Just when you think you know it all...or a least something...Ah, forget it.

So after having two kids, you have a few tricks up your sleeve, a few tools in your belt. Then you have Number Three and God thinks it's funny that you think you know what's going on. 
This week has been momentous in the life of The Babe.  He has gotten tooth #2, learned how to crawl AND how to pull up to his feet. He has been very close to crawling for some time now, he just hasn't been able to put it all together.  Who woulda thought that something as simple as a stuck toy would make the gears click? 

Now that he's officially mobile, he has decided that he's going to venture out into the big, wide world: The Kitchen. He only crossed the threshold into the kitchen twice before, even though he could army-crawl very well.  Today he is my shadow at the sink. 

At our old house, there was a small, definite path to and from the kitchen.  One gate and three closed doors later, the Family Room was a baby-safe area.  Here at the new house, the space is slightly too large for a gate, so here comes Babe.  Luckily, there is a pocket door at the top of the stairs, so I don't have to worry about that. 

I remember Maddie learning how to crawl. I got home from work and Ryan showed me mauled pink rubber ducky.  He had let her chew it as a "treat" when she would crawl correctly.  He was SO PROUD!  It took her longer to crawl than Owen, maybe 8 or 9 months because she could roll everywhere so well that she really didn't care to learn.  I don't know where she gets her stubbornness from.  Owen is at the age where I can't remember anything from Ben.  I was in a cast and miserable and I know I wrote some stuff down, but poor kid, mommy was not in her right mind.  I do  know that he was earlier, closer to 6 months.  Owen splits the difference of everything Maddie and Ben did.  Maddie got her tooth at 6 months, Ben at 8, Owen at 7.  I could have predicted it. 

The Babe is also not sleeping quite through the night. His sibs were by and before 6 months.  So I'm still feeling the sleep deprivation.  He actually slept better at 3 months!
He doesn't eat baby food.  Nothing pureed or mushy.  I felt bad about not making it myself for Maddie and Ben, and when I do make it for Owen, the kid won't eat it. Huh. So much for Mommy guilt.  He also learned his pincer grasp on Thursday. Now he can feed himself, which is awesome.  Here we come, Cheerioland!!

 It's amazing how cool it is to watch something you made grow into a person.  It's frustrating, challenging, exhausting, but at the end of 18 years, maybe we'll get a break.  And hopefully we've done a good enough job that we won't have to worry.  Or not too much.  Who'm I kidding? I will never stop worrying!!

Internal Clock.

I've always liked to sleep. 

The problem is, whether I've slept 6 hours or 16, I never feel quite refreshed. I always have to drag myself out of bed. 

I love the feeling, at the end of the day, when you turn out your lights and lay in silence between the cool sheets.  There is no place like your bed.

So I wrestle myself out of bed each morning by 7:30 (usually I've already been awake for a while, either due to nursing or waking up when Ryan leaves at 6:30. Those are bad mornings, when I fall asleep again riiiight about 7:25).  I wake Maddie, who wakes up similar to me, like a hibernating bear.  Ben pops up like a spring, ready for the day. Funny. Ryan sleeps like a dead person, but wakes easily, and I sleep so lightly that ANYTHING wakes me, but wake (for good) hard. Our kids are mixed. Maddie has it the worst, sleeping like Ryan, waking like me. Bennett is lucky, sleeping lightly but waking easily. 

As soon as Morning Routine is done, I want to take a nap. At 8:45.

I never can get going. All morning I laze around, trying to get some energy or motivation to do ANYTHING. 

Around 1 pm I start getting in my groove. I am the only person I know who works out and showers at night.  If I manage to get them done in the morning, it's all I manage to do all day! 

I feel like my internal clock is set wrong, Don't get me wrong, it's a good clock. It wakes me up at exactly the time I want to wake up, but it only awakens my mind, not my body. 

