For those of you who know me - even a little - you know that I struggle with emotional stability. Basically, what that means is that I fall apart over the normal irritations of life even though in my mind, I know that falling apart is a waste of energy and stupid. I can handle the big things in life. It’s the little ones that seem to put me close to “the edge.” Generally, those things hit me in the middle of lots of other confusion going on around me. For example, last Tuesday, I took my children and an extra one to Taco Bell to drive through for lunch. As usual, I got lost in a neighborhood, and the extra kid told me that I was driving around in circles. He was right! We all laughed as we continued to drive past the same streets over and over again. We all laughed as we ordered and continued to make jokes the whole way home. What a fun mommy, right? What a great, fun time!! Within 30 minutes of our laughter, I went over “the edge.” (The extra child was gone by now.) I couldn’t find the hammer, and I wanted to finish hanging the last few items in the house. As I searched for the hammer, I began to look around the house and noticed all of the rooms that had children’s things left in them and also noticed that the kids’ rooms were not cleaned with beds made (a daily morning requirement). For some unknown reason, I felt this surge of emotion inside of me that I couldn’t control. I climbed onto the “mean mommy” broom and flew through the house barking orders. All the while, I’m crying uncontrollably. My children jumped into high gear and got everything cleaned up quickly while I laid in the middle of the living room floor and cried and cried and cried, angry with myself for who I had become in a matter of moments over a stupid hammer and a couple of un-made beds. Of course, once my “fit” was over, I apologized to the children for being such a witch and tried to make it up to them as best as I could.

Today, same song, second (or 1,000,000th) verse….The girls and I crawled into bed together and loved on each other this morning. We got up and went downstairs where I made them cinnamon rolls for breakfast. We visited while I got the dirty clothes together to begin the laundry. I casually unloaded the dishwasher as we continued to visit. William came upstairs and ate with us, and all was well in the Smith house. After my shower, Jia continued to want to be held while I tried to get dressed for the day. (Rowland wanted us to go get our car tags this morning.) I could feel myself getting irritated, but I was determined to continue putting one nice foot in front of another. Then came the phone calls. I had to call Wal-Mart because I didn’t know which of my new contacts went into which eye. As expected, I was put on hold for an eternity. Finally, the girl got back on the line and told me she had five people in front of me, could I wait longer? No, thank you! I hung up and called my eye doctor for help. Once again, I was put on hold, but the wait was relatively short, and I was able to figure out my contacts. The next phone call was to Kaiser, my least favorite place on the planet. (In fact, if you don’t know Jesus, you will have Kaiser insurance when you die!) I called and held and held and held. Eventually, I spoke with a very nice girl who put me on hold again and again. In the end, I discovered that the prescription that I had ordered two weeks ago and that I should receive in 7 - 10 days was expected in their plant on Monday. They would get it out to me then. Actually, the answer didn’t irritate me at all. I expected that. It was the pain of waiting and waiting and waiting, all the while having Jia talk to me, walking around the house trying to get ready to go.

As I went to get in the car, I “ranted” to my husband about my morning. (He had been outside and missed all of the fun.) He doesn’t want to hear me rant. It doesn’t put him in a happy place either. In fact, it’s really unfair to him. I knew that the things that I was upset about were a waste of energy. I realize that they are “just life.” The question is…what am I suppose to do with those physiologically-based emotions that well up inside of me? I can’t throw things or break things. I’m not supposed to yell at my children or scream and curse. No one wants to hear me rant (me neither!). I do tell God how I feel. I tell Him that I know He’s promised to supply all my needs, and I believe that means my emotional needs as well. I have my quiet time every day; I journal every day; I work out every day; I take my medication every day; I shower every day. I do all of the things that I’m “supposed” to do, but nothing seems to work. I try to talk to myself, but I must not say the right things.

The bottom line is that I can’t handle “multi-tasking” life. I can’t handle the noise around me - the TV, the fan in the bathroom, the elevator music on the phone while I wait, the kids talking and playing, etc., etc. Do I have to go live on a deserted island somewhere to keep from throwing two year old tantrums? I have everything I’ve ever wanted in my whole life, and I love where we live. I love my husband and my four adorable children. I have a beautiful home with a little shopping money on the side. I have my good friend Amy here so I’m not alone and friendless. I’m even beginning to make other friends. God and I are on good terms most of the time. I spend time talking to Him and reading His Word (and not listening enough, I’m sure!). Even with everything in my life being so good, I have a chemical imbalance in my body that makes me “crazy,” and I HATE IT!!!!!! Is it the thorn in my flesh that Paul talks about (or the thorn in my poor family’s flesh?) or is it immaturity on my part? I don’t know, but I’m pretty damned tired of it!