teach your men to be men, so their women don't have to be..

I can open my own door. I carry my own bag. My dad taught me how to change my oil and my mom taught me that I am strong enough to do whatever needs to be done. It's not always a matter of what someone is capable of, but sometimes it should be about how much you can do to ease that for them.
We are still fighting about dollars. Because that is what drives some people. And I am totally dependent on it. And that gives people power. And that makes some people ugly. When you believe something is owed to you, or that you deserve something you have, it makes you blind to it. Where your treasure is there will your heart be also. And so we go back to court. And I explain why my children cannot live on less than the $300 they get each month. And I defend why even though I am capable of making wages, and have not fought his insistence on my imputed income of $1,700, that I simply could not do that while not putting my kids in daycare, and going to school full time. Because 10 years ago I made the choice to drop out of college. I enrolled in a trade tech and worked two jobs while I went because we were investing in the dream together. He was going to be a doctor, so it was okay for me to sacrifice a bit. We were investing in a future. I didn't mind the fake diamond in the ring, I was working towards something bigger. So I worked. I got a job and spent 16 hours some days working. And when a position opened up above me, that I wasn't qualified for, I was given it, because I was good at it, and I worked for it. Then the baby came and I thought my life was going to be different. But six months later, after yet another job loss, store don't like when their employees steal from them, I went back to work. We couldn't pay our bills yet again and the welfare was running thin. My mom took me grocery shopping so I could pack my lunch and loved my baby, and I went to work. Because that is what you do. And I got another call, this time the job loss was because of sexual harassment claims from a fellow employee. And then I got another job, one I again wasn't qualified for, but one that I did well, and that worked better for my family. Because that is what you do. Especially when he doesn't. I cried on tuesdays when I drove into work after I dropped her off when she cried that I was leaving. I came home to dinner cooked by a friend who knew how tired I was. I went grocery shopping, and cleaned the house and crammed in a week's worth of mommy time into my day off because that is what you do.
And he got fired from a minimum wage job, and dropped classes and our future seemed to become more uncertain all the time. There was always a next thing and always a reason. If he had spent half as much time just doing something as he did justifying why he was constantly the victim he would have been set. And I got good at telling the story of why I wasn't being taken care of. Hard times happen, I would never expect to be exempt from that but constantly allowing yourself to succumb to selfish urges or think only about how something affects you is not how a man should live his life. Work is hard, that is why it is called that. But we were commanded to go to work. Just as Adam was told he would prosper only by the amount of work he put into his life, we are expected to do that.
But sometimes men quit their jobs. And sometimes they live in their parent's basements for years because they would rather drive a car that is worth more than their annual salary and leased in their parent's names because no one with any logic would given them a car loan like that. And they get a Best Buy credit card and put a flat screen tv and speakers in their "lair", and they buy "their kids" an ipad for Christmas that has to stay at their house, and they pay $50 for haircuts and $80 for car washes and they spend $1,000 in Disneyland, not for tickets or hotels, but just on stuff because they are "making memories". And they don't pay for preschool, and they don't pay for backpacks or dance lessons or book orders because that kind of stuff isn't what is important. And then they find out they probably won't have a job in a few months so they go to a conference in Vegas, and buy the group dinner, and take the girlfriend to California and buy some new clothes from Banana Republic and put a lift kit on the beloved Jeep. And when the job isn't there you simply look around at those who depend on you and say, deal with it.
Because he knows I will. I will do what needs to be done because that is who I am. My parents will yet again pay for bills and buy Christmas gifts and take me grocery shopping because that is who they are. My dad has never considered anything that he works endlessly for to be his own. He considers it a righteous stewardship and he has blessed my life endlessly because of that. My mom buys boxes of diapers. And church shoes that worn too thin. And she quietly sneaks my van down to the gas station before anyone wakes up because that is who she is. They are motivated only by helping to ease my burden.
I recently met a man who I quickly came to adore. He saw a moment of simple need. I had something in my shoe and I was trying to balance on one foot while I couldn't get my shoelaces untied because my fingers were too cold. He grabbed my arm and helped me with the shoe and kindly said, "You just need someone to take care of you once in awhile." And I bit back tears. Not because I needed someone to do it but because he simply had. He is a man who has been taught what that means.
