Does anyone know a good priest. I think my baby is possessed. Ethan and I have had a tumultuous (did I come even close to the correct spelling?) relationship since the day he was born. Last night, he tested mommy's coping capabilities and let's just say, "I failed".
He and the other siblings were doing the ol' fake coughing gig. Ethan hung his ass (well, not really his "ass", but he was hanging) over the 2x4 lattice that goes up our stairs and coughed so hard he puked all down the wall and all over the couch. I flipped my lid. Partly the non smoking (oh yeah, by the way, I have quit....again) and partly the zoloft not agreeing with me. I stomped around, made an ass of myself and pretty much just freaked out in general. You would have thought it wouldn't have gotten any worse. Well, You would have been dead ass wrong. Steven comes running down the stairs to tell me Ethan has now puked all over Steven's bed. I run upstairs to puke all over the bed and floor. The little devil was laughing. I swear, he only looks like Clint so Lucifer could throw me off his scent. He is the devil's spawn. Okay, probably not true, but in my psychotic break last night, I was almost convinced. I wonder if my mother is laughing as these infinite numbers of chickens come home to roost.
Needless to say, I have another Dr's appointment on Friday morning. I want to go back to my little dose of paxill. That worked wonderfully. I wish they had never changed it. The doctor could have just added an anti anxiety or something for the really edgy days.
Don't forget to go here.
He and the other siblings were doing the ol' fake coughing gig. Ethan hung his ass (well, not really his "ass", but he was hanging) over the 2x4 lattice that goes up our stairs and coughed so hard he puked all down the wall and all over the couch. I flipped my lid. Partly the non smoking (oh yeah, by the way, I have quit....again) and partly the zoloft not agreeing with me. I stomped around, made an ass of myself and pretty much just freaked out in general. You would have thought it wouldn't have gotten any worse. Well, You would have been dead ass wrong. Steven comes running down the stairs to tell me Ethan has now puked all over Steven's bed. I run upstairs to puke all over the bed and floor. The little devil was laughing. I swear, he only looks like Clint so Lucifer could throw me off his scent. He is the devil's spawn. Okay, probably not true, but in my psychotic break last night, I was almost convinced. I wonder if my mother is laughing as these infinite numbers of chickens come home to roost.
Needless to say, I have another Dr's appointment on Friday morning. I want to go back to my little dose of paxill. That worked wonderfully. I wish they had never changed it. The doctor could have just added an anti anxiety or something for the really edgy days.
Don't forget to go here.
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