Well, That Was Fun

Today was a miraculously bad day. I'm thinking one of the top 10 worst days I've had. This year.

Let's not go into micro-details, for that would help no one. But suffice it to say, I was at one point sitting in tears asking if God could just please give me a month, a week, a day without special needs in my life.

My head pounding, my 18-year-old's rock band practicing in the basement (and our walls and floors are apparently made of something similar to tissue paper), my 6-year-old autistic son screaming and kicking his bedroom door instead of picking up the clothes on his floor - and my 11-year-old decides it would be a super neat idea to randomly spray sunscreen all over the glass doors leading to the screen porch. And then deny doing it. Over and over. While my head spins around on my shoulders preparing to explode.

Having all boys is like no other thing on earth. Having all boys each with his own diagnosed neurological issues is like no other thing in this universe. I know I'm not the only one going through it, but I'm the only one I know going through it.

I know. I know. I was chosen for this role. Long before I was born, God had his plan for me all laid out. Mrs. Zipps tells me that even though it doesn't feel like it, I'm doing a good job. (I made her stay on the phone with me today for an agonizingly long time while I came unglued at the seams dealing with Seth).

I'm not feelin' it right now. Perhaps after a (good?) night's sleep, life will feel different. At least I'll be one day closer to heaven.

"Our struggles are times to grow."