Lately I find myself very less motivated and eating a lot more chocolate. I could find 5000 excuses why; it's my thyroid, I'm tired, I don't get enough cholocate (big lie), I worked out today, etc. etc. Really I just need to get it under control! Reading my blog today made me realize how far we have come as a family. I've always hated this thing, but today, it was really fun to read. We've actually gone to a restaurant recently with the kids and enjoyed ourselves. It made me feel really thankful. It made me see outside of myself a little bit more today. Life is not now, nor will it ever be, perfect. I am happy with that idea, but I shouldn't get too comfortable with it I think. I think it's good to be striving for something a little better.
   I've started a poetry journal recently. It's kind of embarrassing, I'm not gonna lie. I hate sharing my internal thoughts with others, it makes me SOOOO uncomfortable. It's so....open. What if they think it's dumb? I really just need to throw the dang thing at people and force them to read it because maybe just then I'll let go a little bit. It's fun to feel inspired to write, I'm hoping something useful actually comes out of my brain and onto the paper. Then maybe I can add some chords on the piano behind it, and maybe, just maybe, someday I'll be brave enough to share it with someone. I'm such a chicken I swear. That's my most recent hurdle: killing the chicken inside. Taking risks. It's getting easier. I'm doing it a little at a time and it feels good.

Hair color= avalanche

It's rather amazing to me how one decision can trigger something as catastrophic as an avalanche. One decision can set in motion a series of events, and once that series of events has momentum it is hard to stop. That's how I feel about my hair color.

    So I decided to go brunette for the first time since I was in high school. Brunette is actually a lot closer to my real hair color than blonde is and I decided it was time to quit pretending. I guess I've been needing change in my life lately. I felt like someone a little different on the inside so now how about letting everyone see someone a little different on the outside.  I didn't realize how something as simple as changing your hair color can trigger an avalanche. In fact, looking back I realized that my first blog post in over 2 years was the day after I colored my hair. I've been in a dark, unhappy place for months now. Funny how that is, now that my marriage is much more stable that I seem to be the one lost. I don't really know how to explain the change in me, but I'm not joking that it started with my hair. And then came the major recognition: it made me feel like someone different. It made me feel like someone who could find confidence, passion, strength, and yet still be an empathetic person. I don't know why I a hard time balancing all of if, but for some reason when I try to be confident I become snobby instead and that's definitely the person I DON'T want to be. I want to be a confident person who can still reach out to others instead of letting my fears take over and hide me inside of my house. As I think back a little more, I don't really think it started with my hair. I think it started to happen a little while before that but when I went to my amazing Me'chell Thomas to get my hair all did is actually when I think I started  to recognize the change myself. So here's to the future, and I think it's a bright one. I hope for it to be filled with more smiles on my part. More compassion and understanding for people and especially those people who are different from me or might have a different belief system(this one is hardest of all). More confidence in my decision. More strength to be a leader and an example to others. And more acceptance of myself as a great person and a person of strength. I think now that I've begun to realize that I am someone of value that I can take those risks on people and it won't be so scary. It obvious that if you don't believe in yourself it's hard to believe in others too.
    I want to dream big again. I remember when I was young I used to love to sit and play piano and sing while I played. I hated it when anyone would catch me so I would be sneaky and do it while no one was around. Now I wonder to myself why I was so selfish? Why didn't I just sing at the top of my lungs? WHY DIDN'T I TAKE SOME FREAKING RISKS? Sorry to my neighbors who are going to be hearing me sitting at the piano singing a lot, I'll probably be off pitch, but I don't care because it comes from the heart and I LOVE IT! It makes me feel a love, makes me feel passion, and very rarely do I sit at the piano and sing without it bringing me to tears at some point. It's one a the only places I feel like raw emotion is free to flow. I want to be brave, maybe write some songs, make them something that I would be proud of and not worry about what others think. And that's the key: do it for myself and no one else (ok maybe for my fam too). :) Good night. 

