Wine glass in hand...

Yes, this is what it's come to. I sit here in my brand new baby-butt-soft sweatpants I just bought for $3 at Walmart, t-shirt (the girls are hangin free), and a wine glass sitting romantically on the desk nearby. Very nearby. It holds a lovely menagerie of Sierra Mist, cran-raspberry juice and ice. The ice makes it a little less romantic but the Sierra Mist was not cold so I had to sacrifice less romantic for ice cold.

My glass can only hold such arrangements for I am not one to drink alcohol. So the best I can come up with to soothe my nerves (that are in desperate need of some Ritalin right now), is a sweet cran-raspberry-Sierra Mist infusion. It seems to be doing the trick.

Or maybe it's the fact that the kids are all in bed and I'm sitting here alone with only the sound of my fingers lightly dancing on the keyboard. Does anybody else love that sound? Anywho...

I have been in a funk. My best guess is that most of it is stemming from having my husband either gone or sleeping for most of the day.* But this isn't a post about his schedule, it's about this...thing...

This dark evil thing that's taking over my very heart. It's anger. It's despair. It's sorrow. It's frustration. It's doubt. It's fear. It's helplessness. It's hopelessness. It's overwhelming...

I hate this hole. So why do I scream to be let out of it, only to let it entice me back to it's ominous door? Why do I shut out the only one that can help me? Why do I run from the only true one who can offer me the peace that I so desperately long for. As I sit here and suffocate, He holds out his hand. He calls my name, and I cry, "It's too hard." He says, "We've been here before. I'm still with you." I turn my head and pretend not to hear.

Why?

Why do I do that?
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On a happier note, I have managed to successfully take a tired and hungry 3 year old to the store 2 days in a row. Amidst screaming, crying, yelling horrible things at me, running from me, hiding in clothes racks, and hitting me I managed to carry my sweet little angel to the complete opposite end of each store so her little fanny could have a nice little talk with Mr. Hand. It's been a lovely couple of days.

On that note, I'm going to finish my [almost] relaxing drink, go crawl into bed, read my Bible - where surprisingly I just happen to be reading Job, and then attempt to not have dreams that remind me of just how much I'm suffocating.

*My second best guess (after re-reading this post - which actually wasn't supposed to go this direction at all, so if it's totally confusing, I apologize. Apparently I have some things weighing heavy on my heart that needed to come out) is that it may have a little bit more to do with my heart and attitude as opposed to G's schedule.