Teach your men that they should constantly be striving to do more for those around them. Make sure they understand the value of another person. Tell them that the quiet moments they spend creating homes of peace and enjoyment are the things that will shape future generations. Teach them that a lie should sting when it comes out of their mouth, instead of rolling out with ease. Make sure they know how to work, it is a requirement not a luxury we choose when we want to. Make sure they know how to enjoy when things are easy, but more importantly they persevere when things are hard. Don't let them yell at waiters, or old women, or their wives whether it be when others can hear or not. Teach them that fear is not the kind of power they should want to create but that respect is something you can't force. Teach them the value of what they achieve. Don't take that away by lessening the consequences of bad choices. Teach them to handle those defeats with grace. Push them a little harder than they want you too, greatness is never achieved without a little discomfort. Teach them that others feelings should always come before their own. Success that is found at an other's expense is not really success. Do not show them how to get out of responsibilities, teach them how to handle them and treat them as top priorities. Make sure they know that just because you can get away with something it doesn't make it okay to do so. Please show them what it means to righteously preside over a home. A wife should not be something that is tolerated or mistreated but should be loved and adored and respected as the celestial being she may one day be. Teach them that children are a gift and that misuse of that sacred duty to raise them will not be tolerated with any degree of allowance. Teach them what being a man of God means, that it is in the quiet, private moments where that truly manifests itself.
I know so many real men. I have been flooded in my life with good ones and I am grateful for that. They show my girls what should be expected of a man in this life and they are aware of the differences. This lessens the impact of those who haven't quite been able to reach that yet. So we go back to court. Because he doesn't want to pay as much, he shouldn't have to sacrifice his own needs to provide that. But we will be okay. Because I have been taught the ultimate example of what a man should be. And for awhile I will be both in my life, but I know He is aware of that and that compensations will be made. Because He is what man should be and that will never be lacking.

I read something that said, "If you run, you are a runner." I don't agree, I am definitely not a runner. But I run, and sometimes it feels like I run a lot. Today is National Running Day so I ran 7 miles and I thought about why I run. It's something that a lot of people do, but it is not something I ever did. I hated it. I thought the one mile fun run in junior high was actually going to kill me one day. Then last summer I just stepped out the door and started running. It came from a place of pain actually. I wanted my body to hurt as much as my soul did. I needed something to burn more and drown out what was going on inside of me. So I would run until that happened. It wasn't very far at first but it helped. I knew I was doing something that I couldn't have done the year before. It was hard and that was what I liked about it. I craved the feeling of overcoming something I thought I couldn't do. Some days I ran to get away from the house, from the legal paperwork and constant care of a new baby, and the monotony that can sometimes get to a young mom. It was the only thing that had a start and a finish, one thing I could actually check off that I had done that day. Some days I turned the music as loud as I could stand and just enjoyed the songs and the time I had to myself. And some days the steady thump of my sneakers on the asphalt was the absolute only thing in my life that seemed to be in control. And then my heart would be beat with the same constant rhythm and pretty soon my thoughts would slow from a frenzy of panicked fears and fuzzy, disorganized fragments into something that I could actually handle. Things made more sense after a run. Life wasn't so scary, if I could handle 5 miles I could handle other things. I was capable of doing hard things and that power was what running had given me. So I keep running. Some days it feels good, other days it sucks. Ha, which is just like life. So I may have started to run to outrun and escape my life, but now I run because it has helped give me back my life. Just like that one mile never killed me in seventh grade, the things that I would have thought I was never capable of handling have only made me stronger. It feels so great to push myself and the satisfaction of achieving something hard is the best feeling you can have. No I am not a runner. I am just a girl with a pair of running shoes and a "you can"t tell me what" kind of attitude. But most days that gets me a lot further than I would have ever thought possible. So I don't run for anyone else, I don't run for the races, I don't run for the times, I run because I can and most days that is pretty amazing!

It has been such a long minute since I have written anything on this blog and I am sad about that. I think I missed the moments to remember the feelings I was having and the lessons I have learned, but more than anything I think my brain needs to let thoughts out sometimes. No scratch that, my heart needs to let things out. My brain seems to process them okay but my heart sometimes gets a little encumbered with all the things it feels. But my heart doesn't feel as heavy anymore. I have made some some little jumps ahead and perhaps the urgency to write it out has waned just a bit. And the reason is that I have been busy. I have been racked with school work, I have been having fun with my family, going out with girlfriends, crying with girlfriends, laughing and laughing some more with friends and even squeezing in a date or two.
