What happens when I can't do it any more? I'm at my juggling capacity. If I try to juggle one more thing, I'll most likely drop all of the other balls I'm trying to keep in the air. Which balls will fall first? Which will fall the hardest? Which will fall and roll away? Kids, job, house, bills, sanity? Which one is it? I'm tired to pretending to have it together. I don't. Things are beginning to unravel at an alarming rate. Today, Grant punched his closet door. He's currently trying to finish two assignments that were due on Friday. Why? Grant has never given me grief about school work. He's always been on top of things. What changed? Then, Dasha made Annie bleed. She decided to pick the hang nails off of Annie's toes and convinced Annie that this was ok. When Annie started screaming and I ran to see what was going on, Dasha just looked up and said she didn't know what happened. Annie quickly told me that Dasha had "picked her skin off." At that point, Dasha started justifying it by saying that the little pieces of skin were bothering her so she decided to take them off. (I'm just counting my blessings that she didn't decide to get the nail clippers and do it). Annie... well, Annie is two and just doesn't understand. The potty training has gone well and accidents have been minimal. Believe it or not, the biggest problem has been getting her to sit down to pee. She wants to perch like a gargoyle on top of the potty. There are some things that I just can't explain. However, I will tell you that a little potty chair will tip over and expel its contents when a child sits on it gargoyle fashion.

I'm just tired of the lonliness of the whole situation. If you have someone's arms to run into and momentarily hide from the world, don't take them for granted. Yeah, my parents help out but if they really knew how close things are to falling to pieces, they'd never stop hovering. They've already raised kids. This is not their job. Their expectations and methods are not what we had in mind for our kids but it's becoming harder and harder to maintain those expectations since I have to rely on them for so much. Our initial expectations are blurring with the leneniancy of their grandparent ways. The kids get confused with what they're supposed to do and what's acceptable. Why can I do that at grandma's but not here? That wasn't a problem when they visited there once or twice a week but when they are there nearly every day, black and white begin to blur to gray.

My wish for tonight... To run into the shelter of someone's arms and be able to let my guard down without fear of everything falling to pieces. Without fear of condemnation. Without fear of judgement. Without fear of losing who I am and who I want to be for the kids. I just want to hear someone say, "It's ok." Even it's a lie. Maybe this sounds really shallow or even silly. I don't care. I can't keep up the charade. Three jobs, three children, one house, financial responsibilities, and trying to figure out who I am through all of this. It's becoming too much.

Good night, all.

Negotiations, Men in the Shower, and Anniversaries



6:30 a.m. "Mama! I wanna eat pamcakes. Let's go downstairs so you can get me some."

7:00 a.m. Quick shower reveals that some sort of skirmish has gone on in my shower over night.

This silly hook doesn't hold my razor like it's supposed to but battling G.I. Joes seem to cling effortlessly to it! Really? I just wanted a simple shower without an entire troop of men monitoring the situation. "Grant! Come get your men out of my shower! Now!"

Then, I discover this poor guy on the table next to the bed. Hmmmm.... Wondering if he pulled his own leg off or if Annie got to him.

"Mama! Look what I found. Can I play sand?" This is what she was discovering while I took a 2.5 minute shower. She also stripped her pants and diaper because they were "too wet." I told her she could have this "prize" if she'd use the potty all day. She immediately began negotiations which lasted all stinking day! At one point, she tried to bargain with me to get the diapers back. At another point, she told me that she'd use the potty if I'd give her the treat first. Seriously? Ok. Go ahead and say it. Most of you are thinking it! She's her father!!!!!! She would argue with a wall if she thought she'd be able to get her own way!

Ok. I give up. If she can change her own clothes, tell me that she's "too wet," and can assume a particular position in a particular place to do her "business," I'll admit that it's past time to potty train. Ugh. I don't want to!

We survived day one of potty training boot camp. And, yes, I handed her prize over at the end of the day. She only had two mishaps so I don't think that's too bad. (Why would any sane parent buy an inside mini sandbox full of purple sand)?