I wish I could be a morning person, but I just can't fight it.  And the world revolves around the "bright and early".  I've thought about getting a job at a coffee place, but I think I might just die if I had to be at work by 5 a.m.  Caffeine has little to no effect on me.  I just have to accept the fact that I am a slow starter, that I will never look around at 10:30 and sigh with happiness at my accomplishments. 

Right, like my house is ever clean. 

Blessings

Hm. I'm full of beautiful phrases and eloquence in the space between consciousness and sleep.  I wake up and it's gone.  Yeah, I could keep a journal by my bed...but turning on the light is ill advised, especially when it takes so long for me to fall asleep in the first place. Plus I'm lazy. 
I feel like I'm getting to a good place. I feel like having Owen (and all that lead up to him) have helped me be satisfied. Nothing is perfect, everything is hard, but my life is inherently blessed. Each one of our friends who is in the same "stage" of life has their own problems. We all struggle with discipline, money, time, none of us seems to have enough of any of those. And yet, we all have love. 
A few weeks ago, one family's father lost his job. While at first, it seemed like a crushing blow to the family, the couple, his ego, they have realized that it was probably the best thing that could have happened. The job's hours were dragging them down, putting unneeded stress on the family. Since then, both parents have been happier, kids are more secure, less problems all around. They decided to look at it as a blessing.  I'm trying to see the events in my life as blessings as well, regardless of how challenging.

Mamma's don't get no sick days.

Crapity crap. I have a sinus infection. And yet....

I got up early to feed the baby, get kids up and ready for school, one on the bus, two in the car for preschool, Oops, almost forgot to brush my teeth, my face hurts so bad. Drop one off, get one down for nap, have brother over, pick up from preschool, have lunch with mother in law and help her drop off the (our) van at the dealer. snacks, nursing, entertaining, answering 7 zillion questions, diaper changes, getting OFF the bus. Oh, did I mention my head has consistently felt like it was going to explode??

Part of my problem is that I so rarely get sick.  There needs to be a service for sick Mom's. But who could do YOUR job?  Usually, not even your husband. There is NO one who has it down like you. No one can answer the questions, find the homework, NOT make chicken nuggets because only one kid likes them.  It is practically impossible to parent from the bedroom. You might as well lay on the couch. In that case, you might as well so the dishes because you KNOW there isn't anyone that is going to do them!  


I need to do so about 438 things, but I feel like I have some extra gravity holding me down right now. I can barely keep my eyes open. Not because I'm tired, but for some reason they just keep closing.  I can't take meds because of nursing, and even when I did, guess what? didn't help.  I know taking a hot shower would help clear me up, at least temporarily, but I don't trust my legs for that long. I know I need to pack up Maddie for school tomorrow, but I don't have to make her lunch, so her snack and water bottle and folder can wait til the morning. Oh, yeah, the morning. After NOT getting a real full nights sleep, I'll get up, get Maddie off and go volunteer at her school in the library. Because I said I would, so I'll be there.  Because who else will if I don't??

Dinnertime Conversations: School Edition.

Daddy: Ben! You're going to school soon? What are you going to do there, pick up chicks? 
Ben: Yeah!! With Uncle Josh!  
Mommy: Ben, whats a chick?
Ben: You know, like a bird in an egg? Before we pick up chicks we should go dig for some worms. 

Daddy: Maddie, what are you going to do if a boy kisses you?
Maddie: KISS HIM BACK!
Daddy:!!!!!!
Maddie: (laughs until she cries)

Mommy: Ben, what will you do if one of your friends takes one of your toys?
Ben: Oh! Thats one of the TEN (holding up ten fingers)!!
Maddie: Yeah! (sings) ♪ Ten Commandment boogie gonna dance until I die Ten commandment boogie You can do it so can I!♪
Ben: They shouldn't steal from me! 
Mommy: What do you tell them?
Ben: Give it back to me.  Please.

Best laid plans.

