Little explosion…big issue.

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Today is Therapy Wednesday for my and the BIO. Great day. I spend all morning working on what I want to address and how I want to bring it up, so that I don’t sound evil or mean or like I’m picking on him. And, then I get emails like the one I received in my Inbox whilst checking for messages from Mr. Public Service. It was a basic accusation that I have been punishing our son (aka the Monkey) for peeing in his pants (BIO calls Pull-ups diapers). First, I was angry then I was irrational and then I stopped myself from making the same mistake he always tricks me into making.

SENDING THE ANGRY RESPONSE.

Finally, I took a deep breath and saw the rage inducer for what it was. An opportunity to make me jump down his throat for even thinking I might yell at or reprimand the Monkey for not being fully potty comfortable yet.

No matter how often we get along, it’s as though the BIO has to have discord and anger to function in this world. If he’s not holding something over my head, looming like a cloud of yucky rain then there is not contentment in his life.

Today during therapy we were talking and being cordial and when the therapist asked him if he could see how easy it was to get along and talk to each other, he dropped his tone again and said something about he’s just doing this for the Monkey. Duh!! Who else would we be doing it for? If a judge hadn’t ordered me to sit down and do this I would avoid any contact with the manipulator and his game.

I think it’s funny because we used to joke about couples who couldn’t communicate as well as we could…irony hurts.

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