A Pity Party for One.

Mother's Day has come and gone. I'll add it to the increasing list of fairly sad days that I've had lately, days that are supposed to be special but haven't been for various reasons. My mom acknowledged it, and Jason did, too, with a "My Mom Rocks" onesie put on him by yours truly, but Isaac didn't. I know that there is too much going on for it to even be on the radar right now, but it made me sad nonetheless. I didn't say anything about it and just let it go when we talked. I didn't even get to spend it with both the boys. I had to choose, so to speak, one or the other because there is no way I am taking Jason to the hospital and expose him to whatever might be hanging out in the air there.


This is so not how I expected my life to be. For the most part, I try not to ask "why?" all of this is happening. I try to be positive about whatever I can. There are days, though, when I just can't seem to help myself. Why me? seems like an appropriate question today.


I hear people talk about their lives and complain about how tough they have it and I just wish I would get two seconds to worry about their worries instead of my own. It would be a relief. I know, I know, "the grass is greener..." and all of that crap. Still...


I just can't wait until I can start enjoying things. I try to, but there always seems to be some drama building in the not too far off distance. The other shoe hovers above my head constantly, waiting. I think it is actually sitting on my head, really. If I don't balance things just so, the shoe will come crashing down on everything again.


I tell myself that this is only temporary. The longer it goes on, though, it is harder and harder to convince myself of that. I am doing all I can do. That is all I can ask of myself.


I just need a little...peace and normalcy.