Dinner was chaos. The up and down a hundred times. The demands. The fussy eating. The "I'll eat it now" and then two seconds later "I don't like it anymore." Cooking separate meals just to avoid a meltdown. The way I cut the food being a trigger. The plate being wrong. Foods touching.
I stopped taking the kids to restaurants. I didn't want to be that parent.
Going anywhere as a family? 20% of the time they looked happy. The other 80%? Walking on eggshells. Tiptoeing around their mood. One second it's fine, the next it's not. Sun in the eyes. Sand on hands. A dog barking. Wind in their face.
You just cannot keep up.
And mornings? God, I hated mornings. Every single day was a fight. Bickering. Arguing. Getting her up, dressed, teeth brushed, medicine down — which alone took 20 minutes because she refused to take it. By 7am I was already in tears.
I was exhausted. Every. Single. Day.