I'm full of tears and they just keep coming out.  Why?  Could be post-baby hormone stuff.  Could also be the current jobless/moneyless situation...just so sick of it.  Could also be spiritual angst.  See previous posts on that.  I'm not prone to depression, but I'm just having a low-down time right now.

Dang, life is so hard sometimes.  Even when nothing seriously bad is happening, life can be hard (I mean, there's worse stuff than unemployment, far worse--oh great, that means it can get worse).  Most of the time I take things in stride, but after a such a long while, it gets wearing.  And life with six kids just bulldozes on, whether you can do it competently or not.  There's poop to clean up, laundry to do, meals to conjure out of nothing and nowhere for picky people, and then the "school" stuff.  The housework alone is oppressive.  Especially when I can only get half-way through any given task before Pudge starts demanding me. 

Yesterday he took a lengthy nap, and DH took the older kids fishing, so I cleaned as much as I could, sobbing the entire time.  I got the upstairs pretty straightened, except for the clothes mess that I made trying to organize seasonal stuff.  I got supper made, laundry forwarded, living room vacuumed, dishes done.  Of course, it's all going to pot again already.

We did go to church today, sans husband.  Husband had an attack of insomnia last night, so we left him be.  While I'm getting everybody ready, the baby is screaming, screaming, screaming (like I said, he hates being put down).  I feel bad about it, but what can I do?  I'm trying unsuccessfully to find something to wear myself (everything needs mending, or has spots on it, or can't be nursed in, or doesn't fit my ample bosom) and I'm thinking, "Why am I subjecting myself to this?  What's the point?  To get there, sit during whatever part of the sermon I can tune into before/after nursing, turn around, and come home again?"  It's not even "my" church. 

On the way, the tears just oozed out in spite of myself.  Everything just seemed so sad.  I'm thinking, "How am I going to go in like this, completely unraveled?"  When we got there, I just sat in the car with the kids for awhile and fed Pudge, waiting for my eyes to lose a little of that unraveled look.

I managed fine in the main service with the two littlest (Mopsy colored, and Pudge fell asleep in the sling), and the older children enjoyed "children's church."  ("I likeded it," quoth Scrub.)

The sermon was about "as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord," but it was more about church attendance than anything else.  And husbands being spiritual leaders.  Great.  Church-skipper moi without even husband in attendance.  I just don't even care about do's and don'ts anymore.  Sorry if that sounds slack, but I don't.

Tonight, I'm going to bed at eleven, even if the house is indescribable.  Tomorrow, I'm getting up a little earlier and seeking God on this stuff.  I'll let ya know what happens.

Later!