Long Time...No Post

I have never been very good at journaling.  Not 20 years ago, not a year ago, not now.  However, having been recently called as the YW pres and having a strong belief that if I ask the girls to do something, I should be willing to do it too...I have decided to push through my lack of ambition and journal.  I find I am even worse (gasp) at writing things down on paper than I am typing, so here is where I'll spill my guts.  

I stopped writing due to overwhelming personal negativity.  I have been too stressed to feel perky, funny, clever in any arena in my life, so the blog was one of the first things to go.  Don't expect this blog to be fab.  If you want fabbity-fab cleverness, check out Whit's blog.  If you want stunning pictures of darling children, check out Steph's blog.  If you want to know the inner craziness of my mind...well, don't say I never warned you...keep reading.

Liberty, negative?!  Uh, I know you're not surprised.  Despite being a glass full kinda gal toward the rest of the world, my view of myself and my capabilities are on the "glass is dry as a bone" level.  It is one of my own exhibits of anxiety, but it slowly starts to erode my ability to fulfill even my lowest potential.  I have found when that begins to happen, our loving Heavenly Father steps in and hands me a job to do.  The kind of job that requires my blinders to be shed and my mind and activities turned to others.  Hmmm, maybe one of these days I'll learn my lesson.  I am excited and terrified of my new calling.  Thank heavens the Lord never expected me to tackle it on my own.  

Other issues on my mind are my darling children.  I love my beasties and I am so, so very thankful I have the opportunity to be a mother.  BUT, I am so overwhelmed right now.  My older boys are dealing with anxiety (thankfully manageable with their medication) and ADHD.  We haven't decided to medicate for it yet, but sometimes I don't know if I can handle them un-medicated.  Gunnison is well, Gunnison.  As his adoring auntie labeled him, he's one "loose cannon".  He is the sweetest, most loving, exasperating child.  He is one big warrior spirit in one tiny, wiggly body.  I throw my hands up on him.  I need to help guide him, but I don't know how.  He is not my older boys.  He is his very own person and I'm not sure how to move around his stubbornness.  He will pray when he chooses to pray.  If forced to say his nighttime prayers, he will resort to demon-voice praying, coughing after each word, or simply pretending to be asleep (with snores and snuffling sound affects).  He is so funny and so...stressing.  

And then there's Emmeline.  My beautiful, beautiful Emme.  Oh, how I love her.  She is such a special part in our family.  She is our last.  She is our sweet daughter.  After noticing a different-ness to her, something not quite right on age, regression, our doctor had her seen by a developmental pediatrician.  Emmeline has been diagnosed with PDD-NOS (pervasive developmental disorder-not otherwise specified), a disorder on the autism spectrum.  My heart hurts, but it is alright.  Emmeline is still beautiful Emmeline.  She is still the same spirit in the same little body.  I ache with both tears and smiles.  Things that make her unique also make her different.  She adores Dora; she hates loud noises.  Her words are only phrases she has learned; she knows all her abc's and has a large repretoire of songs she sings.  She loves her babies; you have to work hard for her love.  She has meltdowns with change; she has a special animal growl (ok, it does sound a little like a dying animal) that means "tickle me".  She is wonderful and a wonderfully large challenge.  I am up to the task, but I am scared.  Scared of all the what-ifs.  I am struggling with parenting my children.  I am floundering all of the time.  Daily living seems to be kicking my tail.  I had grandiose plans of preparing my children for their missions...I am working on keeping them alive and sane.  

Okay, I know the Lord is here for me.  I know if I am struggling, then I have been the one to draw away from the Lord, not the other way around.  Things will get better, they always do.  I have shoulders to cry on, hands to hold, and angels to bear me up.  My burden is light.  I am thankful for the burdens I have.  I know I can handle the ones I have, and I am lucky.