Everything’s loud, heavy, and I’m running out of energy

I'm still-blue.
I find I'm crying randomly.
No one gives a hoot, right?

I've never done well with change.
Had Raven not had littles, his moving back in would have just been a blip.

But, he does have littles, and those littles are neurodiverse.
I suspect even if they were neurotypical, things would have been difficult.

Raven and the other parent's style of parenting tends toward hands-off. 
The littles are mostly left to do as they please—as long as it doesn’t disturb mom and dad. 
Occasionally, there’s a sudden outburst when something crosses an invisible line, but most of the time, it’s silence.

They’ve not taught the littles indoor voices. 
They’ve not taught them the difference between indoor play and outdoor play. 
They’ve not taught them boundaries—if something is locked, you don’t unlock it and prowl. 
If something is clearly not yours, you don’t go and break it. 
You don’t drag things that aren’t yours into the yard and leave them. 
Dishes go in the sink. 
Food is not hidden in toy boxes or ground into the floor. 
We share a television—you do not hog it from Friday to Sunday.
 It is not acceptable to hit a sibling. 
Forcing yourself to puke because you are angry is nasty.
They’ve not taught proper bathroom etiquette: flushing, wiping pee off seats, washing hands. 
That’s been a battle for Badger and me—we talk until we’re blue in the face trying to teach those littles a little bit of hygiene.

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The favorite excuse is they are autistic and ADHD.

Well, I raised three boys with ADHD, and one daughter with autism, and they had routine, structure, and boundaries. 
I did it without resorting to corporal punishment.

They did not behave like Raven's littles, and I'm saying littles.

Each time Vier comes down, she's a little more feral. 
She'll be two the end of April, and she's already screaming at the brothers, throwing tantrums, and telling the adults she won't do whatever. 
A lot of that, of course, is being two. 
But now is the time you teach her certain behavior is unacceptable.

What Raven and the other parent have created are littles that are not pleasant to be around. 
No little is 100% horrible—we have sweet moments. 
But the bad outweighs the good.

As Badger and Heron say, with different parents, those boys would be amazing. 
They’re each smart as whips. 
Eins used to be a sweetheart, but as he ages up, that’s being lost. 
And it’s a shame.
 It is.

With his oppositional defiant disorder, I'm giving Drei a year or two before he starts being completely unmanageable. 
He already hits you when you tell him no.
 I mean, he punches as hard as he can punch.

He's also perfected the art of cramming his fist down his throat and forcing himself to puke when he's angry.

So, long-winded rant.

As long as Raven’s littles live here on the weekends, Badger and I do not feel like we have a home anymore. 
They fill it up. 
They take over.

There is no better solution. 
Raven will never be able to afford to move out.

All I see stretched out in front of me is more chaos. 
More giving up my life to accommodate Raven’s littles.

This is not how I wanted to grow old.

Today has not been a good day for me. 
I deal with undiagnosed depression, and things are just hitting hard right now. 
Stupid, right?

Badger and I took a quick walk, not far, though.
Tomorrow is church day, so no walks at all.

graveyard fungus

 

Badger also goes to the doctor at the crack of dawn tomorrow.
Her hands have looked like scaly lobsters all winter-get a doctor's appointment, and they clear up.
She has pictures, though.
Maybe we'll finally find something out.

I think I'll get off of here, go back to my TV.