   My world is so filled with beautiful people and the overwhelming majority of them are women. Utah seems to have a monopoly on them. I see them everywhere I go. They are at the school picking up their kids or teaching others. At church, teaching a lesson or reaching out a helping hand and giving me hugs. And in the text message I get from a friend, thousands of miles away, at just the right time reminding me that I am doing something amazing. They are in my home and in my family and all I have to do is turn around to find someone who amazes with their absolute drop dead gorgeous beauty. And I'm not talking about the "glitterbums" which is what my sister and I call the drones here who all wear the same jeans, have eyelash extensions that curve to the back of their head, and who seem to do nothing more than follow their crowd of friends from one fad to the next. I mean the real women. An aerobics teacher told us that she used to tell her classes to go until they couldn't do anymore. Push yourselves as far as you can, then she realized that these women would literally kill themselves before they felt they would stop! They were beyond tough, they had nothing inside that would tell them to slow down, they would not stop unless they were told to because they refused to give up. The women I know don't give up. They have been through things in life that would kill someone and yet they keep going. And they do it with energy, and joy and happiness. They are smart and funny and so wonderful to be around that it is addicting. It is so intoxicating and I am constantly amazed at how strong they are in handling the challenges they have been handed in their lives.
   I recently sat across from a guy, very nice, who was attempting to explain some changes he had recently made in his approach to dating. He knew some of my background, not all of it, and he was sincerely trying to express what he felt had been a positive step in being more open-minded. But I just smiled, as all I heard him say was he was now at a place where he was okay with dating someone in my kind of a situation. Anyone who has been on the receiving end of my sharp tongue knows how white hot I was seething inside. For someone to think that they are offering me benevolence in my life by agreeing to even get to know me because I have children in my life and some scars on my heart, is in Southern terms "cock-a-mammy crazy." I thought how sad for all that he doesn't even know he was missing. He wanted someone more sparkly, someone that he felt was new, maybe a few more starts in their eyes. I get that. Everybody is entitled to what they feel they need in their life. Most people that walk through the pound want a new puppy, they are dang cute to look at, but who knows what you are going to get with it after you get home. My friends laughed when I compared us to the old dogs at the humane society but I did tell this certain guy what I felt, how I see the beauty in these women who have lived a little more life. I am so infatuated with the things they know and the brilliant lessons they teach me. They may not be as enthusiastic as someone who hasn't experienced as much but they know who they are, they know where they stand because they have had to withstand the storm. They appreciate all the good things because they know how it is to be without. I don't know how anyone can't see the diamond, but maybe it is because they don't always have to show it to know their worth. They may not desperately need the man in their life, but that only means that if you are there it is because they want you to be. Their lives are so much richer and so much more beautiful to me because they have created it that way, they have worked for it, they have earned it when they would have had every excuse to just give up. There are also wonderful people who are young, who may not have had to endure some of the trials that might await them. I love the young women in my life, they are pure and happy and they also help me remember how it feels to be optimistic and not weighed down with life, for it is meant to be lived happily. But the beauty that I strive for is not something that is found on the outside, it comes from a clear view of who you are, where you came from and what you are capable of when you turn your life to Christ and find your peace through this craziness we live in Him. Women are special to the Lord, and I know more of that now, as I have felt His sorrow for what they have to endure. And I have felt his strength and pride when they do it well. Women are sacred and they should always be treated as such, their power is so much more infinite they often realize. I love the women in my life. I love the joy they give to me. I love their examples and their humor and I love the special beauty that I so profoundly see in them each day. My quote in my bedroom says "Good Women: May we know them, may be them, may we raise them." I definitely know them, I have begun to raise a few, and because I am allowed to walk among them I am slowly beginning to take part and become one.

