Over it in Everyday Musings of a Very Tired Mama

Our cat Finny has been missing for 8 days. He got out when Babe had to get the AC unit out the front door because it caught fire. We didnt even realize for two days that we hadn’t seen him. We’ve got him on all the lost and found sites, including the sheriffs office. I’ve called clinics and shelters in the area, our neighborhood is plastered with signs. Every night we slather ourselves with bug spray and canvas the neighborhood. Nothing. It’s hard for me to have faith (in general) because I am afraid that if I have faith and it doesn’t work out, it will disappoint me and then I will question God.
Pickle goes back to school in a week and although I am happy, I also have some trepidation. I dont know how we will handle the bathroom situation. His sleeping is pretty fucked up because of the clonodine. He is obsessed with his tablet. And I don’t look forward to walking to and from school in the heat and having arguments about homework every day. It will be nice to have him out of the house because he has been home for 6 weeks now and I am at the end of my rope. But at the same time, Boo is almost the bigger pain in the ass right now. Tantrums, getting into everything that isn’t nailed down, spotty on naps and bedtime. I texted Babe today that I was sick of not having a life of my own, I am a mother-nothing else-, I am a glorified babysitter that just gets through the day, being only a chauffeur, maid, cook and a disciplinarian. And I am so goddamn sick of it. I’ve been a SAHM for an entire year now and holy shit, this is not what I am meant to be. At least not full time. We are looking at putting Boo in preschool when she is 2 in October, but how do we afford that when we can’t even keep a positive balance in our checking account most of the time? Then that sends me spiraling down the rabbit hole of resenting Babe because he has the means to study/go back to school to get a higher paying job, something that he would actually enjoy instead of the job he hates. And he does fucking nothing about it.
My therapist said everything that is going on right now is the really crappy part. It’s like being in a huge storm that won’t let up. But she says it will get better and I believe it will, but sometimes it doesn’t seem like it.
Now that Pickle has his medical diagnosis of ASD, we are getting the ball rolling for services he will need and trying to figure out how we’re going to pay for it. That brings with it a whole host of leg work that I have to do and I can’t do much until he goes back to school and I have privacy to talk to doctors and insurance companies.
Last Wednesday I weighed myself and was down to a good number that I hadn’t seen in awhile. I have been hovering about 5-7 pounds above that forever. I felt pretty good about it, but still ate like shit and this morning, showed a 3.3 pound gain. Quelle surprise! What the fuck do I expect is going to happen?
I need a 10 day vacation where I can drink coffee, swim and be in the company of only intelligent adults who like to have meaningful conversations. Is that really too much to ask?