open mouth, insert foot

I have this uncanny ability to say inappropriate and ill timed sentences. I kick myself for it. I feel really bad about it. I don't want to be the girl that people avoid because something ugly and hurtful pops out. And I don't want to always feel tense and unsure, fearful of the involuntary words slipping past my monitoring system. I don't remember being like this before. I always considered myself as tactful and reassuring. But recently, I feel like I need to apologize to people before I even venture in to conversation- just as a precautionary measure.

Ug, I could just wash my mouth out sometimes.

I have been feeling like a bad friend lately. I don't feel like I have enough energy to go around or time to share with the people that really matter. I can't get on the phone for more than 5 minutes without someone under 3 feet tall requiring my urgent and necessary attention. I am pulled emotionally in all directions and it is exhausting. I am afraid of what people must think of me.

I feel very distracted. I know it's normal and I should cut myself some slack. I have been up to my ears in projects and have a very needy and temperamental toddler now. He is so very demanding. I am not sure how to deal with him effectively and most nights I crawl in to bed feeling guilty and depressed. I am not equipped for this job. This child challenges what little I thought I had figured out. I am not sure how to discipline with love and grace when I am losing my mind and my patience.

I am reminded of his illness with each of his uneven steps. The sound of his labored gait is a dead give away and my heart aches to know if I am doing the right thing by him. I wake up each day saying, "today will be the day that I don't lose my temper." But more mornings than not I am crying before I leave the bed. He is crazy and out of control. He uses his body as a ram rod and his head as a sledge hammer. I feel physically abused by the way he throws his weight around. He doesn't necessarily do it out of meanness- just wildness. Oh how I wish I could tame him- if even a bit.

The limp is still there and now it's progressed in to something a bit scarier. He is dragging his foot and it's back to the odd 45 degree angle. I roll this around and around and feel the anxiety and frustration pounding in my skull. I wish he could talk and explain it all away. I want him to tell when and where exactly he feels the pain. I want him to tell me when he steps in a hole and twists his foot, just aggravating the problems that already exist. I want to be on top of his illness, one step ahead.

But instead, I am floundering around, stressing about tomorrow, wishing I could control my temper. I wish I could just close my mouth and put one foot in front of the other.