hypocrisy makes me crazy. I figure if you want people to believe something about you then you act that way. No need to talk about it all the time, no need to write about it on Facebook or say things from a microphone to a room full of people. Because let's be honest, we aren't that dumb, we can tell when things are what they seem or if someone is quite what they profess. But yet it still makes my skin crawl when someone says something and then acts in total opposition of that. Today should have been my ninth wedding anniversary. I had dreaded this day for awhile because it was a day that was something that will always be his and mine, a day that was picked on the calendar (we were at a fireside at the conference center) and then talked about endlessly and anticipated with so much excitement. I can tell you almost of every detail of how we celebrated this day for the past eight years, the first that he so carefully planned, the second, fourth and eighth that I spent pregnant, the fifth that was miserable and I found out why two weeks later when we first separated  and all the others that no matter what were marked as a passage of time that only we exclusively shared. Our wedding day was beautiful, all the fighting in the planning was forgotten and for the most part the ex in-laws were held at bay, and the day was just a day that we got to be happy. I wanted to hug everyone, I was that happy. I thought this was the day the rest of forever would start. I had waited for him for what seemed like so long and we could finally start what I was so excited for. I still remember our first weekend together, we just stayed in Salt Lake but it was such a wonderful time. We had a really nice dinner out (the most expensive I had and still ever have had) and I remember his wedding ring catching the light and I was so happy that he was my husband. It was the best feeling, at the time I didn't think we would ever need anything more than we had in that very moment. I am so glad we didn't know what the future would hold. I can't bear to think about myself as that girl and to know all the heartache that would come. I knew marriage would not be easy and I knew that we would have challenges but I guess I had been protected from the real world. I didn't know how mean people could be, I had no idea how bad it could get. There were so many dreams wrapped up in that day and I still mourn the loss of what I think should have been. Some days I am still bitter that promises weren't kept and bad feelings and rotten experiences came at the hand of someone who was supposed to love me and take care of me. But really those thoughts are just bitterness and dwelling on them only creates sadness so I take solace in the fact that I am who I am because of my life and that is something I have earned and it can't be taken away from me. A cute friend passed on a quick screen shot of something my x had shared today, maybe she thought it was sweet but in reality it felt like salt in a wound, because if you claim to be grateful for something then you should act like it. Don't treat the things you value terribly and then be surprised when you can't keep them forever. I knew today would be a fight, he was mean and controlling when I was married to him, I don't know why I keep expecting him to change now that I'm not. My daughters teacher called to ask that I come pick up the cookie dough they ordered for a fundraiser, it was all over the classroom and the boxes were to big for the kids to try and carry out themselves, so I did. He had taken the order form and I hadn't heard about it until the last day when I hurried and told him that I had some orders I would like added. I was grateful he had sold some too, B was thrilled she had a few orders but I didn't grab it from the freezer when he first picked up the younger girls. I have a class I have to leave immediately for so I figured we could exchange it later that evening but he called within a few minutes and screamed at me that he had to have the cookie dough that minute because he had people waiting for that cookie dough (really? is someone going to die from lack of dough) . He yelled that he didn't even know why I would have picked up the cookie dough in the first place. I hung up, stopped what I was doing and put his orders on the front porch. I couldn't believe we were screaming at each other over this today. I wanted today to be different. I wanted to remember the reasons we loved each other before and maybe even for just a second allow myself to feel sad that that was gone, and not feel guilty about it. I maybe even wanted to really see him again, for just a second be able to remember him the way it used to be but maybe that was never really the way it was. Maybe he was always this guy and I just didn't see it. But I prefer to think that he wasn't always like this, he used to say things and mean them, he used to be more happy with himself, that I wasn't just too dumb to not see through it. Today I will tell myself that, and even if it's just for the last hour of November 7th, I will believe it.

Louisville was the first of a few major cities we had to navigate through on our way to Utah. In order to get past it you have to use a bridge and last January that bridge was closed. And so was the bridge we were supposed to detour on. We were only an hour into what already was a totally overwhelming trip and we were lost. We followed the signs and somehow we wound a big circle around the city and ended up right where we started, so we tried again and still couldn't get anywhere. The gps was no help and I was completely turned around and lost by the time we started making our way around again. I never liked Louisville, out of all the cities we had been in, all the slums we had been through I was always the most uncomfortable there. It seemed like a mean, dirty city and I did not want to have to drive through the heart of it that morning. But we knew the way we were going wasn't working so we got off the exit and tried to wind our way through town. We followed a construction truck and at the third stop sign he got out of his truck and ran back to the van. A little cautiously I unrolled it, and he kindly asked if we were lost. He explained the way we needed to go and then told us to follow him he would get us as far as he could, and when we past the exit he waved us on our way. Too bad we didn't quite get the directions and some how ended up turned around and lost again. By this point I was panicked that we were absolutely never going to get out of this city, we had at least three days of driving before us and we were all already tired and hungry. We wound our way through some