just a late-night rant.

I think I'm finally feeling the panic/weariness/despair that I should have felt four months ago.

Slice is working on a project in Cedar City for a couple weeks, so I'm a single mother to FOUR CHILDREN who are home ALL DAY EVERY DAY thank you summertime. None of them are old enough to be any real help to me, so I basically spend every waking minute feeding, cleaning up after them, or silencing their cries. Forget those planned trips to the library!

In my lower moments I find myself thinking things like, "No one understands! No one else has had four kids in six years, a Type 1 husband and judgmental Type 4 in-laws, adrenal fatigue from an autoimmune disorder, neighbor kids who want to live at their house, plus a yard that grows only weeds, plus [insert nightmare here]!" (Notice I didn't mention Unemployment, that's barely on my stress radar at this point.)

I know that's ridiculous though. Other people have gone through this before, just maybe they didn't see perfect photos of sparkling playrooms and happy children on Instagram all the time. Freaking Internet.

So I'll put myself to bed, and maybe wake up at 3:00 and 6:00 to feed George, and probably force myself out of bed to make breakfast by 8:00. I'll be grateful for my blessings -- not least of which that I've been spared all of this for as long as I have -- because come August 15th, things will be getting much harder.

DUN DUN DUN.