Woke up at 4am. For the first few hours I wasn’t real productive. I read. I blabbed on the ptsd support site. Then was breakfast. Then I made dinner (yay crockpot). Then I started laundry. Then I did the first round of dishes. I watered the front and back yards.

After that I scooped the cat box and gave her new food and water. Then I took out the garbage and recycling. After that I got to settle in for two hours of weeding.

Lots of kid drama and screaming. I feel like a big asshole but I also feel like OH MY FUCKING GOD DO WE HAVE TO DO THIS EVERY DAY?!

Then I rotated laundry. Then I made lunch. Lots of bitching at me over lunch.

Then we slowly cleaned up the living room and got the kids redressed (Calli was on her fourth g-d outfit) and switched laundry again.

Then we walked to Home Depot for hasps so that I can lock the fucking food cabinets. (There are foods you can eat all you want of and there are foods you need to eat in moderation. Any time Shanna is out of sight of an adult she is sneaking into foods she knows she isn’t supposed to free-feed. I can’t take the screaming and she shows no sign of being interested in stopping.)

Then we walked to dance class. This walk was three miles to get from our house to this point. Calli and I hung out during class and did ok. After class we got to walk another 1.7 miles home (up the big darn hill). Then I got to finish making dinner.

After dinner I folded three loads of laundry, brushed/flossed Shanna, did thirty minutes of kitchen cleanup (more fucking dishes). I made new soda water bottles for tomorrow.

It’s weird how I feel like I do a lot yet feel like I don’t do anything. I don’t feel useful. It’s going to take at least another one hundred hours before the yard is properly weeded. I’m about eight hours in. I want to cry. Instead I will work. Before and after engagements for the next couple of weeks. I would like to get some seeds in the ground (I’d really like corn this year) so I need to get my ass in gear. I need everything in the ground and ready to go before we go camping or I will miss the growing season. So that’s three weeks. Good thing the girls go to visit their Godmamas this week. I may spend the entire time weeding.

I’m tired.

I can’t help thinking that the best part of my day comes in the middle of the night. Post-kids I have to wake up for the bathroom multiple times a night. When I come back to bed Noah grabs me like I am his security blanket and makes soothing sounds and starts massaging me basically in his sleep. I feel wanted and loved and secure. I feel so lucky to be married to him.