Life, as ever, has been crazy.
Jonathan is studying for the bar. He's basically a zombie living in our house, only he doesn't eat brains. Yet.
David has four more days of school. He is really looking forward to being on summer break. He managed to JUST get all of the cans he needed to return so he'd have enough dimes to make it to day camp. That's in 8 days. He'll have a blast. I'm applying for financial assistance at the YMCA so we can get him and Andrea into a few weeks of summer camp so they aren't too bored all summer long. I'll stack dr appointments on those days.
Andi just inherited four American Girl dolls and tons of accessories. Jonathan's boss gave us a ton of his girls' old stuff. So another bitty baby, a set of bitty twins, and a fully outfitted Kit doll, along with a pram, bed with trundle, bunk bed, clothes, bouncer, dolly car seat, and a stroller. She's been in dolly heaven.
Peter has several dr appointments coming up. We're trying to get a new GI because Dr Dickhead is a jerk and really wants to just pawn us off on someone else anyway. That's a whole other blog post. Peter's diapers haven't changed. He's been bloated constantly since we started the iron. He spent all day Friday screaming. Two blood draws tomorrow.
Me? Hahahaha! Oh dear. Me...
My mom always gets worried when I don't post blogs. She thinks it is because life sucks or I'm depressed. She's right. Right now life sucks. And I'm depressed. And I don't know how much the paxil is helping right now. This whole situation with Peter has just been overwhelming. And with each new stumbling block thrown in the way of getting everything better I get more and more frustrated and angry: angry that the drs won't listen to me, angry that Peter isn't getting better, frustrated that we can't figure out why.... Most of all I'm angry at god. Or whoever I've thought god was my whole life. I feel a bit like I've been drug under a bus for the last six years, being strung along with promises that if I'd just read my scriptures, say my prayers, serve faithfully at church, DO MY FREAKIN' DUTY, I'd be blessed, my family would be taken care of, and everything would turn out okay. So I did just that. Read my scriptures, prayed so earnestly, went to the temple, did everything anyone ever asked (even if I'd come home from church more exhausted than when I'd left). We were homeless, living with Jonathan's parents (which was NO walk in the park by any stretch of the imagination), felt like Andrea needed to come, so we had her (I blame my overabundance of hormones and similar personalities to the fact that living off the charity of my in-laws was so miserable). We moved across the country to live on handouts, barely making ends meet, barely feeding ourselves, when we felt that "GOD" was leading us to have another baby. I went WAY out on a limb (because I really did not want to get pregnant again with everything working against us), exercised great "faith", and had a beautiful baby boy (that nearly DIED twice before he was born. Seriously. He just wanted to start his life living on the edge. Geez.). And now nothing has changed. Yes, Jonathan has a job, but he only works two days a week. I really need to work, but every possible roadblock we could have is being thrown at us. The worst of which is the fact that Peter is so ill. So I'm left wondering what the heck the point of this was. What lesson was I supposed to learn here? That five years of hell should be endured, and I'd better be happy about it!!? Well, I'm kinda tired of "doing the things you're supposed to do" and having nothing to show for it. I'm feeling a bit as if whatever god is in charge is totally twisted and sick, demanding allegiance whilst simultaneously inflicting total misery on children he supposedly loves.
"Read your scriptures, Caroline!" Yeah. Done that. Big help that was. So screw it, I'm not wasting my time there anymore.
"Count your blessings, you've got lots of them." Yep! Let's count 'em: Car that's a ticking time-bomb, that I worry is going to just STOP on the road any second now. (But hey, at least we live close enough to walk to most of the places we need to go so I really don't have to drive so much. Yippee!) Son that is severely depressed, is always moody, and feels like scum of the earth most of the time. Daughter that has had some major health issues in the last year. Son who came into this world fighting and uphill battle, has already had surgery to fix two things, didn't even get to fully get over that before he becomes terribly sick and drs can't or won't do the tests we need so we can figure out what is wrong so we can treat him. Husband who had such a lousy education as a child that he has spent the last 13 years making up for it and trying to catch up with his peers, who is battling his own depression, who has had to postpone the bar twice, who works so hard but never seems to get anywhere for it (thank you crappy elementary education! You should hear the conversations we've had about how he resents it.). Me, who tries so hard and can barely keep it together, yeah I'm really grateful for fat ol' me. Hey, at least we have food (thank you, taxpayers, for doing what I can't - provide food for my family).
"Say your prayers!" Pray.... To whom? That big guy in the clouds who doesn't listen to anything I say and just delights in putting his weight against the doors he's TOLD us to take? Yeah. Okay. That will help me so much! Because I haven't been tearfully doing that for YEARS.
"Go to church!" So I can get more lectures about how I am required to give every last ounce of my effort to a god who I doubt actually exists? No thank you. I need that energy for my sick baby, thankyouverymuch.
"You just need to exercise faith." And you need to go to hell.
So yeah, I'm kinda tired of putting on face. Trying to keep it together is tearing me apart. And trying to be okay with the fact that my innocent baby has done NOTHING but still has all of these "trials" that "god" has given him is just killing me. I don't get it. I don't like it. I don't understand it. I've tried. I just don't believe that someone who is supposed to be a loving father would put him through that. As his MOTHER it is something I would never choose for him.
Sorry for the brain dump. It just isn't helping to keep it all bottled up and nod and agree with other people who are suggesting the above. What a terrible course of inaction.
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