Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Seventy-Four
3:30 a.m. Just a little bit of barking.
Cognitive reappraisal.
Their flight is landing a little bit early.
Where are you running to?
Behind us is a father, on Father’s Day, telling his young child that he's sick and tired of him, that he’s awful, that he doesn’t want to even be around him. I tell my husband that I just read about this exact situation in my emotional intelligence book… about how, because the parent can’t self-regulate, they speak in wild ways to the child, who then emulates the behavior, yet the parent doesn’t understand why the child can’t control themself. I hope, at some point, someone gives that child the right tools to break the cycle.
And so it begins.
Ants crawling around the edge of the sink. Great.
Green bean and cherry tomato salad.
Stress-eating Nutella and pretzel crisps.
Here we go again.
