Change my attitude toward life and food, if not my circumstances.
Change my tolerance to the antics of my children, if not the amount of energy I have.
Change my lust for energy, if not our tolerance for pesticidal corn.
Change my desire to tolerate pesticidal corn.
Amen.
Definition of stupid:
Being surprised that corn makes me itch the way chocolate and wheat do. Um, corn makes Sasha's skin come off and hair fall out. And I am surprised WHY that I am sensitive to it? Because I am #stupid. Or maybe it's just hard letting go of what little remains, like chips and guac from Chipotle. At least we can still have guac. I am just coming to terms over and over again with the fact we have to make everything. everything. (every. thing.) And bless my friends who find us recipes, seriously. But now I'm trying to juggle and shake out of the space-time continuum the energy that isn't there to make every. thing., while inside me I try to subdue the selfish beast that is tired of suffering and feeling like shit all the time.
Whoa momma, deep breaths.
Because, I know people with babies in the hospital, people with toddlers in and out of the hospital, others who sold everything and moved to an orphanage in Haiti where they see tragedies all too often, and still others who sold everything and moved to other countries to illegally spread to gospel, one of whom is currently kicked out and separated from the rest of his family. I look to them for inspiration, because the roads they walk are not easy, to put it mildly. And I know I can walk this sucky, sucky road. But I need to do it differently. I know there are ways to suck less. But how oh how?!
We are one week into summer and we're 3 for 3 for migraines, the girls and I. (I've actually had 2, and one was super heinous BLEGH!!!) My mom hasn't had one, but she's got a week of school left. Em hadn't had a real migraine since December so that's not really so bad, but poor Sasha finally got her very own migraine journal app on my phone. It's a rite of passage unfortunately in this house. Changing routines is always hard, there's the end-of-school stress let-down, and who knows how much the girls are actually taking in the news that 1. Daddy has a girlfriend and 2. He's having a baby with her. (Sailor *smh*) I am worried about that kid's future since the severe and life threatening food allergies come from Daddy's side. Lord help his baby momma...and her 2 other kids...
Contented:
feeling or showing satisfaction with one's possessions, status, or situation
So,
Food - check
Clothes - check
Shelter - check
Kids in their bedroom next to mine breathing unassisted - check
Contented - not even close
God, if you let me live another day, surely you must be willing to change me somehow. Surely I am not destined to stay this same mom, this same musician, this same friend, this same person. I absolutely refuse to believe that. Amen.
Yup. I feel better already.