E

Ever plan a day out with your kids?  You plan meals, times, driving, budget.  You pour your precious time into making a fun, educational, tear-free time.  

First, the baby needs to see the doctor.  So it pushes us back a few hours.  No biggie.  But the cost of being us all night with him is waking up an hour later than I planned.  Well, I can forgo the shower.  Call the doctor, appointment is about an hour later than expected.  Ok, well that makes up for the sleeping-in time and, Hey! I have time for a shower now!  Feed the baby, quietly get in the shower, because the big kids are still sleeping, strangely enough.  But as I start washing my hair, I hear screaming.  Apparently, they big kids are awake and have christened the new day by fighting over the computer.  I should have gone back to bed.  

After waiting (and waiting.  They fit me in, so I shouldn't complain), Owen has an ear infection.  First of any of my kids. Goodie!  In the car, Owen is screaming, Ben is requesting we go home because of the need to play Mario "Wii-hii",  No, we're going to the Dino museum.  We don't want to go to see the dinos!  Too bad.  We are GOING to have fun, and we're almost there.  

We get in the building, "OOO! turtle skeletons! Look, Mommy there are---I want to go home." I literally have to grab Ben's shirt to stop him from running out.  He is afraid of the T-Rex.

 We have a meltdown about chips in the cafe.  Owen decides, while Ben is screaming, that it is a good idea to join him.  I would like to cry as well. We have only seen about 1/4 of the museum and I'm done.  

What happened to my good intentions? Don't they realize I am trying to have FUN with them?  Why is it so hard?  It makes me not want to leave the house!

First Fruits

My garden has finally started to produce, though we have had a few peas and beans. Yellow pear tomatoes, beefmaster tomatoes, dill, rosemary and a pepper

My makeshift mortar and pestle, with olive oil, rosemary and dill.  I don't usually like Rosemary, but it the aroma of the herb was so intense and amazing.  I have never smelled it like that before!

Pepper. It smelled so sweet!

Red, white and purple potatoes (store bought), onions, yellow pear tomatoes and the pepper, drizzled with olive oil and kosher salt.  Rack of lamb with white pepper, kosher salt and the rosemary/dill/oil rubbed on the inside.

mmmmm

Life goes by...

...so quickly.  In two days it will be August, and the last month before school starts again.  I was bound and determined to DO things this year, and so far I am doing really well.  We have Zoo'd,

Farm'd, Playground'd, Splash Park'd,

Had a concert,

 had a baptism,

  Vacationed at the beach,

 swam at the pool,

 visited with family,

went to vacation bible school,  gone to too many birthday parties to count and had a few of our own...WHEW~ Today we visited the Stony Creek Nature Center, which was very different from the LAST time we were there when Maddie was 3 and Ben was 0.We went with Sara and Michael and William and saw a snapping turtle eat goldfish. Ben said "He ate them and RIPPED them apart and parts of the fishies were FLOATING!".  Then we went on a walk and fed the fish pretzels.  Maddie, Ben and Michael put their hands together and shouted "Bird Watchers!" except Michael shouted "ROCK STAR!!"

I am watching all of my children grow by leaps and bounds in the past 6 weeks.  Maddie turned 6.  She is tall and elegant with her golden tan and sun-blonded hair.  For her birthday she told me to "surprise her" and when Grammy asked her what she would like, she said, "You always get me such nice things, whatever you pick is fine".  

Ben is...Ben. He is constantly in motion. He love his baby brother with his teeth bared.  Literally.  Like he has so much love he can't hold it in.  Scares me a little!  He is tanner than I'll EVER be and always has to be "Mario" when they play an imagination "Game".  He can write his name and recognise many letters.  He CANNOT wait to go to school. 

Owen is growing steadily, though he is my smallest baby at 14 lbs, 1 oz as of July 16.  I think he grew last night, though because he feels heavier.  He has rolled over and can grab things and SHOVE them in his mouth.  He still has a mohawk.  He love to eat and to have attention paid to him.  His giggles are like fuel for my tired brain.  He mostly sleeps through the night, and I am the most blessed mamma ever.

