The day started well enough. Dude has bad fever we have hung out with him a bit. Even painted his bedroom ceiling. Whilst taking rests and snacking. But now we just hear our petrified voice when we pointlessly called out 'mum' when they put down the tarp.
For all the dream team hell and the morning calls its the reason we hate Sundays and can't handle Mothering Sundays. We haven't moved on. From that day on all we do is tolerate people until they go away again. See things that need to be broken and then break them.
We aren't remembering enough to remember what or if we named but we knew who we were and named her Alexis didn't we? Its one of the names written on the ceiling in Dudes room from when Laura stayed here and kids were coming in and out lots 'Lexi' its in purple pen or some shit and we have tried sanding and all sorts and will take all few more coats of paint for all their names to gone.
I'm very glad he has lost his appetite coz it would really awful to try cook quick simple fevered child food right now.
What do we do now after that? Horrid spooks made us listen to and watch all the people and all the steps involved in organising it. What inclusion, what healing, what 'life' can there be after that? When they still have control over our reproduction?
When the estrangement with the ones they didn't slaughter is still rock solid for the purposes of protecting abusers..
We just tired we know. After work and the way things are are, hes fine. We got what he needs. Just try rest but it either comes up or we feel locked down or controlled. Just like they want it. Yeah you call me Julia now.