Honestly, most days I feel like I'm on the verge of a total breakdown.

It’s been a while since I’ve written a “vent” post. It’s been bottling up for a while now, so get ready for an ugly eruption. I feel like I’ve been burned out for years. So many days, I wake up dreading the day ahead of me. Dreading the tantrums, the arguing, the messes that will inevitably be made. I’m tired. So tired of being the law enforcement officer of the household. Tired of making people do what they don’t want to do. Tired of fighting battles I can’t win. Tired of being the bad guy all the time. I realize as I’m writing this what a brat I must sound like. I have so much to be grateful for. My children are healthy. I have a beautiful, new home to live in. Plenty of food to eat and clothes to wear. A supportive husband with a stable job and a lucrative income that allows me to stay home. Maintaining the household is my only job. It shouldn’t be so hard. Lots of people do what I do on top of their regular day job, while I feel like I am completely overwhelmed by just the basics. Someone once told me that bad days make good blog posts, so let me tell you about this past Wednesday...

I woke up to Lars standing at my bedside before dawn. He was complaining that his lips were chapped real bad. (Apparently, I’m raising a little Napoleon Dynamite.) I got out of bed and rubbed some Vaseline on his lips. He screamed that it hurt. Even in my sleep deprivation, I could tell that his lips weren’t just chapped. They were swollen and scabbed like he had a fat lip. I carried him upstairs and found Eden lying in his bed. Lars explained that the two of them had been sharing the bottom bunk that night. I assessed that Lars must have gotten elbowed in his sleep or pushed off the bed. I woke Eden up and told her to move to the top bunk and that no more sharing the same bunk is to be allowed.

I went back to bed and tried to sleep. Brock, Austin and Brandon were already getting up for seminary at that point. Gratefully Brock drives them there, so I didn’t need to leave the house for a few more hours. At 7:00, I rolled out of bed, got dressed and woke Eden, Kade and Lars. Then I drove to the YMCA to pick up the twins. They both recently got their drivers permits, so now they take turns driving home from the gym every day. Wednesday was Austin's turn, so he drove home and parked in the garage. An electrician was waiting in my driveway when we got there, so I spoke to him briefly about some ceiling fans that needed to be hung. Then I hurried inside to get the three little kids ready for our weekly homeschool group. (It’s my turn to teach this month, so I wanted to get there early.) 

Lars was still in bed. I dragged him downstairs and tried to feed him some breakfast. He wouldn’t eat because his lips still hurt too bad. While the other kids grabbed snacks for class, I quickly threw a freezer meal in the crockpot for dinner, grabbed Lars’ shoes and my teaching materials and hurried everyone into the car. I hopped in the driver's seat, threw the van into reverse, backed up and heard a large crunch. What the...? I pulled forward and got out to look. Somehow, the garage door had been partially closed, and I nailed it with the top of the minivan. I am sure it was left open when I came inside with the twins and the electrician, but I have no idea how it ended up partially closed by the time I was leaving for class. After running into it with the minivan, the door wouldn’t open or close so now my vehicle was stuck in the garage. Luckily we keep spare cars around for just such an occasion.

Eden, Kade, Lars and I rushed to the big white van parked outside in the driveway. Feeling like an idiot, I texted Justin about the garage door. Of course, I started to cry on the way to class. Two minutes down the road, Lars started having a fit. He was mad at Eden about something. We got to the church where our homeschool group meets and I rushed into the building to get set up. I told Eden to wait in the van with Lars until he calmed down enough to come inside. As I wrote on the whiteboard, Kade set up tables and chairs for class. The church custodian came in to tell me my car door was left open. I told him that there were still kids in the car. (Like that explained everything. I’m sure he probably left the room and immediately called child protective services.)

There are only three other families in our homeschool group. One family was absent that day and the other two were running late, so that gave me time to compose myself a little before starting class. I told my fellow homeschool mom friends about my morning. They could relate to my stress and offered laughter and hugs. Sharing my burden with them made it feel lighter, and helped me see things from an outsider's perspective. It really was rather humorous. At times like these, community is life. 

When we got home from class, the garage door guys were already there working. My morning’s mistake would be fixed before lunch was over. My sister in law came to pick Brandon up for play practice and I vented to her about my stressful morning. She was gracious enough to listen compassionately even though I’m pretty sure her life is way more stressful than mine right now. She gets feeling burned out and the feeling of hanging on by a thread. 

I took my kids to run around at the ninja warrior gym and visited with another mom friend there about my morning. Again, relating my recent frustrations made me feel lighter. I realized that while sometimes bad mornings tend to spiral into bad days, this particular day hadn't. I had been blessed with not one but four true friends throughout the day who offered strength in my unsteadiness. I am so grateful for that. 

This weekend is General Conference, and while I didn't hear much of yesterday's sessions, this morning, I actually sat down and took notes. One story stood out to me about early church members who were sent to scout out areas of Arizona for settlements. They had suffered much thirst in their travels, but prayed and received a miracle of rain. After the miracle, they returned to President Brigham Young in Utah and reported that the area was uninhabitable. One individual disagreed and told Brigham that if he had been in charge of the expedition, he would "fill up, go on, and pray again". Those words struck me. I so often get caught up in my own pity party, feeling like my responsibilities as a wife, mother, teacher, homemaker, church member, etc. are too great. I'm not strong enough, smart enough, or resilient enough to succeed. But in reality, if I take a step back and look at the big picture, I know that I've been given everything I need to fill up, go on, and pray again. Yes, life gets overwhelming. Burdens can seem heavy. But when I lack the strength to stand, I can kneel. I can pray. I can reach out to others who can relate and offer their support. I am eternally grateful for that knowledge.