I'm glad I write these things down. I probably won't remember what we did next summer!  I'm also glad I write a journal for each of them.  It helps me recall those funny things that I didn't remember and hopefully, one day, we can sit down and share the memories. 

My Garden

As a child, one of the most exciting times of the year was getting the garden ready with my dad.  We'd toil in the dirt, go to the nursery for plants, get them in the ground and then waterwaterwater until harvest.  We had oodles of tomatoes and cucumbers.  Farther back, we helped Grandpa in his garden, picking raspberries (watch out for the bees!) and other things he had in a small garden in his backyard in Warren.  This is the first year I'm planting my own, with the exception of a few potted plants on the deck at the condo.  Oddly enough, I came across a picture of the "first" tomato I ever picked from my own little potted garden.  The date on the picture is July 22, 2003, one year to the day before my first real baby was born.

These are some pictures of my little garden at home, built with love by ryan for mother's day.

Tomatoes

We have a ton of animals...so far so good

Yellow pear tomatoes

Onions

Peas

peppers

These were here when we moved in, I'm not sure what they are.

Making my way back to Me

This last pregnancy dragged me to the depths.  I counted every second until he was born, and practically did nothing else.  Tick Tock. It consumed me.  Everything suffered. My children, my home, my relationships. I wasn't me.  I was The Incubator.  Don't get me wrong, My baby was one of the most important things on earth to me, but somewhere along the way I put Me down to carry the weight of the baby. 

Now that Owen is here, we've developed a routine and settled in, I need to find Me again.  This weekend, during a rare moment out with my husband he said he missed "You and Me".  I replied that I wasn't sure there was a Me anymore.  Then I decided to find Her.

This seems like a selfish attitude, but it's not. This is for him, for Maddie and Ben and Owen.  There's a book called "If Mama Goes South, We're All Going with Her", and thats what I feel has happened. I need to get back to the place where God intends me to be, on the ball, under control, able to cope.  I'm not there right now.

But I'm working on it.  I have never been a very motivated person.  Some would call me lazy.  But in my heart, I HATE having a messy house.  I just don't know where to start.  So Yesterday, I made a list (I love lists).  I worked hard and got most of my stuff done.  It also helped that the kids were angels.  I tried to give myself slack for not completing everything.  I do have a few (three) things that get in the way, and demand attention (every three hours for 25 minutes), so my conditions are not ideal.  I am Not Perfect.  I cannot Do Everything.  I will Stay Motivated.  (I need a Nap). 

I continued today and my kitchen is clean.  I give myself small goals, last week I tried to keep one side of my counter completely cleared off.  (not an easy feat, we have an insanely small area of counter space).  This week it's both sides of the sink.  I'm trying to keep the small counter cleaned off too, but I won't "require" it of myself for a few days.  It's clean now because of a party, and I'm trying to keep it that way. 

I'm also working on my body.  Three kids and stretchmarks up to my eyeballs later, I'm NOT happy.  Trying clothes on this weekend put me thisclose to tears.  Today is the first day of a new challenge for me.  But I have issues, nursing requires more calories,and any type of jumping is practically out of the question, unless I duct tape my breasts down.  Time is also an issue, chasing the big kids and having Owen gives me long enough to do about 7 minutes of anything.  But I'm gonna try, I'm gonna do my best.

Lastly, I'm focusing on my spirit.  Both my spiritual self, and the relationship with God, (which has also been lacking, though I do a LOT of praying right now) and my own spirit, who I  am.  I got a Kindle for my birthday, and I love it.  I am an information seeker. I read voraciously, and now is not the best time to have any time to fill the space.  I need to read.  Though I still love to hold the pages in my hand, smell the ink on the pages, the Kindle allows me to turn pages with one hand, balance it on my knee, hold my place.  In a few days, I've read a ton already, and feeling more stimulated by it. I can read 5 or 6 books at a time (as I am prone to do) and not chase them down when I want them. 