Zumba killed my body today

So today I finally had a lightbulb moment, you know, one of those unique times where it finally all becomes clear. Let me start by saying this about my lightbulb moment: I'm not very good at confidence or initiative. That would pretty much sum up my lightbulb moment. For some dumb reason, I think I've been trying to figure out the answer to this since before I was even pregnant with Ella. After having her, times were rough and busy. They are still rough and busy, but at least there is bedtime. Ahhh, beloved bedtime. I digress, anyway my lightbulb moment seem to clarify my trials instantly. It seemed to clarify a couple things for me; number one being the doubts that I have in friendships and that it is time to move on and let go. I don't really feel like anyone in our neighborhood/ward cares even a tiny bit about us. This makes me really sad. I don't think I am half bad, but it seems like people don't think twice about us (we'll go in to detail in next paragraph). The other thing that became much more clear to me was what a difference confidence makes. Even if you are completely faking it!!! So let's clarify both:

     The whole friendship in the neighborhood/ward thing has really been weighing on me for quite some time. I feel dejected and I feel like it's my fault that some people don't want to be friends with me or us. This is actually probably true on some level and some of that I can never recover from, I have to just take it as a loss. None of it was intentional, I just maybe put my foot in my mouth too many times or was too hard on someone instead of caring about them. I have very impatient empathy, I'm working on taking a step back and having more patient empathy. The realization that some of it is past fixing became very clear to me, but it also became very obvious that I care about it WAY too much. It's time for me to let go of those past friends who have decided to move on to greener pastures and time for me to move on to greener pastures too, only they are the ones who are losing out. I also realized the initiative thing: I'm not being the best kind of friends to the ones I actually have nor am I reaching back when someone has reached out to me. Why? SOO much fear of rejection! So much fear of not measuring up, and sometimes, the lack of energy to actually try at the friendship. I could try a lot harder with Janelle, but friendships take hard work and sometimes I am too selfish with my time and energy and friendship seems like a waste of that precious time and energy. That is until I realize that everyone else is off having fun, but I'm in time and energy saving-land instead. 

       Confidence in my profession and how it completely changes what I do. I need to let go of my doubts about me and what I am doing. They follow me around like a plague and stress me out to no end. I don't know what I am like this, it's of course probably a combination of conditioning and genetics. In other words, on some level I have learned the way I have become. When I was younger I was not afraid to be myself and be a little ridiculous. Once you hit junior high that all changes and I can tell that's when I turned a corner. I decided that hiding was much safer than actually standing up and being proud of who I am. It's sad that it's taken me so many years to figure this one out. 33 years old and I still fill like I have to fight with myself everyday to be more confident. I find myself swaying to the easier side of things, taking the easier road and trying not to care when other people pass me up, but I really do. Some of it has been because I have been very busy raising my family. And now maybe I am ready to face the fact that I am just as fabulous as I want to be, and likewise I am just as sloppy as I let myself be. I see a lot of my inhibitions in my little sister and it makes me sad to watch her give into her inhibitions. I want joy and happiness for her too. It's like watching a little part of yourself fail when I see the way she lets life push her down and she doesn't get back up and fight, or maybe she gets back up but she starts fighting the wrong person or the wrong battle. Anyway, digress again.
    

Silver Linings is my life. Without the romanticism.

It's funny how really anyone on the internet could stumble upon this and read it, but I cringe at the thought of anyone I actually know every reading it, especially my family. Jackson has snuck a peek, Kyle tried to, but my lightning fast safari-hiding skills beat him to the punch. 
    I love Reagan Serr. Someday when I am old and grey I will probably forget who she is, but for now she is my sanity. She is the one escape from my children and she makes A LOT of money from me on a monthly basis. She's worth every penny I pay her. She lets Kyle and I actually go out and be adults while she puts up with our kids. See we don't have that family support system (at least as far as babysitting goes) like everyone else in Utah does. Our families are to busy with their own trials and struggles in life so we just turn to Reagan. She's great, thanks Reagan. So we went to see Silver Linings Playbook last night. I try to ignore previews and reviews and commercials about movies I really want to see because if the previews give away too much I end up being disappointed. I had heard a lot about this movie but tried hard to forget most of it and successfully I did! It reminded me very quickly though, it was a movie about mental illness. And just as quickly I realized how much this movie scared me, because I saw my son in adult form. Beautiful Bradley Cooper adult form. Ahhh, yes Bradley Cooper is a beautiful man and my Ethan is a beautiful little boy. Thank heavens Ethan is so pretty because he is out of control. It was very scary to see those qualities paralleled on the screen, it brought me to tears several times. It was also very honest about how the community responded to Bradley's character, which was harshly. The neighbors stared and gawked and stayed away. We already experience that, I can't even imagine what it will be like when Ethan is an adult and he's able to put up an adult kind of fight. I can still ALMOST out-muscle him, but not for long. 
   The father role (Robert DeNiro) also remind me of my life. Kyle's a little crazy. Not to the extent of that character and probably in a little bit of a different way. It was hard to watch at times. If the movie would have had an unhappy ending that would have been it for me, I would have lost it. Thankfully it was romantic and happy and we both left happy. I could only dream of a romantically happy ending to our situation, I don't know if it will ever come. Right now we are stuck in the trenches and it isn't easy. I wish people WANTED to be our friends instead of pitying us. No one wants to be pitied. So if you want to see what my life will be like in 30 years just watch that movie. It will give you a glimpse into what it is right now. 