She waited until bed time when I'd put her Pull Up on to take care of her major business, though. When I asked her why she didn't poop in the potty, this was the response I got. If she wasn't so darn cute.... I wonder if the judge is going to see it that way when she messes with the wrong person? Probably not.

So, that was my day minus rebuilding a vaccuum cleaner, rebuilding a dresser drawer that Annie used as a step stool to reach her paci, and doing about sixty five loads of laundry. Whew.

On another note, happy 40th anniversary to my parents! Wow. The story that I'd chosen had that same milestone in it but, obviously, part of my story is having to be rewritten. I'm just hoping for the same sort of happy ending. Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad!

Good night, all.

Hockey Pucks, Poo Cookies, and Lead Weights

Let's see, here's how it all works out so far...

1) No sleep due to a wheezy baby and my own emotions which seem to have grown into a three headed monster and are once again taunting me with visions of sleep but allowing me none.

2) Overwhelming guilt about two epic character fails on my part. I'm not used to screwing up but when I do... dang. (If you were unlucky enough to catch the last post before it was deleted, I'm sorry. That's about all I can say).

3) Trying to cook burgers so the kids could have a real meal that wasn't 100% from a box. Had gas turned too high when I lit the burner and toasted my hair and eyebrows. Hmmmm.... I need a haircut anyway. Guess it's mandatory now.

4) Hamburgers were served as either hockey pucks or bloody. Hard to see what you're doing in the dark.

5) Tried to save myself with the kids by making cookies. They turned out ok but it suddenly dawned on the big kids that the hamburgers and cookies resembled poo patties and, well, though I laughed, I just wanted to throw away my mom card and run away.

6) Had to run to the grocery store to buy litter when I realized I was completely out and the cat had decided she wanted a refill. She filed her complaint in the middle of the office floor multiple times. Left the kids home and occupied to make the quick trip but returned to drama.

7) Finally got everyone in bed only to realize that I don't have a darn thing to give Dasha for her birthday tomorrow. Oh well. I didn't have anything to give Grant last week, either. Maybe I can just call it another new crappy tradition.

8) Crawled in bed with my laptop in order to get some work done (backed up to paramount status) only to flip channels and find "My Best Friend's Wedding." I'd never seen it before. I have now and wish I hadn't. Not what I needed.

9) The sheer magnitude of emotions and questions right now are pulling me down like lead weights. In the beginning of this journey, the emotions were definitely real but they alternated from high to low and were almost surface level emotions which could be quelled by throwing something or screaming. What I'm dealing with now... Nope. I could throw all of the shoes in Payless and it wouldn't help a thing. There are points when I cry out to God and there are days when I scream in anger at Him.

10) Through all of this, I've come to realize that the team I work with at school couldn't ever be replaced. Knowing that seven other insane ladies have your back can make all the difference in the world! We've laughed so hard that our stomachs hurt. We've cried together. We've even discussed... well... I'll never be able to tell those women what they've meant to me over the last... 12 years? Really?... That makes me really old! Anyway, there are definitely bright spots in all of the darkness right now.

So, that's a snap shot of where I'm at.

Good night, all.

Safe

Happy birthday to a 12 year old who knows more about living than most adults

County science fair

Accepting 2nd place in microbiology against a bunch of 12th graders

Annie's first hair cut

 This week was a non-stop barrage of events and escapades. While Grant's birthday and science fair win were definitely high points of the week, they were gut wrenchingly bittersweet, as well. He's 12. He's not looking for my stamp of approval. He simply wants his dad. When I texted Eric a picture of the 2nd place ribbon, Grant got teary eyed and then mad at me for some ridiculous reason. I'm guessing this is what the next few years will look like for me. Next week, we'll celebrate Dasha's 14th birthday and hopefully have a few minutes to catch our breath from the past week. I don't have too much to spill right now. I'm just kind of in a holding pattern. If I move to the left or right, I might just lose my grip and slip off of the edge of solid ground. So, I'll keep still for now until I can regain some strength and process the piles of poo that seem to be building up around my ankles. In one of those piles is a final court date with a little memo attached saying that I'll have to do quite a bit of retelling and talking with the judge and that one session might not put an end to this nightmare that I'm walking through. I may have to be poked, prodded, and tortured a second day (or more) to satisfy the questions and time constraints of this judge. Like I said, I'm going to stand very very still as if I were hunting for rabbits like Elmer Fudd and wait for my strength to return. In my current state, the decisions I make aren't rational. The projects I finish are half-a@@ed. And, my heart just isn't in it right now.

