A long weekend ahead...

Unlike most people, I dread Fridays because Dillon isn't in school, which not only leaves him exposed to Derek's temper much more, but it also negates my "excuse" to get out of the house in the morning. Derek has never been one to get up and out, and on weekends it's especially bad. He can linger around the house watching tv until one o'clock, while the rest of us try to stay out of his way and absolutely quiet. I take walks with the kids just to get them out of there, but damnit, I would really enjoy relaxing around the house with our precious babies, playing and tickling, and snuggling on the couch with a movie, but with Derek it can never be that way. He's constantly irritated by noise. We can't do anything without getting yelled at.

Yesterday we went to dinner at this great little Italian place. An old friend of ours owns it, and I was really looking forward to it. Our kids were very hungry, and therefore quiet because they were busy shoveling food into their mouths with much gratitude. The sad part was that Derek's brain -- whatever chemical problem he seems to have -- kicked in, and he turned nasty. What that means is that he spent every minute nagging the three of us to death. And please understand, this isn't something that's just an annoyance, that would be a relief. Derek gets so angry, and venemous. Without warning he tugs at Dillon's ear, making him cry, right in the middle of a bite, yelling at him: "Damnit, Dillon! Sit up right!" Then Dillon cries and he gets more: "Stop it! Stop it right now, I'm telling you! And you, Ella! What a pig! My God, and their mother sits right there, not doing anything, unbelievable." Then he turns back to Dillon, who's only had time to take one bite, and he's doing his best to stick to the rule book, but geez, he's only 3! Then he gets a pinch on his arm, "Not like that! How stupid! Do it the right way!" he hisses, referring to the way that Dillon is trying to scoop some spaghetti onto his spoon. The stress and anxiety that we all feel is palpable. My chest is soooo tight. And so is Dillon's I'm sure. He's getting nagged to death by a scary monster. Who can eat like this? It's just awful. Of course when he lays into Dillon I have to intervene, which just adds to the tense atmosphere. Dillon is crying now at the injustice of Derek's treatment: "Daddy, you pinched me, don't do that!" And I add, "Would you stop pinching him, and shoving him, and all that other violent crap!! Stop it! No one can eat like that!" But it doesn't phase him. All it does is make him momentarily turn his venom on me. Then I get the full round of what a horrible mother I am and how they're only like this because of me.

It's so much to take every day. I try to teach Dillon that it's not okay to hit, or yell, but how can I when that's what he sees every day? I can't wait to get out of this. It's all I think of, night and day. In the meanwhile, I have to endure, and protect my babies the best that I can. It feels like this vacation will never end.

Until next time, dear friend...