It's hard to discern what emotion you are experiencing when you have so many different things going on at once. So many emotions are happening, they cancel each other out. And then its like, which one makes me sad? Which one makes me happy? Which one am I scared of? Why am I angry? Do I have this glimmering feeling of hope because of this thought that just crossed my mind or that one? Which way am I supposed to go?
I'm sure writing about it would help, but I just don't want to. I'm too tired from wearing all of these feelings everyday and trying to keep up with school and giving my last burst of energy to my kids to keep them happy and on a good track. Cause when I'm happy and excited, they are. ANd when I am tired and angry, they act out. Not an impossible task, it just takes a lot! But I wouldn't trade it for the WORLD.
I love my kids. I love to hug them and tickle them and give them projects and see how proud they are when they finish and how each one of them is so different and can do the same project that turns out in such different ways. I love to be there for them when they have exciting news like "all star student of the week," or a good report card, or a new sibling, or just to hear how excited they are to go home and have family pizza night. I wish I could have them for more time, and give them more and help them to get out of their situation. Or at least inspire them to try harder. I fear for many of them when they leave us, who is going to push them to do their homework every night? And even if they have that, how many of their parents/grandparents/guardians are going to make them do it over until they have put their best effort into it? And how often will they be told they are important and can do anything they want and give them the support to reach those goals?
Well, there's one thing that is on my mind, I guess I've gotten that one sorted out! Only a thousand more to go.
I started a book I picked up from the non-fiction section. I was looking for a book for Amber about President Lincoln ( I was still stressing abut her birthday gift because I couldn't for the life of me remember any of things she had not so subtly be hinting at for the past month except for a teapot. Which I later remembered to be perfume. Don't ask how I got that so mixed up. I have no idea.) This one was on the shelf above all the Lincoln books and was all shiny with the fancy lettering and everything. I picked it up and read the introduction, and was hooked. I brought it home and left it in my car (cause I am too lazy to take things out... I still have luggage in there from december) and was able to pick it up when we were house hunting and had a little time on our hands between appointments. 
Bitter is the New Black (Confessions of a condescending, egomaniacal, self-centered Smart-ass, or why you should never carry a Prada Bag to the unemployment office). It's a memoir about a successful woman that gets laid off shortly after 9/11 and has to deal with not having the financial security to shop and pamper herself all the time as she has become accustomed to doing. And she uses sarcasm at every opportunity. Including footnotes for further smack-talk. I LOVE it. Because I appreciate good sarcasm and well-earned verbal beatings. 
