Having a bad day. We got ready to go to our field trip and I couldn't find my car keys. A normal thing for me, but they usually turn up rather quickly. My husband was home, but took forever to finally offer to let me use his keys and look for mine later. At this point we could still make it, but we would be just barely on time. I go out to the car and it won't start. The battery was completely dead. I know these things happen. I told my husband who proceeded to start shouting in frustration. My children were upset cause they had to miss their outing. And needless to say yikes it was frustrating to me too. Mostly feeling trapped in all that hostility. I ended up getting mad myself no big shock and the domino effect of all four of us was a mess. Now in the aftermath of the whole big ridiculous thing I am trying to calm down and carry on with our day. We still have a bunch of stuff to do. So now what do I look for my car keys again or go make bread? I know to some of you with real problems this stuff seems so trivial. It's just that this is our only running vehicle. A dead battery is an easy fix, but we have replaced battery at least three times in the past few years. It's an old car so I guess that is one of it's idiosyncrasies. Well I could rant all day, but the bread won't bake itself and I feel much better now.
As a kid I watched my parents fight about different things. I don't really have any other parents to compare them to so I can't really say whether they were normal fights couples have or not. I couldn't even say what most of them were about except the ones that were about me. We only ate as a family on holidays. My father came home late so we kids ate without him. I do remember spending time with him in the evening before I went to bed so it couldn't have been that late. My own husband gets home a little later because of his job commute so we eat late every night. But home schooling has given us the ability to be more flexible than my Mom was able to be. We had school early the next day. As I got older, I remember my Father being home less and less and the fights seemed to intensify. I remember one night when I was thirteen. I could hear them yelling through the wall. My mom found me crying and I told her I didn't want them to get a divorce. She told me...
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