one way streets and u-turns and my mom thought we should pull over. I was very nervous, we were not in a good part of town but we didn't have any other options so I pulled into the parking lot of a White Castle. There were some cop cars around so I quietly hoped things would be okay. I had to nurse the baby so my mom took the other girls in. My mom isn't scared of much, I think she sincerely sees the good in people and so she doesn't really judge what might be negative, she figures she would help someone so most people would be willing to do the same. She told me she hadn't felt the same nervous about the area as I had and she is so sensitive to the spirit had I known that I wouldn't have worried at all. She asked someone at the counter and as they tried to give her directions another man overheard her from his table and got up to talk with her. He explained exactly where we needed to go, down to the direction we should go when we left the parking lot. He took the time to write down everything for us and then said he would point it out to her since he was about to walk home. She told him that I was feeding the baby and we probably wouldn't be ready to go for a little and thanked him for all his help. She came out to the car and told me she had gotten help and we were so relieved that he took the time to write it down so we wouldn't get mixed up again. It took about 20 minutes to get everyone settled and we drove around back we saw the man from the restaurant standing on the corner patiently waiting for us to come. We rolled down the window and he explained that he just wouldn't have been able to go home because he would have worried about us until he knew we were headed the right direction. I couldn't believe that standing on this yucky street corner, in an old wool cap and dirty sweats stood an angel helping us on a little further. This man didn't know where we came from or where we going, but I believe because he had Jesus is his heart he knew someone had a need and he was there to help. What a blessing and what a lesson in the power that one person can have on another. We can be such a help to those around us and what a good man to wait patiently on that sidewalk just because he cared enough to worry about some strangers he met in a burger joint. I wish I could thank him again for being there, maybe one day I will, I don't think I will ever forget his face. He probably doesn't share my religion but he exemplified what it meant to be a Christian that morning, and some days all that a person can get is that help through another. Be that other person, keep Christ in your countenance so others can be edified through that, be that light to the world that others need you to be, you may never know just what a blessing you have the potential to be!

once in awhile someone will ask about something, or a memory will come back and I have to stop and think about last January. Sometimes we even talk about the miracle it was that we made it to Utah in one piece, sometimes we laugh about it and think did that really happen? I checked B out of school early one day. The secretary at the school asked me if I was okay. I had explained a little bit over the phone and when she saw my face she wanted to make sure I wasn't in danger. To be honest I wasn't sure. I was terrified, I had a lock box filled with some papers in the car and a bag of a few essentials. B's teacher walked her to the office, she was hoping to get a peek at the new baby and my heart broke when I saw her. I couldn't tell her that we were leaving, I couldn't stand the thought of taking B out of her class, it was such a wonderful place, full of kids who loved it and I just couldn't bring myself to say it out loud. We went to McDonalds for lunch and I told him that I didn't want him to be at the house while we packed things up. I was scared that we wouldn't be safe in the house but I needed some time to get a few things together. My mom and I thought we would have to have the house packed before we left so we tried to get a truck, find boxes and figure out how we could even do it all. I sold furniture, packed and we tried to take care of a 2 week old. He wanted to meet with the bishop so we did. It was something we had done so many times before and I was honest when I told both of them I was done. I could not do this again, I was too tired of it. I don't think he knew what he was coming up against as he met with us that night but I will always be grateful for his words of support and wisdom. I had never experienced that before but I knew the bishop was given the grace to see my soul that night, he understood what I was saying and also many things that I didn't say. I am grateful for good men who allow God to work though them in order to bless my life. I called a friend on the way home and told her what was going on, her husband was at the house within an hour and also offered some more inspired words of kindness and comfort. The next few days were a whirlwind of all the things we had to get done. K's dad had offered to bring the moving truck so we didn't have to. It was a relief to not have to do that but I didn't realize that meant he would take the truck to his house first and unload everything he wanted or could sell. I am always amazed at how much work my mom can do, she accomplishes more in an hour than most do in a day and she worked tirelessly. My mind was such a fog and she was a superhero in helping with absolutely every little thing I needed. I had started to say good-bye to some people, it was so difficult that I didn't have the energy for it all. I had to return a baby swing to someone. I thought I was composed but her daughter caught what I was saying and asked if my girls were leaving too. It such a horribly wrenching moment and I lost it again. These people had been so good to me and I hated to think I was just leaving. But that last night I had two girls come visit. They helped me pack up my closet and made me laugh while I put the last few pieces of my life into boxes. These were girls who knew many of the things I had felt that year in Kentucky and they had been so good to me through it all. I needed to see them and I needed to have a few last minutes. It was a surprisingly happy few hours and I still find myself wishing I could be around them again. They told me I looked good, I seemed lighter and they loved on the new baby they had all been so excited to see. The next morning we were up early anxious to be done, my mom packed the van in the freezing cold as the sun came up and we drove out of Lexington. No fanfare, no drama. Just a right turn and the highway and we were on our way in our loaded little minivan.

