Day 16

I'm struggling with anger today.  A wise lady once told me that when you struggle with anger it generally is because there are things in your life that you have no control over.  And you're mad about it.  And stressed about it.  And clearly not kicking them off to God to deal with.  "Them" being our stressors. 

I'm glad I've been given this wisdom.  I'm glad for people speaking truth into my life.  Can we all do that a little more to and for each other?  Gosh darn it, lets all stop being offended by so much silly stupid stuff.

So I'm angry today.  I don't notice it until I'm just trying to eat my blasted breakfast.  And I can't.  I can't even sit down to cram day 58th's worth of eggs down my throat.  It's constant stupid mothering.  (Read "stupid" right.  I'm not saying mothering is stupid.  I'm saying stupid mothering, as in - break up this fight, clean up the pee that was thrown out of anger, find my cup before I die...)

And before I know it, I'm angry. I'm not angry because I can't eat.  Frustrated, yes.  But the anger comes from that which I can't control.  The stuff where I literally have to take second seat and just wait and watch and hope.  So much hope.

I think the parasites are having a hay-day in my bladder.  It's awesome.  And frustrating.  Waiting, watching, hoping.

The parasites are also effecting my lungs (which I haven't talked about)  Which is 399573 times frustrating.  More waiting, watching, hoping.

As another dear old goat said to me, "I guess I never realized how much truth there is with the 'stress can kill you' "thought/scientifically proven piece of awesome evidence.  Yup, living and breathing (sorta) the dream over here.

So I'm angry and worn down.  It's only Thursday and this week should have had 14 Thursdays in it - according to how slow it's moving.

Side comment/story -  Sometimes God speaks to us directly.  And sometimes very indirectly.  Sometimes gently and sometimes it's like a cold hard slap across the most tenderest of fatty bits on your body.  The past few days I think He's speaking indirectly but very forcefully.  Can that even make sense?  There's no other explanation.

I'm not a good "housewife".  We live like pigs.  We have a semi-picked up house, and that's only because the kids do it.  But cleaned?  Never.  And I think God is trying to make a point.

The first 3 pee piles were awesome.  My floor was starting to look and feel quite clean with all the mopping.  Throwing mother's flipflops through the kitchen while she was cooking dinner and knocking over her FULL glass of fresh lemon water, only brought more joy.  And clean counter stools.  The shattered raw almond jar from the freezer, made me gulp slightly.  That was only $7 worth of almonds that needed to be thrown out.  But at least I got to vacuum my freshly mopped floor.  The cracks between my tiles are so crumb-free and magnificently fine looking.  But the best part of all yesterday, was the fine cherry of a shit storm, on top.  Slash Hansel and Gretel, slash Easter egg hunt, slash how much is God and the entire heavenly host laughing right now, slash this much poop is not possible - unless your kid ate a cup of raisins without chewing.  So I guess that would be swallowing.

I would love to spend more time talking about:

A)  How Big D thinks he could be on the high school girl's swim team.
B)  How the tea I'm drinking tastes like a moldy tampon.
C)  How I found a worm that resembled a chia seed in my underwears.  All rolled up.  And I saved it for Big D.

Also, I ate a sweet potato last night.  I could hear Christmas bells ringing as I was preparing them.  And then when I cut into them to portion out.  Steaming and so sweety soft, I found them riddled with worms.  We each ate a teaspoon worth of worm-free sweet potato.  Which classified last night's dinner officially as Tiny Tim's Christmas Dinner.

PS - writing this much as taken 2 1/2 hours.  That's how wonderful life is over here.