I have taken my Bible out of my car (for small group! I always forget it, so I leave it in there) and opened it up next to me.  Pastor Tim suggested Ps. 139 23-24, and I'm going to take it to heart, seeking to be led when He wants me to go. 

I worry that I'm trying to do too many things at once.  But I hope I can make it without getting too frustrated in the set-backs.  The timing is good; summer started, new year for me, I feel fresh.  Time to get started.

Mothers Prayer

Dear God, Thank you for this day.
Thank You for all my comforts; all I have is by Your hand.
Grant me patience, creativity, grace, laughter, and the ability to handle the responsibilities You have given me.
Thank You for the tiny hands and the tiny hearts that You have entrusted me with.
Bless my struggles, Lord. I know they only strengthen me.
Ease my fears when my inadequacy and inability overwhelm me.
Thank You for the gifts of Love I receive every day. Through them, I am better able to know the Love You have for me.
Guide my path, use my words and actions, let it be all for you.
Amen 

The Rocking Chair

My mom and her husband are moving.  Well, less moving than an extended working vacation.  She is following him around at his new job, which is located in Texas, then Vegas, then California; for now. My mother lives with few material possessions, she lives lightly and is packing up her belongings for storage for when she returns in the future.  She asked me to take two pieces of furniture that she didn't want to put into storage, a hope chest of her grandmother on her father's side, and a rocking chair from her mother's mother.      

Jim brought over the chair today and I put it in Owen's room, because I don't have a chair to rock him in.  I have sat in this chair many times, most recently last week at mom's house.  But today, in my house, with my child, I had a thought.  I wondered if my grandmother ever thought her great granddaughter would be rocking her great-great grandson in this chair? 

I knew my great-grandmother Throckmartin, the first Mary (that I know of).  She was over 40 when she had my grandmother, the second Mary, but she lived to be 95.  Oddly enough, grandma Mary Alice died when she was only 59.  I remember Great-grandma pushing me in her wheelchair (that she didn't really need) at the nursing home.  According to my grandfather, she was not a pleasant woman, but to me, she was a tiny old woman who lived in a tall building and couldn't hear when she took her hearing aids out. I don't really know much about her, born Mary Plafchan around 1896, married in 1919 to Andrew Kubina, had Jennie and Andy.  Her first husband died, and in her 40's, married Roy Throckmartin a police officer originally from Indiana.  I have a feeling that she was not thrilled to be pregnant with my grandma. 

But I think of her as a woman my age, with a young daughter, a baby son.  Did she rock her baby as she nursed him and look deep into his eyes, imagining his future? Were the strains of motherhood making her tired?  The '20's weren't an easy time to be a mother, handwashing diapers, clothes, cooking with no modern conveniences.  I think I have it hard now, but I'm sure any mom back then would be in heaven if she were in my shoes. 
This Grandma is the first, while my daughter is the fifth "Mary".  My mom was called "little" Mary, my grandma Mary Alice, myself the only not official Mary, and my own daughter, Mary Madeline.  I am proud to be in this lineage of women, proud to have passed on the legacy of a strong, beautiful name, proud to sit in the same chair and rock my child. 

Time

And it's been a long December and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can't remember all the times I've tried to tell myself
To hold on to these moments as they pass...

This winter, I sat in my front window looking at the bleak sky and the leaf-less tree.  I remember thinking ahead to leaves and sun and son. Now I sit and see the mature tree, the bright blue sky, hear the shouts of my children playing in the sprinkler on the grass, feel the warm air blowing over me.  It was a LONG winter.  My day-dreams of sweet baby breath and branches beginning to bud have been realized. 

