I had my first out of control parent moment today. Ossie was waaay too tired, wouldn't go down for a nap, and Matilda was an easy target. He basically body slammed her while she was in her bouncy seat. I grabbed him too hard and yelled and then he laughed and threw legos at me so I had to actually exit the house to prevent myself from doing something horrible. This scared the shit out of him (me too, honey) and he ran up to me when I came back inside (Matilda screaming, Ossie crying, shit shit shit) saying "carry you carry you carry you" with his arms held out.

I feel terrible.

I'm at work now. I have to be here for somewhere between 5-10 hours per week. I'm really glad to be away from home. I've left the house three times in the past, god knows, month? Every time to come to work. I can't actually talk to anyone though. I think I come off as completely and pathetically tired/sad/pissed off/anti-social/weird. Every one of my not-so-great social traits is in ascendance. I don't know how to spell. Also.

I also feel like a loser because I gain weight when I breastfeed. Who the fuck GAINS when she breastfeeds? Everyone says that breastfeeding makes you lose all this weight without even trying. Me? I'm walking all the time, running after Ossie, exercising, eating really well. And I'm gaining weight. Same thing happened with Ossie and I just felt like shit about myself the entire time I breastfed. As soon as I stopped (when I was 4 months pregnant with Matilda), I lost all that weight. Whilst pregnant.

Just another thing to beat myself up with. Hate talking about weight. But I also hate feeling and looking like this and I hate not having clothes to wear and I hate not having any friends, but I don't actually like anyone I meet (or I do like them, but I just don't know how to expend all that energy becoming friends. Do you know what I mean?) Plus, I'm just embarrased by everything--the messy unfinished too small house (why do I feel the need to explain to everyone why the house is the way it is? I'm trying not to do this anymore), my size, my inability to speak about anything that matters. I just want to go somewhere else, be someone else.

God. I hope nobody reads this mess. It's one bad day. Ok. Ok. Ok.