Dear Diary, May 31st 2011

Dear Diary,

Who the heck did I upset to deserve this?

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I mean really.

I’m okay with a bad day. I’m even okay with whiney kids.

The drawer in the bathroom full of sticky bottles where the baby’s gripe water leaked? I was okay with that too.

Until I noticed the gripe water was full of ants. Apparently child proof caps can’t stop a hoard of colicky ants.

I held my cool while hunting the possible black widow spider in the garage (that was never found).

I managed to not throw up as my children drew pictures of the antennaed multi legged stripy big eyed bug they found in their bathroom- that apparently got away as well.

The tears from the emotional nine year old? Swiped, calmed and kissed.

The hour long cryfest from the baby over nothing? Consoled.

Today was sucking but I was making lemonade….and then this happened.

This figurine that I have had and glued and pieced together for at least 25 years was destroyed when the pegboard I so proudly blogged about last night fell.

As I was cuddling my sleeping toddler girl with the baby sleeping on a big pillow at my feet, the velcro strips gave way and it all came crashing down.

The velcro didn’t, but the sticky part did. It just didn’t adhere. The strips are rated to hold the weight but when Mr. gets home that will be the first thing he comments on, how I had so much on there.

But it wasn’t the velcro, it was the sticky part that failed me.

I counted my blessings that none of the sewing machines were damaged, or the wall, or the peg board and then I cried.

I feel things crawling on me constantly even when there is nothing there. Peanut and I are covered in bug bites. I have resorted to fighting off ants with furniture polish. I have wasted a day and a half trying to put out emotional fires from my kids. Now I’m feeling like a slob, and a failure, and I have retreated under my rock.  My ability to filter my thoughts before they come out my mouth was faltering and it seemed best to log out of my favorite hang outs and hide.

Sincerely,

The Tattered Tadey

No Time for Tears

I will forever be amazed when I see God’s hand at work in my life.  I love looking back and seeing how His perfect plans heal my heart.
As a freshman in college, I dreaded the fall season.  School would begin.  The warm weather would fade away.
Quiet lonely nights gave me time to wallow in painful memories.  My first experience with death had been in the fall.  I was fifteen and I took it hard. My best lost her battle with cancer the fall of our senior year.  She had just been awarded an Honorable Diploma.  We knew it was happening, but that didn’t help with the pain.
I moved away from my first real group of friends in the fall.  I lost my first job in the fall.  For years, those three months stood for nothing but heartache and disappointment.
And then…
God.
I met the man that would make me “Mrs. B” in October.
Our first child was born in October.
Our second child joined our little family in September.
Our sweet number three arrived late in August, technically still summertime; however, her birthday serves as a catalyst for the months of madness ahead of me.
God’s sweet and perfect plan but blessings upon blessings in the fall, like a great salve on old wounds.  The season now passes so quickly for me; I almost miss it entirely.