Suck. Replace the “s” with an “f”. That’s really what I want to say. And I may have said it a few times. Don’t judge me.
Today was minimum day for Kyle. Marie came today. And there was a mandatory parent soccer meeting at the school for Any kids wanting to play on the school soccer team-Cody. Oh and the meeting was at 5pm.
Honestly I didn’t think I would walk into my house after being gone 30 minutes to what I did. 30 minutes. I was gone 30 stupid minutes.
I walked in and was instantly greeted with the strong odor of puke. And Kyle sitting with Marie in the front room-with a towel draped over his lap. James walked around the corner and shot me a look of “sorry babe” without even saying anything. No one had to say anything. I already knew. I walked into a puke storm.
I didn’t even ask what or why. I just tried to hold back my tears. And hold back my irritation. Irritation for Marie for not knowing him well enough to know the puke face-totally not her fault but I’m still irritated. Irritation for Kyle that his go to is throwing up. Freaking throwing up is his go to. What the crap. Irritation that this is my life. I can’t leave for 30 minutes without having to pay for it. It’s not fair.
I didn’t even want to walk upstairs. James said he gave Kyle a bath (god bless my amazing husband) but he couldn’t clean the puke up it was too bad and his gag reflex was on high alert. Which made me really not want to go up there. I got my cleaning supplies and towels and walked up to his room trying not to melt down.
I walked in to this: How do I even clean this up? Where do I start? The smell was so overwhelming. Like soooo overwhelming. It was chunks of puke. I walked in stood there for a few minutes and walked back downstairs.
James and I have talked about being a carpet free home due to the over puking by Kyle. So what better time to start tearing carpet out? That’s what we decided. My husband is amazing.
We ripped the carpet out of his room and we will lay down some sort of flooring over the weekend-that isn’t carpet. It’s hard not to feel like a prisoner of Kyle’s. I feel so suffocated by him sometimes. People tell me I need to leave him more, he needs to get used to having other people do things for him. But. This. This is what happens when I leave. And it was 30 minutes. I leave and it makes my life MORE difficult. I am literally a prisoner.
I’m laying next to Kyle now. He’s super anxious because his room is different. No carpet. Just the padding. I had to throw away his bed rail because it was covered in puke. His toy box had to be thrown away-it was covered. Now we lay here. Me trying not to cave to tears. Him trying to calm his anxiety enough to relax and fall asleep.
I’m trying to tell myself to stop feeling sorry for myself. To knock it off. It’s just puke. But Im so tired of puke. Suck. I’m just so tired. I keep saying that, I know. People often tell me they don’t know how I do it. I didn’t know I had a choice. I get up everyday and fight the fight because it’s the cards I was dealt, I guess. I don’t know any other way. But it’s hard. And I’m tired. And some days all the online shopping and all the diet cokes aren’t enough and I have to bring out the big guns and say suck with an “f”.
Positive: soon we will be a carpet free home. And cleaning up throw up will be so much easier. ❤️🧩