A Good Day

So far. I got up this morning and fixed breakfast for Grant, myself and the kids. Eggs, of course, since we are swimming in them. I changed a dirty diaper. I made sandwiches for lunch and even did the dishes. All of this with no help. A major turning point and I feel really proud of myself. I've enjoyed the day with my kids and feel like I am seeing them again after a long absence. I looked at my blog and saw that I got one comment on my last post. Thank you, Julie, for not completely giving up on me and checking my blog again! Maybe soon I will graduate to posting pictures again. The best part of today was looking out the window and what did I see? Blossoms popping on the apricot tree. It seems poetic and poignant to me that the awakening of spring is coinciding with my emergence from the dark place I have been. Oh, and if I seem to be waxing literary lately, (poorly, I'm sure!) it is because I have been reading War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy and the Russian authors always have that effect of me. Hopefully I will finish the book in a week or so and it will pass!

There's nothing like six weeks of relentless suffering

to make one think differently and a little more deeply about the atonement and resurrection. After enduring my own private little hell which has left me skinny and shaken in body, mind and spirit I find it difficult to contemplate other suffering in the world. One of the things that have occupied my mind lately is Africa. The reports from Darfur and Sudan make me physically ill. The stories of rape and murder, starvation and deprivation. The mothers and fathers that were forced to watch as the janjaweed threw their little children into boiling water. Over 200,000 dead in that area from that conflict. There is the Middle East. How is such hatred and rage possible? What evil and secret combinations are underfoot when the world decides it needs to interfere in the oil rich nation of Iraq but leaves the blood and genocide of Darfur alone? What of my own country, America, where teenagers are so desperate to feel something real that they create death and violence to make their lives feel important? If only every person on the planet knew how important their lives are to God. If only they knew each and every one of them is so important that Jesus Christ took upon himself all this suffering so that they need not suffer if they turn to him. All of the ghastly suffering humans have inflicted on each other through the years atoned for. Jesus said, "It is finished." and on the third day he took up his own body and arose from the dead. The darkness and hell on this earth, created by sin and death, overcome. I want to say with Enos, "Lord, how is it done?"

Hello everyone

I'm not completely better yet, but I may be ready to join the world again. Here is a glimpse into my life.

Things That Make Me Feel Sick
1. The smell of ANYTHING.
2. Taking a shower
3. Holding my kids
4. Changing diapers
5. Eating
6. Moving
7. Thinking or talking about complicated subjects
8. Kissing
9. Driving
10. My own saliva in my mouth
11. Getting dressed
12. Being too hot
13. Being too cold
14. Watching TV
15. Basically, everything

Things That Make Me Feel Better
1. Nothing

Consequently, for the past 6 weeks I've been sitting in an armchair at my in-laws house while my MIL (aka the lifesaver) takes care of my kids and feeds us food. I spent the first 3 weeks crying. The past 3 weeks I gave up crying and I've actually gotten dressed for the past two days so I'm hoping better days are coming. Although it fades slowly. The other day at the Pinewood Derby I watched a couple unwrap their DQ hamburgers and dig in. After a while I realized I was staring wistfully and actually starting to tear up at the thought of eating food with such enjoyment. I'm pathetic.