"Why fit in when you were born to stand out?”

- Dr. Seuss

My favorite quote in the whole wide world. I've never been one who has like to stand out or have all the attention drawn to me. I hate speaking in front of large groups. Maybe my heavenly father knew that it would be my weakness, so he made me find music. He made me find something that I was so passionate about that I was willing to let my fears go. It's weird to think that my passion for music is what led me to working in the fitness industry, but it really is. I had natural rhythm and timing and not only could follow the steps that were taught, but teaching them came naturally too. That evolved into teaching bootcamps and Yoga and Spinning and yada yada, it's still continuing to snowball. Somewhere along the line I happened to notice that I was being forced to be in front of people and conquer my fear of attention. Well played God, well played. I hate standing out, but I need to get used to the idea if I'm going to do anything important in this world.

     The other thing that makes me stand out? My kids. MY KIDS. Noisy, crazy, attention-drawing kids.  And I love them, but wow have I faced some harsh judgement over them. And just when you think you've met all the judgers, you happen to stumble upon more. So even though this quote by Dr. Seuss is something we preach, I tend to think it reality there are only certain realms we practice it in. For example, stand out, but only if it's in some COOL, innovate, radical kind of way. I don't think my kids fall into that category. They fall in the the annoying, "can you get that out of my face" category.  Oh well, it's good for me. It reminds me to have empathy and love for others. It teaches me to stick to my guns and not back down from what I know is true and right. What i know is true and right is that I am not always a perfect parent and sometimes I lose it under all this pressure. Sorry for those of you who have observed that :) it will probably happen again. I'm practicing those temperance, patience, love skills but they are slow in coming. But do you know what I really love? I LOVVVEEEE it when I see someone else's kids being super naughty. YES! Muhahahahhahaha! I love it when people tell me in frustration about the naughty antics of their children and their chagrin at their children's behavior. I LOVE IT!!!! It's like they've joined my club, and now I know that we can be friends. We can be on the same team! My poor sister-in-law Natalee is dealing with a crazy toddler. I love every minute of it, I relish hearing about how he head-butts people and refuses to take any sort of a nap. She's getting the real parent training and I love it! Now the playing field is leveled. She'll excuse my children and their naughty behavior and I will without a doubt do the same for her. I embrace the chance to have a friend who is surrounded by crazy too! I can't wait for anyone to join it so we can laugh and make fun of each other's trials! So we can agree to not take life to seriously and to turn the other cheek at the know-it-all mom's who would be aghast at us and our children. It's an elite club that only those non-hater, parents of crazy children get to be in. I welcome you to it, but only if you qualify for membership. Only requirements: crazy children and the ability to recognize it sucks FOR ALL OF US.  Oh and you have to bring food too, because we all need some food to eat while we are mocking our families. 

     This is what makes me fear moving. The people in my neighborhood and ward have gotten used to my kids (specifically Ethan), but not without a lot of judgement and finger pointing at the start of it all. We've mostly past that stage. When and if we move (which is soon and coming), it will start all over again. It makes me dread the though of going to church with all those staring people. I mean what else does anyone have to do in sacrament meeting except people watch? Ahhh, I cringe. Deep breaths, gird your loins, prepare for the stares. That's I guess what God has really been preparing me for is the stares. It's not necessarily public speaking, but it should be handled with just as much poise. I'll try to find that poise that was never genetically given me and actually use some of it. Maybe I'll start using it before we move. Unfortunately I found some more people that would rather judge me then understand our family.  It's a good trial, a good thing to be processing in your head: how to I still go out in public (church) without bursting into tears or screaming at the staring people? I'll tell you how, I just do. Stick to my guns, stand up and be strong. I'll be sad that I can't be friends with the newbies in the ward. We're just too much for them and that's okay. But I am not going to lay down and let that define me. I'm feisty. Thanks Dad, for that. Thanks for making me feisty just like you. Or was is Mom? ;)

