Finally, my mom returned. She was gone forever. This, of course, has set me up with huge issues when my dad leaves for a trip, like today. On these types of days, I just want to lay on the stairs, naked, and cry making it impossible to use the stairs without seeing me and knowing that I'm in distress. It is awful, really to be abandoned like I've been. The biggest abandonment occurring when I was 11 months old and had surgery, let's just say my parents started a huge therapy fund for later when they need it to recover from parenting me because I'm still working out issues from that event.
My distress is not what I want to talk about. I learned several clever things while she was gone, like how I can pull a chair over to the pantry and grab the desserts while she's in the shower, or how I can wipe my bottom really good with the whole roll of toilet paper, or how I can roll down my window and throw my shoes out while we're stopped at a stop sign. Although I like that my mom returned, it meant that Grammy went home, which was depressing. Grammy took us to Grounds Cafe everyday and gave us chips. My mom passes Grounds Cafe everyday and doesn't take us. Issy and I holler and scream for her to stop, but she doesn't, claiming something more important needs to happen at home and we don't have time. This is hugely disappointing. I've made it clear a number of times that it is also unacceptable. As we drive by, I've unbuckled my main seat belt, the one that holds the car seat in place, so my mom has to at least pull over by Grounds. When this message wasn't gotten, I unbucked my little seat belt, leaned forward, and pulled my mom's hair. The thing is, I get in trouble but it really doesn't matter. I'm a little person with big feelings and it's more important for me to express them, then to sit quiet and take life on my mom's terms.
This leads to greater issues. I have a hole in my tummy that my mom won't put a bandaid on. It is a big enough hole that I can stick my finger in it and the top of my finger disappears. I don't want to have a hole. I don't like this hole. I've asked for a bandaid so many times and my mom refuses. She says that I was born with this hole, it helped feed me when I was in her tummy. Her explanation scares me even more. I have no memory of being in her tummy and I don't like that idea at all. At any rate, it hasn't been easy processing this news. I've needed to be held and when my mom says she can't do it, I cling to her leg and groan, reminding her that she has a person who has big needs that she can't just ignore while getting dinner. At night, it's worse and I imagine things in the dark. This makes it more difficult for me to sleep and wakes me up when it's still dark. Of course, my mom can solve this disturbance so I go sleep with her. On her pillow. So our cheeks are touching. I need her that close. Tonight should be really bad because my dad's gone. I'll definitely need her cheek tonight. Definitely.
Later,
lil' e
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