I don’t know why I am posting anything except that sometimes it helps me to clear my head. I wish I knew what is making me feel the way I do, but I just don’t know. I feel so alone. My house is a wreck, just like it always is. My kids are supposed to be in bed for naps and instead they are making all kinds of noise and messes. And its Saturday and I have no plans. I will be here alone with my kids again, all weekend long. I have a package that I want to send to Derick but I don’t know if I will get the chance to leave my house. Its just too cold to get the kids out again. (I did hair for a bride this morning. I had to take my kids along, and that was not a good idea.)
Bible Study starts a week from Tuesay. I’m supposed to teach, well… fascilitate a study. Maybe I just feel like this because of the Bible Study. Maybe Satan is just trying to get me down. I don’t know. I was such an emotional basketcase when I was pregnant with my boys. And somehow I feel like the hormones and emotions are running wild again. I have no motivation to do anything. I don’t want to clean my house because it doesn’t matter. No one is gonna see it except my kids, and they don’t care. I don’t want to fix dinner because my kids would just as soon have hot dogs than something good. Some days, I don’t even want to shower because it doesn’t matter. I’m not going anywhere and no one is coming over to see me. (I do force myself to shower at least everyother day.) And I cry everyday. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
My kids are making me go out of my mind. I have spanked each of them with a paddle 3 times this afternoon, because they aren’t laying down for nap time. Instead they are laughing and screaming and making a mess. Why bother spending an hour cleaning when they will just tear it up again in 10 minutes. Sometimes I read blogs or articles of people that are truly hurting. They speak so eloquently, with metaphors that make me feel their pain deep in my soul. I am not one of those. I cannot, at this point, put into words the kind of despair that I feel at this time. Yet at the same time, I have a friend that has so much more reason to hurt than me. After 17 weeks of pregnancy she has to bury her baby boy. How does loneliness and rowdy, disobedient kids and a messy house compare to that. I am done having kids so that is a pain that I will never know, but I ache for her. Then, of course, I feel worse because I know that I chose my circumstances and I knew it would be hard to be separated from Derick, so I shouldn’t feel bad. I chose this.
An hour later:
I don’t know… I give up. I don’t know how to handle my own kids. Spanking doesn’t seem to work. I don’t know what privileges to take away. We don’t have that many special events in our house. I packed up the dvd player and all the movies and moved them to my room. And I finally told them that they are both going to bed at 6:30 tonight. I don’t think I can handle them until 830. Is there anyone that cares?