into the trash. Not only was there rubbish all over the kitchen floor, but there were coffee grounds and left-over chocolate goop from creating chocolate covered pretzels. It was
all smeared across the floor in a brown-black sticky mush that took an incredibly long time and various methods to clean up. I was exhausted and sent the kids to bed as soon as the floor was traversable.
I thought my night was over after sending Primero off with his friends to spend the night with them. I brushed my teeth and washed my face, preparing for bed. It was only after I washed my face that I realized my face lotion was missing.
I searched for it in the bathroom but did not find it. Perplexed, I called Primero to see if he knew where it might have gone. He has this aggravating habit of taking something down to his bedroom to use it and not putting it back. “Oh a friend asked if I
had any face lotion so I took it for them to use.” Are you kidding me?! “There wasn’t that much left.” It was the last of what I had and plenty for me to use that night. I was enraged. His inconsiderate act just boiled my blood and I snapped. Keep in mind,
this is not the first time nor even the fifty-first time he has taken something and placed it elsewhere or left with it and I cannot find it when I want to use it. I lost my temper and stormed into his bedroom to reclaim all of my stuff. I found my eye pencil
sharpener that had gone missing a few days ago. I found 5 nail clippers of various sizes. I found the sewing kit, the iron, and the body measuring tape I could not find a month ago. I carried three piles of found items back upstairs. I sent Primero photos
of what I was taking, so it was on the up and up. I took his Ipod, stupidly, mostly just to piss him off. He came home screaming at me that I had no right to take anything and flung my face lotion at me. It was all my fault, you see. I crossed a line when
I took stuff from his room, but it is perfectly fine for him to take things. My things. “Well, I never went into your room!” he yelled at me. I have always respected his room. But, he cannot continue taking my things and maintain my respect. If I crossed a
line, he ran through it first. Sadly, things have not recovered between me and Primero. We had another blow up Friday night and haven’t spoken since then. I wish it didn’t, but this time of year stresses me out so much I’m beginning to dread it. Thankfully,
it is soon over.
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