Exhausting

Baz has behavioral and developmental issues. We're getting him evaluated both through the school and (likely) privately. 

This shit is byzantine. There is no other way to put it. Well, maybe labyrinthian. If I spelled that right, it'll be a miracle. Evaluations, questionnaires, appointment after appointment. Form after form. Add that to the regular rigor of virtual schooling with a transitional kindergartener and it's a miracle I'm getting anything done.

Except I'm not. This is the most personal writing I've done in days. I usually get up early to do that and I haven't been. I've wanted the sleep, needed it. Every day feels like a fucking sprint. At least today is more chill. Except it's not. Except it never is. Except parenthood is a job that doesn't end, even when they're sleeping. 

I want to try to write more about this. I'd like to do an essay on it, but I'm not yet sure what I'd say to differentiate my story from all the rest. 

Man, life is fucking crazy right now. I joke about milking the most out of the hour that I was alone when Adam took Baz to the pediatrician a few weeks ago. But I'm not joking. When I went down to Santa Cruz recently, I soaked it in. But I knew that it wasn't going to last.

This too shall pass. But when?