It's amazing how long that winter's day seemed, and how long ago.  My tiny baby is 7 weeks, and my other babies are growing like weeds as the days pass by.  I felt like I was pregnant forever, and now that I won't be again, I should try to remember the wonderful things about it; feeling him hiccup, watching him roll around.  But happily, most of those unpleasant memories are blocked out by the fact that he is a sweet baby, cubby and smiley with his crazy mohawk of curly hair.  I pick him up and he puts his arms around my neck and squeezes with all his baby might.  My heart (and body) forget all the pain and sleeplessness he's caused, I am only in love, in this moment.   

Invisible

My job as a stay-at-home mom  is to make everything invisible.  The goal is to make it seem like no one lives here.  No dishes on the counter, no clothes in the hamper, no dust on the TV.  No one uses these things.  One person (me) has the job of making our house seem like there are no inhabitants.  I spend the days undoing the signs of our existence, only to have it redone.  WHY? Then I figured it out. 
We DO live here!!
As neat and tidy as I make it, as many hours as I put in scrubbing on my hands and knees, it will never end, I will never have a clean house.  BECAUSE WE LIVE HERE. 
I cleaned the kitchen before a visit from my cousin this weekend and before she came we had to eat lunch.  So immediately there were dishes, crumbs and (eek!) children eating food at the table! They get crumbs on the floor.  They get stains on the chairs.  I could try to put them in bubbles, but they'd just get fingerprints on them.
I have a hard time justifying an hour long task that will be immediately undone as soon as I finish. I get extremely frustrated.  I like to see the results of my hard work.  Knowing it will have to be redone makes me want to not do it. 

To Be

moth·er

NOUN: A woman who conceives, gives birth to, or raises and nurtures a child.

My entire life I have wanted to be a "mom".  When you're small, you don't see the trials and tribulations of the day-to-day, only the kisses, the soft skin, the tiny arms around your neck.  Being a mom is more than those things, as the definitions states, raising and nurturing is more challenging and rewarding than most other things you will do in life.
Nurturing includes loving, caring, helping them grow, but also letting them experience life on their own.  Allowing them to make mistakes and guiding them back on the right path.  Nurturing can mean not giving them what they want, but rather what they need, and that may cause backlash and fighting.  Our jobs are to make them healthy, happy, successful humans, not the entitled, selfish, needy beings that come into this world. To transform them into independent adults is the goal...and during the molding, you have no idea if you're on the right track.

Some days

Some days, like today, I don't even realize I haven't gotten out of my pajamas yet.  There is SO much going on in the mornings that I cannot even conceive spending (wasting) the time to get myself dressed when I'm just gonna get messy anyway. 

I hate being "that" mom.  But it has happened, and since Owen is tiny, I don't see it changing anytime soon. 

I usually get around to brushing my teeth, taking a shower around 3 pm.  By that point, everything I've done all day has undone itself and I don't care anymore.  I've never been too keen on housekeeping, I figured I've got better things to do (like read) but having Owen has forced me (for my own sanity) to try harder to be organized, on top of things and less lazy.  This doesn't necessarily mean my house is clean, but now most everything is in a place where anyone could find it, not just me.  Being pregnant magnified my stupidity to a level I had never experienced before and I don't ever want to feel like that again.  I want to be on top of things. I  want to have a clean, or at least, presentable house.  If only I didn't have all these kids, I'd be great!!

Elusive sleep

(It might as well be called the "elusive 2 seconds to do anything" post, as it took me 35 minutes to get beyond the title, but that's another post!)

