Mother of Seven + 2

I have had many friends express their concern and love for our family throughout this year.  In fact, I have a stack of cards sitting on my desk right now to which I'd like to respond personally because each one came at a time when the love and words were desperately needed. I feel bad because I have not been able to do so.  Thus I am blogging in an attempt to answer my many friends who have been concerned about how I am doing.   Emotionally, I have good moments and bad moments, good days and bad days,  good weeks and bad weeks.  At times I feel like I am doing well, and then I find myself struggling.  So I may tell you I am good, and I probably am in that moment.  However, I can be crying in the next moment.  Sometimes I can talk about it and even need to talk about it.  Sometimes it hurts too bad to talk. My husband sent me to a counselor who ordered me to take care of myself.  She said I needed to refill my cup which has been drained so that I would have something to give to

I am going to be brutally honest here about Mother's Day. I don't like it much. Every year I have hopes and expectations.  They get crushed within moments of getting out of bed.   As usual I was the first one up this past Sunday morning.  I showered early so there was plenty of time to get everyone up and ready for church.  As I came downstairs I noticed the breakfast table wasn't set.  At our house this is a regular chore.  It is to be done at bedtime each night by one of the children.  Mother's Day.  It was forgotten.  Not done. My mind started its fuming.  I have to admit I had a temper tantrum.  I decided right then and there I would get myself ready, and we would see how everyone else managed on their own. 7:15 rolled around.  One child showed up.  I asked, "You up to make some breakfast?"  My hopes were squashed as she headed to the shower. 7:45.  Children rolled out of bed.  They wanted to know when breakfast was.  I told them I didn't k