(Just as a precursor–I am still very happy to be done with school! )
Yesterday was Sunday…not my best day. It’s been several months now that I really have to work to like Sundays, especially going to church. Let me explain a little bit why. I live in a very kind and caring ward where everyone wants to know how you are and how they can help. It’s wonderful!…unless you feel like your life really stinks, and if one more thing goes wrong, you are liable to lose it and end the whole life all together! When that is how you are feeling, going to church and having to constantly either tell everyone all your woes (which, let’s be honest, do they REALLY want to know?), or you fake it and say everything is just fine, is not the ideal way to live 3+ hours of your life. Then add to that the weekly fight with #1 on what dress she should wear, how her hair should be done and how EVERYONE is going to laugh at her because she looks absolutely beautiful. Once at church you fight #2 to sit on the bench, fold his arms during the prayer and actually think about the Savior during the sacrament instead of the goldfish that are in the diaper bag, and #3 is climbing all over everyone, looking for goldfish or smarties or whaterever she fancies at the time, throwing he pluggy across the aisle, and screaming at you because you don’t understand the words she REFUSES to use. Of course, amid all that, #2 and #3 want to share my lap with #4 who is pretty defensive of it’s space, since it is all it gets! Not the most Spirit wlcoming situation! Then when you’ve had all that you think the congregation can take of #3’s screaming, you haul her to the Relief Society room (which has no audio feed of what is happening in the chapel) and hold her,in a vice-like grip, continuing to scream on your lap for the next 40 minutes, just so she can fall asleep 5 minutes before everyone in the community will be streaming in, talking about all the wonderful testimonies that were born, and how excited they are for Gospel Doctrine! She wakes up, and I take her to nursery where she does the usual 3 minute cry for the leader and then happily plays for the rest of church.
At this point I go to the Sunday School class that I teach to the 17-18 yr olds, try to pretend like I feel the Spirit and can even remember what a testimony is, while they look at me like every question I ask is stupid, and why on earth should they answer?! Then, off the Relief Society where the majority (ok, all but me and maybe two other women, if they have been able to break free from their children) of the women have it all figured out because they are so much older and wiser than I. The lesson, chosen specifically for me, I believe, is on how we as women in the church try to be perfect and do everything, and how we just can’t and we need to give ourselves a break. Of course, the older wiser set affirm to one another how great their grown children are and tell us young ‘uns that we just need to love our children and all will work out! (Please don’t make me explain what some of the older sets grown children are really like!) I bawl through the whole lesson, because I just want to worry about the essential things, those required for eternal familydom, and those are the things going down the drain in my family! Then all the women come and hug me and tell me to not worry about the little things, everything will be ok. I just want to punch most of them in the face (ok, not really) and go home!!
Once home, the wonderful family life I have continues as I yell at my kids (please note, this in only because the first 5 times of asking were totally ignored), fight with my husband (because he can sense that everything is not peachy keen), and look forward to a blissful afternoon of not-so-quietly reminding #1 and 2 that it’s QUIET TIME!!!!!!!! Once it’s bedtime and scriptures and prayer roll around (one of those essential eternal family things), I find myself madder than ever as #1 and 2, totally ignore all parts of the scriptures except the few verses they were required to read and help #3 pull out all the books from the bookshelf, laughing all the time. That’s when I storm off and tell them to have their own prayers!!
Ya, like I really want to bring #4 into all this!!! Staying with Heavenly Father seems a much better option!
Today is Monday, Sunday is over, at least for 6 more days. I still have the battles with my children, all three, but as we take my mom to Pocatello for an eye appointment, and I cry my frustrations out to her for a time, and then we to a small bit of DI shopping, and eating out (on my mom–thank you, I love you!), I feel quite a bit better. Nothing has changed really, I just feel better.
Such is my life. Up, down, round and round. I would like to say that it has a lot to do with pregnancy hormones, but maybe I should just say that that remains to be seen! Tomorrow will be an up…I feel semi-confident! 
So here we are, still prego!