Dumpy diddy dump

So look at this, two days in a row. That hasn't happened even once on my blog. Ever. Because I don't care enough. But I need somewhere to be honest, somewhere that I don't have to dump on Kyle. A void, not a person, because sometimes I don't trust people. It's not just about trust, but people pity you or they try to fix how you feel, when really you just need someone to listen, somewhere to dump. I trust this blank piece of paper, I trust that it will listen without gossiping to it's other paper friends about my ridiculous feelings and how absurd I am. I trust it won't judge or criticize the way I feel, it will just let me be, let me get it out, and help me to feel a little more relieved. Maybe I will sleep without stressing over my absurdities. Maybe tomorrow the things that worry and bother me now won't bother me so much tomorrow, because I dumped it out on this blank piece of paper.

    I've never been a good journal keeper, I've always kind of hated it. I never really found it necessary, I just saw it as something I was doing for, I guess maybe genealogical purposes, so I never really got far. I wrote in my journal when I was a teenager maybe 20 times. I had better things to do! So much fun to be had I just didn't care about writing! Though at the time I felt I had a lot of concerns and problems, it was a much simpler and less demanding time in life.

   Today was Sunday. Church. Meh. Screaming children in the nursery. No sanctuary. Again, me being selfish. I need sanctuary! But other people need it too and they also need to get their callings done, so here I am, in nursery. Yep. I had hoped for bonding with the other ladies I serve with but I beginning to think that will be another dead end of hopes. So sad, I had high hopes for finding kinship in nursery, but my hopes were dashed today. Just another place that people seem to worry about the dumb details instead of actually supporting each other in the gospel. It's completely my fault I feel that way. I have high expectations of new people I meet. I expect them to not expect me to be perfect, and when they do expect me to be perfect I reject them before they reject me.
    Be Ethan's mom is hard. Being Ella's mom is hard. Being Jackson's mom is a little less hard, but more riddled with guilt because he is a good kid and he doesn't get the attention and accolades he deserves. So let's focus on Ethan. I LOVE Ethan. He's so annoying, so annoying! Yet his is hilarious and crazy and I love it! He gives me a lot of laughs, but most of those laughs are at home. In public, people are very judgmental, and he is very overstimulated. He's loud, crazy, ignores directions, and is down right embarrassing. I'm used to it. Kyle's a little less used to it and a little more easily embarrassed than me. When Ethan starts to be embarrassing I tell him to look around and notice that everyone is staring at him and noticing his inappropriate behavior. Sometimes it works and sometimes he doesn't care.
    Our restaurant vs. kids score in 0 and 2 in the past month. I tried to have a casual meeting before my Zumba conference with my future roommates, two of whom I had never met. Within 15 minutes of being in the restaurant with my 3 kids I had to leave, in tears, with a wake of mess behind me at the table. I was SO embarrassed, but they were amazingly nice and understanding and didn't judge the crazy I was hauling. The waiter was really gracious, and I am really grateful to him. He didn't make us pay for the drinks we had already ordered. He say not to worry and even offered breadsticks free of charge for the road. I declined of course, too much pride. But Olive Garden earned a gold star in my book that day. On our second fail, Kyle and his parents were with us. We went to Denny's. The waitress at Denny's was not gracious and neither were the people. We got a lot of harsh stares and looks from the patrons. I get it, my kids look like a train wreck and we look like horrible parents. Sometimes I care, sometimes I don't. That night, I cared. Today, I care. I care that my children are polarizing. I care that people reject us and never give us a chance. It's lonely here on crazy kid island, but at the same time I would rather die than have those same people pity me. Who wants a pity friend? Never, ever me. I just want real friends, the ones who don't disappear within meeting our kids for a few minutes. The ones who don't see us as broken and someone who needs help. I don't necessarily NEED help me my kids, I more just need acceptance. I don't like being pitied by people. Some people do it because they don't know how else to respond because they feel bad for us. That's the worst kind of friend in my opinion, because they don't really respect you or see you as an equal, they just feel bad for you. I don't want someone to feel bad for me, I just want someone to sincerely be my friend.