This completely sums up my position right now. I just want to let the guard down and be safe for a while.

To the one who's dreams are falling all apart
And all you're left with is a tired and broken heart
I can tell by your eyes you think your on your own
but you're not all alone

Have you heard of the One who can calm the raging seas
Give sight to the blind, pull the lame up to their feet
With a love so strong he'll never let you go
oh you're not alone

You will be safe in His arms
You will be safe in His arms
'Cause the hands that hold the world are holding your heart
This is the promise He made
He will be with You always
When everything is falling apart
You will be safe in His arms

Did you know that the voice that brings the dead to life
Is the very same voice that calls you to rise
So hear Him now He's calling you home
You will never be alone

These are the hands that built the mountains
the hands that calm the seas
These are the arms that hold the heavens
they are holding you and me

These are hands that healed the leper
Pulled the lame up to their feet
These are the arms that were nailed to a cross
to break our chains and set us free

 Good night, all.

Unraveling...

Disclaimer: This has not been spell checked, grammar checked, or even reread. This is the raw truth as it came out of my brain and oozed through my fingers.

No, I haven't fallen off the face of the Earth. I'm still here but seem to be hanging by a thread. Here's the quick version. Maybe the full length version will come when things settle down but I wouldn't hold your breath on that one! I don't think things will settle down here for the next 18 years.

1) Christmas was a blur. I survived it and the kids did, as well. The decorations came back down in an uneventful manner and were tossed into the garage where they're still piled up.

2) Dasha got sick first. I took her to the doctor and they said that it was just a cold. Then, a few days after Christmas, Annie got sick. I started to make my ususal assumption that it was a cold and just try to treat it at home. However, since it was the day before New Year's, I went ahead and took her to the doc just to have it checked out. They asked their normal quesitons including, "Is she wheezing?" Of course, I answered, "No." Why would I screw around with a wheezing child? That's what landed us in the trauma bay at Scottish Rite with Ansley. I'm no dummy. However, after the doctor listened to her, she pronounced that she was in fact wheezing. At that point, the room started to spin for me. I don't think I've ever felt quite that alone. There I was imagining walking the same road we did with Ansley but alone. My imagination went wild. I was handed a small mask connected to a nebulizer and told to hold it over Annie's little screaming face until the medicine was gone. I knew the drill all too well. I'd done this a million times with Ansley. The moment the nurse left, I joined Annie and cried like a baby, too. The what-if monsters had their way with me in that little treatment room. That was an all time low for me. After finishing the treatment and rechecking her pulse-ox, we were written a myriad of prescriptions and dismissed. Talk about kicking you when you're down, after dropping off the prescriptions, I realized that I couldn't pay for them - even after insurance benefits. They were all Tier 3 drugs and... well, that's just the truth of it. I can't begin to tell you what it feels like as a grown mother of 3 to have to ask your parents to buy your child's medicine. Humbling doesn't even touch the situation.

3) So, with Dasha and Annie sick, Grant was bound to get it too. Yep. He ended up having to go to the doctor and get a prescription too.

4) With this particular bug that everyone has, coughing seems to attack in the middle of the night. I haven't slept through the night in over three weeks. I've been awakened by sounds of coughing, choking, gaging, and puking. My armor is wearing thin at this point.