you know when you sit on the airplane and they tell you that if a situation should arise that you need an oxygen mask you should always put your own mask on before helping anyone around you? Like I was ever actually going to do that... Now by no means am I a saint who worries endlessly about those around me, but I usually think "I am strong enough to handle this, better me than someone else", I can put off myself for a bit if it means somebody else feels a little better. I like those around me to be happy, and if that means I don't say exactly how I feel, or do what it is I want to do, or be quite what I want to be, that was ok. Because I thought that would make them think I was ok, and that was more important. Then I sat in the airplane and buckled the most amazing little thing I had ever had into that seat next to me. There was nothing in the world that had ever meant so much to me, no one who I would have sacrificed more for, nothing I had ever loved the same as I loved her. I would have gladly given up a thousand oxygen masks if it had meant that she had a moment of easy breathing. I could take a little beating here and there because I was working for something bigger now, it wasn't about me any longer. I could tolerate a little more pain, I could see past some rough edges, and soon it became a dull ache that didn't matter as much, because I told myself "she was happy", this family was what I had wanted my entire life and it was ok that it was hard for me, if I tried a little harder it would be easier for them. For now there were two, one on each side, buckled in safely, knowing that I was there, and that was enough for them in the moment. And there were certainly good moments in our life. Pieces of happiness, because it's impossible not to have them when you are with these little girls. Sent from God- handpicked for me, I was chosen to be their steward, to help them through this life while they had to be separated from their Heavenly Father. To care for them when they are hurt, when they are scared or when they don't know what to do. I am their mother and that meant, forever I will fight for them, I will give anything that I have to them and I will do what needs to be done for them. The turbulence came but I thought I could handle it, they didn't see me cry at night, they didn't hear the frustrated fights after they were tucked into their beds and I could always come up with an answer as to why he was missing yet again on another activity, another day when it was just us. Once in awhile he would try, he would take them out for an afternoon, or turn the tv off long enough to help with homework or comb their air after a bath but it was inconsistent at best, and at worst the affection was deliberately withheld and they were left thinking they had done something wrong. And the anger continued to increase and the reach of his rage went further after he told her she was a worthless brat and left her crying in the kitchen,  I hugged her with every fierceness in my heart and told her how wonderful she was and how much she meant to me. She had my oxygen, and that was ok. He told me I wasn't allowed to tell her that. That I was not allowed to take away any of the pain he caused, that was not my right to step over him as a parent and coddle my child. I didn't care what he said I would do it anyway, for that is what I promised those new babies each time I held them. I don't think he meant to do things this way, I think he wanted it to be better but he was also tired and overwhelmed and not sure how fix this. Then the third baby came. She and I struggled a great deal to get her here and after my part was done she struggled even more to adjust to being here. I loved her more than I could imagine possible and I knew she felt when I was there in the hospital unit with her. But when I wasn't there it was ugly; I was told I couldn't go, I was told I couldn't drive myself anywhere, so if he didn't want to take me I couldn't go see my baby. I was exhausted when I came home from the hospital, days before Christmas, to a home that was an absolute mess. Thankfully my wonderful friends made sure that we had good food brought in out of the kindness of their hearts, yummy soups and casseroles and the most amazing plate of fresh fruit all cut up and with yummy dip that was so much better than the hospital stuff we had been living on, but the kids were told to stop eating all that fruit, they didn't need that sugar.. controlling to the max. The older girls were shuffled from house to house at the drop of a hat as we turned around every 3 hours to be at the hospital for feedings and my heart broke when my poor toddler told me 'I just want to stay home with you today.' But if I just wanted to stay home I was berated for abandoning the baby, though she had a full team of qualified nurses and doctors caring for her. I laid on the couch and cried, I was missing something either place I was at, and I couldn't get to the hospital that morning because there was too much to do at the house, with the mess he had made and his inability to do anything other than watch football from the couch. No dishes had been done, no laundry washed, presents for Christmas still needed to be wrapped and I was so overwhelmed with it all. I was no longer truly taking care of any of those babies because honestly, I could not breathe. There was no life in me, it had just become too much. The circumstances of my life at that moment seemed to drown me and the last thing that I needed was to yet again stand up to him and defend myself... But sometimes in life there is no choice, there is only do, so up off the couch I went. I took a deep breath and got to work, the house got cleaned, the girls were played with and the baby was fed and loved. My body was battered, my mind was exhausted and overwhelmed, and I was so alone, but I was still breathing.