     I think I am pretty okay, I think Kyle is too, but the people we are surrounded by make me think otherwise. I am jealous of the clique, though I think the clique is dumb. I am not a clique kind of girl, but the clique still makes me feel bad and excluded, especially when they pounce on the new people and continue to see you as bottom dwellers. I'm not a bottom dweller. Remember, this is how Bonnie feel's, which doesn't necessarily mean it's true, it just means that is how I feel in response to their behavior. I especially feel this way because someone who I thought was my friend rejected me and joined the clique. We'll call her Stella (you like? haha). Stella rejected me about a year and a half ago when we had a falling out. She was in a difficult time of life, and I said stupid things to offend her. I felt bad, I didn't mean to offend her, but sometimes she was pushy and I felt controlled and pushed back. I felt bad, though I shouldn't have. I apologized to her, sat down and had a good talk. I had a couple more after that with her. But after that it was all surface friendship. You know, the kind that's friendly to your face but is just a matter of tolerating you while you are in public. Behind closed doors she doesn't really consider me a friend. And as our distance grew I began to see that she never really did. More selfish banter for me, here it comes. We invited her children to several of our birthday parties, she never once invited mine. When I came to that realization that she didn't even attempt to invite us it made me feel bad, really bad. Then I started to realize other little things, things that made me realize I wasn't really ever a REAL friend in her eyes, I was ALWAYS just a "surface friend", it just took me a long time to realize it. I spent a long time hoping she would get through her "hard time" in life and reach out to me, but I really just watched her find a much more "appropriate" friend and she continued to keep her distance from me and still does. She'll chat on the phone for a few minutes, but it still just seems like she is keeping the peace between us, no desire to actually be friends. I guess it is what it is, but it was someone who I sincerely considered a friend for a long time and she's moved on. It still makes me sad because I really like and respect her, but there is very little like and especially not respect on the other end. Mostly just disdain and tolerating me. Sadness from me, I could use someone who cares. There was a time that my pride made me push anyone and everyone away a little, an arms length if you will. It's funny how things change, and kind of unfortunate at the same time.

     I feel like this dumping thing is making me sound void of joy and that's not true at all. Somedays I find joy, other days it is very hard and I feel very alone. I feel as though I am to learn something very spectacular in life due to the children I was given. Either that or I fear I might lose my sanity because I can't keep up with it all. It sounds ridiculous that these 3 kids put me under the table, but they really do. I'm in over my head. I hope for help somewhere out there. I would like to say I pray for it, and sometimes I do, but I don't trust my prayers. I feel forgotten by everyone, and especially God, if he is really even there. I'm angry. I'm not sure at who or what, but I'm definitely at a pivotal point in my life and my relationship with my faith. I've never felt so tested in my life. When I was a child my faith was firm and unshakeable. Now? It's completely shaken. Forsaken is a better word than forgotten. Completely forsaken. And I pity myself. I am jealous of those who feel edified and spiritual because I am so angry and alone I can't get even close. And duh, of course there are people who work so much harder than me in the church, so much! But I had a fabulous, yet rough 4 years in young women and I really need some love from above poured down on me. Sometimes i feel like if you don't have an obvious crisis (i.e. death, divorce, cancer, etc) then you are not allowed to feel overwhelmed or burdened or to suffer, in the eyes of others that is. They look at you and think, "okay, she's not a single parent, she only has 3 kids, she doesn't have to work a full time job, what's her problem?" I feel selfish for feeling down and forsaken. But I also feel as though I've earned the right. I have A LOT to deal with. A lot I don't share, not even with this paper, yet that is. Maybe someday I'll share the whole of it.