5) Then, there's Dasha. I honeslty don't know what to do. While I'm purging my deepest thoughts here, I'll go ahead and tell you the truth of the battles with Dasha lately. She's learned to manipulate. When things don't go her way, she has learned the art of making everything someone else's fault - especially Annie's. "Dasha, how did this CD player get back into your room. I put it in my closet last night?" Dasha says, "Annie wanted to listen to music and went and got it." Annie says, "I did not get it. You went and got it and told me to dance with you." Suprisingly enough, Annie has learned to dispute some of the claims. After a complete meltdown last weekend and a string of lies, I'd had enough. I sat her in the hallway with a book to read while I did laundry. She began banging the wall like an animal and screaming that she hated me and hated living in this house. I snapped. Lack of sleep, lack of help, and lack of general sanity had weakened my nerves and I simply snapped. I picked her up, tossed her over my shoulder (all 100 pounds of her) and hauled her downstairs and onto the front porch. I plopped her down and said to her, "You don't have to stay here if you don't want to." Real mature, huh? As I turned around, the look on Grant and Annie's faces literally brought me to my knees. We all stood there looking at Dasha sitting on the porch still ranting and raving. What am I supposed to do with her? Many people laugh and say, "Oh, those teen years." No. That's not acceptable. Just because she's a teenager, she's not going to yell and scream at me and be disrespectful. I don't care what her "special" needs are. That's just not going to happen. I opened the door for her to come back in. She spent the rest of the day doing odd chores that I found for her. I'm simply at a loss. Some days, there's no drama. But, more than often, something is going to fly through the air whether it's her yelling or a hair brush. Argh. This is not the ride I signed up for.

6) In an attempt to save some of my remaining sanity, I decided to go with a couple of friends to walk around the outlets this weekend. I found a sitter and left. I simply needed a break. However, I will admit here what I've admitted to only one other person. A few friends had tried to set me up with a "friend" of theirs and kept bugging me to meet him. They'd given him my number (I may still kill them all) and he'd called a couple of times. I asked a teammate what I should do and she encouraged me to just go have some adult conversation. So, I agreed. (Strike one for me). I met the guy on Saturday at a local sandwich shop. I had the sense to make sure it was a very public place and mid-day. I didn't tell anyone other than that one friend where and what I was doing. Please remember that I haven't been out with anyone other than Eric - ever. First date was with him and that was it. I don't have any experience in this realm. So, the guy comes in and introduces himself and that was as good as it got. Every other word made me sink down further in my seat. I've heard of guys with the mouth of a sailor but this guy would have made a sailor blush. Then, he started with the racial remarks. I knew I had to escape but I hadn't planned an exit route. Duh. I did have to meet my friends a bit later but that was a couple of hours later and I couldn't take it that much longer. So, I lied. I'm admitting it to everyone. I lied. I picked my phone up, pushed a couple of buttons, and then told him I needed to leave because one of my kids was sick. If you want to get technical, all three of them were sick but I'm not even going to justify it. And, looking back, why didn't I have the nerve to simply get up and walk out and tell him he'd do well to go and gargle some Clorox? What I really didn't expect was his octopus-like moves as I left. He made out like it was to be a hug but, um, well, no. All I knew to do was jump backwards and walk out the door. If this is what the dating world is like, I'll go to my grave single and feel safe knowing that I won't have to worry about rouge hands grabbing what is defnitely not theirs. This guy was supposedly a "good, church going gentleman, whose wife left him a few years ago." Ha. With moves like that, he hasn't been in any church that I'd frequent. Those are moves you'd pick up from watching COPS not at church! The realization of the mess I could have gotten myself into and the what-if monsters tourmented me for the rest of the afternoon. I didn't tell the girls I met what my issue was. I just told them that I wasn't feeling too well. At that point, it sure wasn't a lie.

7) No. It hasn't been all gloom and doom but I really do feel like I'm hanging on by the skin of my teeth. With all three kids sick, school work closing in around me, and the feeling of being a complete fool on Saturday, I'm just ready to crawl into bed and stay there for a few weeks. The major bright spot in all of this was that after my yearly physical this moring, I managed to reach a weight loss goal that I really didn't think was possible. I don't know how it happened between the Pop Tarts, Dora the Explorer cereal, and holiday goodies. Nonetheless, I'm thankful and will take some time at some point to celebrate my goal.

So, for all of you who've emailed wondering what happened to me, this is what I've been wading through. I could make a list of 50 things that I've learned over the last month and I know that all of those lessons are valuable but... When can I have a break?