Getting a baby to sleep is a delicate operation of skill and silence. While the baby is tired, it may fight the inevitable closing of the eyes for reasons unknown. This leads to much fussing, crying and thrashing around. After what may seem like hours of patting, bouncing, 'shhh'ing, feeding, changing and anything else you may come up with in desperation, the baby's eyes flutter closed. At this point, you may feel like praying desperately (something like "Oh, please God, let him stay asleep!:), but prayer rarely works, since God has "been there done that" and he thinks this is funny.
Now comes the elaborate dance to lay the child down. If you are standing, the baby will immediately recognize the transition to a sitting position, no matter how careful you are. If you plan on laying the infant down, you now have to walk the 20 miles it seems to take to get to the younglings room. Every step creaks, every noise is magnified. When you finally get to the crib, you realize that the position you are holding your offspring is counter intuitive to laying them down. Your arms are wrapped around the child in a way that will jar them to wakefulness. You will stand there for a few minutes, working out this complicated procedure and finally coming to the conclusion that you will " just do it and get it over with". This rarely works, unless the infant is deeply asleep, which infants rarely are. Most likely, you will have to set the child down on your arms as they are holding it, and them slowly slide your arms out. Your sweaty skin will stick slightly to the baby's skin, but this won't be an issue. You are finally free, the baby is quiet. You sigh in relief, smile at the tiny person who has just so recently been the cause of much irritation. It's easier to love them when they're sleeping. You turn, and your first step hits that one squeaky floor board in the nursery. The fruit of your loins awakens and wails, and your long journey begins again.

A New Flame

When I was pregnant with Bennett, I had a conversation with a library patron about growing families. She said that having another child was like lighting a candle from another flame. The first flame does not diminish any when you light the second, and the second isn't any smaller than the first. They end up equal, but different.

I've added a third flame and though this is totally true again, I find that the flames are glowing brighter than ever. I look upon my (existing) children with new eyes. Soon, too soon, Owen will be as big and capable and intelligent as these two are. Weren't they just this small? Wasn't I just worrying and fretting over nursing them? Those are the eyes I used to gaze into while they drank, whose tiny hands I held.

We have our issues. Maddie is finding her "Trombley Temper". Bennett suddenly has forgotten how to do things he's been able to do for a long time, in response to me not being as available as before. Owen is unreliable in the eating department. This makes planning of any kind really difficult. But I watch them interact with one another and know that this was (mostly) worth it.

A New Chapter

I have been without a computer or internet (with the exception of my husbands Droid) for three months...So much has happened in that short amount of time, so many things I wanted to say and was unable. This pregnancy had gotten me exhausted to the point of no return, but thankfully, that chapter in my life is over.

Owen Henry was born April 3, 2010 at 12:01 pm after 7 hours of labor. He weighed 7 pounds 15 ounces and was 21 1/2 inches long. In the week that we've been home, he's fallen into place in our family like he was always there.

Does every mother feel this way? Do we all feel like we are giving 7,000% percent yet nothing is accomplished? Do we all get walked all over, hearts stomped on daily, yet expected to give some more after all is said and done?

How can it be that I feel emotionally drained after staying at home all day, yet the house is a disaster, the kids are bad and I'm a wreck? What have I accomplished? I haven't taken a shower in three days because someone always needs one more than I do, or the laundry needs to be done (when doesn't it?) or the dishwasher need to be run. Which are all thing I need to do anyway, so when do I have the time and when I do where does the energy come from?

A friend recently put as her Facebook status that she just wants to be appreciated. Ha. Between a messy house, wild children and looking like a homeless person, who can appreciate that? Yet all our time and evergy goes out each day, pushing us backward with each forward step. If we do manage to get ONE thing done, a miracle, it is now expected to be the norm.

We spend 24 hours on call with no break, no stopping the constant worrying, no minute to think what might be best for us. We take care of every minute detail. Is it any wonder that when something is not done right, or completely, or at all, this is upsetting to us? Who is looking out for us? Who wipes our tears?

We get to live with the pain of everyday life, the ups and the mostly downs. The guilt of feeling inadequate, of failing your children. We are forced to do things we don't like, say things we don't want to, and then hate ourselves.

When our lives are spent putting others first, why is it surprising that it hurts when we aren't put first with others. I want to scream,"What more do you want, my blood?!"