You have to start somewhere

I have always hated my blog. It's been really hard for me to care about updating it. I guess I didn't start to care until I decided I needed my blog to be for me, so here it comes, and sorry to the few of you that are still blogging and my accidentally stumble on this. I finally decided I needed somewhere to dump my crazy, because there is way too much of it in my head. Again sorry if you accidentally read this or if you read it on purpose, but I'm puttin' crap here because I can't put it anywhere else. I'm not going to spell check, edit, or filter. Nope. Because I am the ONLY one reading. Hopefully.
Let's start with divorce. I found out yesterday that an old friend of mine is getting divorced. She used to do my hair, I really like her, we had a lot in common and had become pretty good friends. Then she changed, and it wasn't quickly, it was gradual, but in the end BIG change came. I was really shellshocked when I found out she was getting divorced, but then I wasn't. Of course we would chat a lot when she did my hair. We would talk about our other jobs (at the gym), our kids, we'd gossip, and of course we would talk about our personal marriage struggles. Everybody has them, it was just good girl venting time. I always thought her husband was so nice. He was always very friendly and polite whenever I was there, and never in a creepy way, in a very trustworthy way like you knew that he was a good man.
     In all honesty when I heard they were getting divorced my finger immediately pointed in her direction. I judged her right away. I am sure it's none of my business whose fault it is and I shouldn't point my dirty finger. The more details I heard, the more I feared I was right. She had made things of, let's say plastic, more important than the real things and I could see the change was happening in her when she was doing my hair. That's one of the reasons I stopped going. I started to become very disappointed in her. A normal looking, happy family on the outside, corrupted for what may have been years on the inside. I started thinking, "this is my friend, someone I know well. How could she do this? What kind of person does this? No person like me." I remember that thought process, I was driving in my car, and I remember because I had a profound thought process next, "she used to be just like me. That's why we were friends." I realized that someone just like me decided they are done being married. Someone just like me decided to take different turns in their path in life and ultimately her turns landed her at this. It made me so sad to realize that. Myself and "said friend" had SO much in common! We both loved fitness, nutrition, we had crazy kids, we both loved to talk and laugh. It made me sad to think see her life change as I did. I watched her become more and more self obsessed and more demanding and selfish. And maybe it was my other very fabulous friend who pointed out that "said friend" used to be normal, just like us. She used to each sandwiches and chips everyday and be a normal weight, instead of starving herself, working out 3 hours a day, and getting spray tanned every week. I'm not judging spray tanning or working out or starving yourself for that matter, I am just saying it was a part of her process of downward spiral. It was a small portion of a much bigger picture. She is no longer just like us, and it makes me sad. It also makes me scared. People can be so changed and I'm not saying I am perfect or filled with faith beyond measure, but maybe I am saying that I feel like for the most part the things of the world haven't deceived me into thinking they are better than what I have at home.
   Which brings me to my home. I want to run away from it today. Today is rough. ROUGH. Sometimes I think people think 3 kids is cake. No problem. In all honesty, most days I want to cry. Ethan is everywhere and into everything. Ella is everywhere and into everything. And then there are two more of them that need me! (Jack and Kyle of course). I feel like people expect us to be the normal family but we are SO not. I feel a lot of pressure from the outside for me to take care of everyone else and their family too. I feel responsible for others and I also feel very guilty when I don't help. It's not fake pressure that I create, I promise. It's the phone calls and the facebook messages and the knocks on the door. It seems to never end and sometimes, I feel like everyone else needs me and I am at the bottom of everyone else's list. Yes, it's very self-deprocating and selfish. I know it is. But it's really how I feel: very overwhelmed. OVERWHELMED. No time for happiness because there is always so much work. No time for spiritual edification. Church is PAIN. Church is just work, work, work. I feel jealous of people who go to church and actually get something out of it, because I spend my sacrament meeting trying to keep my children from burning the building down and then I go chase everyone else's children afterwards. I don't even want to go anymore. It's depressing and sad for me. I am sad this is how I feel, but ahhhh it feels good to say it. My testimony is a mess, very a mess. I feel forgotten by my heavenly father. I feel as though I don't matter. I feel like all I am suppose to do is give everything I have until there are no smiles and nothing is left of me. I love to serve, I always have, but I feel as though in that service I should find spiritual upliftment. I haven't. I don't feel the spirit. I don't if know if I think there's anyone up there who is looking out for me. My whole life I have done what's right. I've taken care of others, followed the gospel ( a few naughty exceptions back in my younger years), done good for others, been a good friend. I'm still being good, but maybe now I've come to a point where the service feels in vain and makes me more sad than it does anything. It's hard to be shoved in to the back corner and only have people care about you when there is a job to get done and they need someone to do it. Crazy talk? Probably a little. This is a really hard stage in my life. I go, go , go all day long until the minute I drop into bed and then it starts all over. I am sad that I don't get to enjoy my minutes. I resent reading my scriptures, it just seems like more work at the end of an intensely long day. I resent saying my prayers, it seems in vain. I HATE going to church, it never spiritually edifies me, it only is work work work. More work. More never ending exhaustion. It's all very selfish, I know it, but I am sad and there seems no end in sight.  Depressing end, but Ethan is begging for the computer.