last week....
I am breathing. For a moment. It was/has not been a good day and I lay the blame squarely on the shoulders of PMS. Not too long ago a report came out saying that pms was basically bupkiss. Not real. A falsehood. Made up. All in our pretty little heads. Well, I'd like to show the writer of that report that my pretty little head is incapable of coping with anything once a month.
It all went downhill the moment I woke up (not very promising as days go) and picked up speed. By the time breakfast was over I was like a loaded down rig with no brakes going down a hill. I wasn't even looking for a brake run out like they have on highways.
Losing my grip is not my favourite pastime. I mean, I live by my feelings (just ask the ol' man) but I'm mostly low key. Just, don't wake the dragon 'k?
Well, Brad woke the dragon. But, let's face it, if he hadn't then it would have been one of the other super heroes I live with. Hell, it could have even been the coffee machine. I was primed to blaze. So the day went on. Brad took Carlon to school which left me to breathe fire on Noah and Iain.
not so great.
we went to a park.
didn't go so well.
we came home and all had naps.
Fire diffused, and Brad wisely went with my suggestion to get myself a coffee, park at Carlon's school and work on this crazy blog while waiting for his day to end.
And so I breathe... and confess my failures as a mom to all of you. Bleah
Sadly, confessing this inadequacy doesn't improve my outlook on my situation. It just magnifies the stupidity in which I handled myself.
And again I breathe...
and get perspective, drink coffee, work out the details of the blog, try to forgive myself, love myself, or, just be ok with myself.
Now I'm thinking about Carlon, and what he will be facing this month. Leaving school, leaving the only home he remembers, leaving cousins, aunties, uncles, grandparents, friends for a completely different turn on things and I want to bawl my eyes out. I lived in the same house my whole childhood. Birth to 27 *ahem...
My parents still live in that house. I have entered into a life where is is quite likely we will live in more than three houses by the time Iain is off to post secondary. I really try not to think about it because I can still barely wrap my brain around this upcoming move. So we will all be at a new address in less than 30 days from today! And I can't afford to let the dragon wake at all between now and ever again. Dragon needs to die for good.
Now all I can think about is Voyage of the Dawn Treader where Aslan scratches the sand to get Eustace back to himself.
But, it's more than that I think... isn't it?
Thursday 10 April 2014
Tuesday 8 April 2014
Done.
Do you ever have those moments where you just can't? You've hit overload and have shut down emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually? You just feel numb. Not even that because then you'd be feeling. You just aren't responding to anything because you just can't.
I have been... assaulted ...it's the best word I can think of... with undesirables. Conflict, anger, independence assertion, tears, confusion, regret, hate, illness.
I am surrounded by littles that demand so much of me that I can't even go to the bathroom in peace. They act like I've disappeared into some black hole or swirling vortex. I can't go downstairs to get something from the garage without someone upset that I won't let them come with me. And if I hear one more person tell me "it's a season" and "I'll miss it when it's gone" I'm gonna kick 'em right in the berries.
This "season" of my life has been hard. So hard for me in fact that I have actually vocalized the desire to go back to the two weeks of hospital bed rest I experienced with our second pregnancy. Those two weeks were the most painful time of my life. Physically and emotionally. I basically was in labour for two weeks and seriously doubted my ability as a mom in a purely visceral sense.
So, why would I want to go back to that?
Because it had an end. You can be pregnant for only so long. 42 weeks. 43 if your doctor is sadistic. Even those two weeks, as exhausting as they were, came to an end.
This particular season I am currently in started two years ago. Two years! There has been little evidence of hope or peace for me. Friends have tried to help me see a bright side but I can't do it. I won't bore you with the list of "oh poor me" cause I know there are literally millions that have it worse and their season is a lifetime.
I am sure that there is an end in sight, I just can't see it right now and this is a problem. We have had a significant event occur in the last two weeks and it should make me excited or feel like things are coming to an end, but all I can see is an extension of the season. Kind of like what most of Canada has been dealing with this winter. Second and third winters to be precise. I am now entering into my third winter. I am hoping it is the last, that it is short, that the sun, when it shines will shine out all the clearer.
If you can't tell, I am tired. Tired of waiting, tired of hoping, tired of...everything. I'm even tired of being tired.
So now there is nothing. I can't even process and if I try it comes out with anger and tears. I am so incapable of expressing myself properly in the moment that I had to write my husband a letter after we'd had an argument.
So where does this leave me? I am..... I don't know. ...grasping at my faith like a cat that misjudged a jump.
I believe Lord.... help me in my unbelief
I have been... assaulted ...it's the best word I can think of... with undesirables. Conflict, anger, independence assertion, tears, confusion, regret, hate, illness.
I am surrounded by littles that demand so much of me that I can't even go to the bathroom in peace. They act like I've disappeared into some black hole or swirling vortex. I can't go downstairs to get something from the garage without someone upset that I won't let them come with me. And if I hear one more person tell me "it's a season" and "I'll miss it when it's gone" I'm gonna kick 'em right in the berries.
This "season" of my life has been hard. So hard for me in fact that I have actually vocalized the desire to go back to the two weeks of hospital bed rest I experienced with our second pregnancy. Those two weeks were the most painful time of my life. Physically and emotionally. I basically was in labour for two weeks and seriously doubted my ability as a mom in a purely visceral sense.
So, why would I want to go back to that?
Because it had an end. You can be pregnant for only so long. 42 weeks. 43 if your doctor is sadistic. Even those two weeks, as exhausting as they were, came to an end.
This particular season I am currently in started two years ago. Two years! There has been little evidence of hope or peace for me. Friends have tried to help me see a bright side but I can't do it. I won't bore you with the list of "oh poor me" cause I know there are literally millions that have it worse and their season is a lifetime.
I am sure that there is an end in sight, I just can't see it right now and this is a problem. We have had a significant event occur in the last two weeks and it should make me excited or feel like things are coming to an end, but all I can see is an extension of the season. Kind of like what most of Canada has been dealing with this winter. Second and third winters to be precise. I am now entering into my third winter. I am hoping it is the last, that it is short, that the sun, when it shines will shine out all the clearer.
If you can't tell, I am tired. Tired of waiting, tired of hoping, tired of...everything. I'm even tired of being tired.
So now there is nothing. I can't even process and if I try it comes out with anger and tears. I am so incapable of expressing myself properly in the moment that I had to write my husband a letter after we'd had an argument.
So where does this leave me? I am..... I don't know. ...grasping at my faith like a cat that misjudged a jump.
I believe Lord.... help me in my unbelief
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