My Problems Are Big, But My God Is Bigger

2016 has started off horribly for me.  I am just weary, down, sad.  I know I try to be chipper and friendly on here, but I just can't.

All 3 of my kiddos are in trouble, somehow.  I had a complete emotional breakdown last night where my poor sister had to spend hours keeping me from losing my fool mind.  I won't get into details, because they deserve privacy, But my life is a complete disaster, picking up after them, saving their tails, paying for stupid things they've done...and I'm tired.  I have two grown adults who need me as much as they did as toddlers, and a 17 year old child who will never grow up and be on his own.  He will always need me.  I prayed for years that he would be able to grow up, move out, get married, have a job...and reality crashed in on me and I know it's not going to happen.  I cried on my sister while she told me that I was a good mom, that I tried my hardest, that I gave up so much.  But it didn't make me feel any better.  I just cried, and cried, and cried.  Then I took a deep breath and cried again.

But I woke up this morning, and feel better.  The truth is, God gives us free will to make decisions for ourselves, and sometimes they're dumb decisions.  He loves me and I still do dumb things, too.  And I still love my kids, even though they are currently doing things that hurt me so bad it takes my breath away.

So I live another day.  I go to work.  I laugh with my coworkers.  I pitch in 6 bucks for Powerball, because why the heck not.  I pray.  I read my Bible.  I hug those kids even though they drive me up every wall known to man.  I do my laundry, sweep my floors, and make dinners.  I take the phone calls, answer the texts, play with the dogs, and I dream.  I dream in color.  In most of my dreams, I'm alone and I'm happy.  I live in a cute house by myself, and have a short hair cut, and drive a Fiat, and go to farm stands where I don't have to pick anything out based on what other people want.  If I want broccoli, I'm getting the damn broccoli.  Because no one matters but me.  I know it sounds selfish, but I literally jump into to bed at night so I can dream about my pretend life where I'm thinner, happier, eat what I want, have a great career, wear clothes I love, decorate the house the way I want, and drive the car I want.  I know it's escapism.  And I love it.

My next car will be a Fiat.  Oh yes.  I love them.

I like the car I have now, the Dodge Dart, but I got it because it was practical and my boys can comfortably sit in the back seat.  The Fiat will be when only Bucket lives at home.  So I dream about my tiny Fiat, which will have a car seat in the back for my chihuahua,  In my dreams, I change between having a leopard print sofa and a red one.  And I will have a place to do my make up, and get monthly massages and hair colorings.  Do I sound silly?  It's okay to be silly, I think.  I wake up pretty refreshed, and it's almost like playing Barbie Doll House, except I'm an overweight Barbie and I don't want a pink Corvette.  And definitely no Ken.

I am ready for bed...think I'm going to paint my imaginary bedroom navy blue and put stars on the ceiling.  There is no one to stop me...