Just when I thought that everything had gone well and we would be able to make it to the march at 8:30 in the morning,
T had bowel movement but refused to go to the toilet. After all was cleaned up, he spent another 5 minutes on the bike insisting on fastening the belt by himself. By the time that he had finished all his fussy business, and had answered all the rebellious needs of his wild nature, it was already 8:45. In the end, we cycled to the kindergarten.
It was like last Tuesday when he screamed and struggled, and K got upset and finally scolded him to the extent that the neighbourhood heard about it.
Since it was too early to arrive at the kindergarten by bike, I decided to take a detour, and gradually he calmed down. He told me that he would only go to the kindergarten but not to the march. However, when asked for a reason, he could not answer.
The detour was a therapy for myself as well. The aimless wandering was a salvation to my nerve. I also rode slowly on my way back filled with all feelings of frustration. I was almost in tears. Why has it been so difficult?
Nothing can be planned and nothing has been or can be achieved. A sense of hopelessness, especially after a very dramatic and frustrating week of work.
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