Sundays
I don't like to go into a lot of personal detail on my blog. Okay, we ALL know that's not true, but as far as myself, my family, my friends, I generally don't. But today I can't figure out how to blog without just saying what I want to say, need to say. It's been a really long week full emotional highs and lows. Really, really bad days followed by really, really good ones. I am so emotionally worn out. I'm tired. I'm tired and I don't know what to do.

Today is Mother's Day. Today is my anniversary. Today is Sunday. Sunday's are hard for me. I'm generally emotional for several reasons. Like, how totally unworthy I feel to be in worship. Like how hard it is for me to do so many things as a family of three, instead of a family of four, bc my husband is either working, or in bed in pain. And today was one of those days. I woke up late. He was moaning in pain as I rolled out of bed and I knew he wouldn't be able to go to worship. I rushed to get the kids up and ready and out the door. We were ten minutes late leaving, and about five minutes into the drive I realized today is my anniversary. Today. Today is Mother's Day, and I'm fighting kids alone. On my anniversary. It may not sound like much. Even as I fought back the tears, it felt trivial. But it had ALREADY been a long, hard week. I feel so weak and defenseless right now. Like every little thing that comes along tears me up a little bit more. Every song we sang in worship this morning had me crying for a different reason.

Yesterday I was angry and numb. I think that was the prelude to this day of mass hysteria in my head. I just don't have any more defenses to fight back all of the emotions and hurt and anger and fear. My parents came for a while, but they're gone now, and secretly I'm glad they are. I don't really want to be around when 'he' calls to wish her a Happy Mother's Day. I don't want to hear his voice, but he's so very real in my head right now. So very present and I hate it.

I think I'm going to treat myself to a hot bath, some classical music and a candle. Maybe I can get all this sorted out in my head. Love to all.
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  • I'm a wife. I'm a mom. I'm a photographer. I'm a lover of Jesus. My house is a mess, my kids are dirty, we eat take out more often than not. My life is loud, busy and crazy. And that's okay with me.
    This is Eric, the man you've been praying for. He's a paramedic. He quilts in his spare time. No, I couldn't make that up :) He has NASH (a form of liver disease, non-alcoholic) and diabetes, but those things don't define him. He's a man of God, an insanely wonderful husband, and the best daddy in the world.. Just ask these guys..
    Our daughter Ali, she's 9. She's fiercely opinionated and strong willed. She's a Daddy's girl, but the umbilical cord hasn't but cut from me, either. She's a gymnast, and proud of it. She spends more time upside down or turning flips than she does walking. She's crazy smart, and absolutely sure of it. She is my insufferable little know it all.
    Our son Dylan, 7. We lovingly refer to him as Chubs. Or Chubby. Or fat boy. Ahem. He is all boy, as you can see by his crazy wild energy. He has the highest pain tolerance of any child I have ever met. He plays soccer and does gymnastics, but truly he is a gamer, a nerd. He is an avid reader and loves to climb. Not to be outdone by his sister, he's a drama king, but to him, I'm the best mommy in the world.