I am an asshole

The first thing I did this morning (other than nurse Gracie) was give Eleanor a careful manicure.

Tonight I yelled with such rage at Eleanor that I made her cry in terror. My throat hurts now and I have a headache. I am totally drained and have just cracked open a corona. Our evening started well. I had written the title of their TV movie a few blank pages into their workbooks as an incentive to finish these pages while the sitter's daughter did her homework. They did extra pages even and we came home to watch their (ridiculous - Mostly Ghostly) movie. I asked them to get their pajamas on and brush their teeth and Eleanor simply wouldn't. After some point, I tossed a softcover book at her back to get her attention/because I was getting mad, and between bad aim and Eleanor shifting, I hit Charlotte in the face and she screamed for a long two minutes. I held her, feeling very sorry and guilty, and getting angrier at Eleanor as she accused me, with growing intensity, how I had hit Charlotte on purpose. I felt like Ursula the sea witch in the Little Mermaid when she tries to kill Prince Eric and misses and kills her precious eels by mistake. Eleanor then smooshed a tiny pansy seedling mindlessly between her thumb and forefinger as she yelled at me: that was the last straw. I got up and backed her into her room by the sheer sonic turbulence of my voice. I didn't even care that I scared her. I don't know how to get her to listen. She does not listen. I made her brush her teeth last night and watched her. She spit blood into the sink and I asked how long it had been since she brushed. "A week?" I thought she did it every night before bed when I told her. She doesn't do anything I say.

I ate the kids' Halloween candy today when I thought they weren't looking. Chris doesn't believe me that I can't handle having it in the house. I planned to go the gym today to quit - to save the money - but instead worked out and even had the nerve to hit the heavy bag (I have always been too self-conscious.) I pounded on the Easter candy-eating loser version of my self and bruised my hands. It felt good though. I could box.

When Gracie is playing with dolls and talking to herself, and runs out of words, her filler is "juck juck joo" which means chugga chugga choo choo.

Today I committed to teaching both classes again fall semester.

I made fermented oatmeal and orange juice with cod liver oil for breakfast, chicken miso soup with chips and bean dip for lunch, and Eleanor's jello for tea.