Super Busy at Home

Family blog about homeschooling, autism, saving money, mom blog, travel, vacation, budgeting.

This Vile, Vile person

I wish I could tell you that everything here is hunky dory all of the time. As it should be.


I am a child of God for pete's sake.

Whoever Pete is.

Hey Pete.

But I am so often stressed it's just frustrating.

Nick thinks I should start smoking.

How nice.

There are things that I find I am stressed about that I didn't even realize I was thinking of because they have become so engrained into my mind. Here are a few of them: I doing this right?

How bad was today? I'm a terrible mother!

What am I doing wrong with Cal?

Again: I'm a terrible mother (please repeat to self 57,000 times to get the point)

Bill...are there bills due today? I paid the bills that were due earlier right? Why on earth am I in charge of paying bills anyway?

Run frantically to computer to check...again (sigh)

Of course I did.
Kick myself because I doubted myself...again.
Wonder if Nick is happy with our marriage.

Sometimes I worry about things that are just silly. Why didn't I want to call my friend today? Should I call my friend today? Is God trying to tell me that I should call my friend today but I don't want to so that's why I feel guilty for not calling my friend today? Pray that I'm doing God's will. Still not want to call my friend. Pray again. Realize I just don't want to talk on the phone.
Then realize God doesn't play head games.
Realize I over analyze everything...EVERYTHING.
Wonder if I am upset I over analyze everything when in fact God maybe designed me to over anyalyze things so am I in fact upset with the way God made me?
Please repeat "over analyzes EVERYTHING" about 1200 times more.

Where was I?
Oh yes, I feel bad about not praying enough.
About eating too much.
About sleeping too much, or too little. Of which I can usually never remember which I am guilty of that day.
Of reading too much.
Of cleaning too little.

You are probably starting to agree with Nick that I should start smoking.
Or Chewing.
Or Both.
At the same time.
Is that even possible?
We don't smoke, we don't chew, we don't date boys that do. then stick out tongue for affect.
I taught that song/rhyme/poem to Emma the other day.
It was while I was trying to break into someone else's car.
I about ripped off the door handle before realizing that it wasn't our car.
I laughed.
Emma laughed.
then we ran.
To our car.
Then we laughed some more.
I guess as long as I have moments like that throughout the day then I can deal with my constant worry and weirdness and anxiety.
I often times think its my personality. Or a disease. Or I'm just weird.
Whatever it is, I would like it to stop.
Thank you.
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