Don't Panic, No, Not Yet.

It's the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and I have one more class to attend before break.  I love school, but I am so ready for a few days off.  Then only one week of classes and finals week.  I think my grades are all A's right now, but we'll see how the rest of it goes.

The last few weeks have been crazy, even for us.  We had the house inspected for the end loan, and that means Toby spent about six weeks working on the business and working on the house nonstop.  I am taking thirteen credit hours this semester, and that's plenty.  I was also required to spend 32 hours observing for one of my classes, so I've been going to Diamond High School three days a week after my college classes.  I actually love this more than skipping from class to class for an hour at a time.  I got to know the teacher and the students, and I'm going to miss them.

We've managed to keep things afloat, somehow.  I'm not going to say it's always been pretty.  There are so many Little Caesar's boxes around here it looks like we hosted a frat party.  The floors are sticky and need a very good scrub.  But the kids are clean and healthy and not too neglected.  So now we can move on a little.

I get a little prickly when someone finds out how many kids we have, and asks me in an awed voice how I have time for school.  I know they don't realize this adds to the ball of mother-guilt in my chest, the one that tells me I'm a horrible mom for doing anything besides taking care of my house and my family.  I feel like they are asking me why I don't love my family enough to devote my time to them.

You know what I have realized?  I am a better mom now.  I am working toward something that will provide financial stability for my family. I am providing an example to all of my children that education is important.  I am excited to go to school, and I like getting feedback that I'm good at it.  I have more energy to take care of the house and my children, because I'm not depressed.  That's pretty huge for me.  I spent about ten years taking care of everyone else, resenting it, and feeling awful all the time. 

It is crazy.  But so is having seven kids.  I think once we crossed the threshold of impossibly difficult, adding a few more responsibilities seems fairly doable.  (Not that I don't get overwhelmed sometimes.  I burst into tears about three times last week.) 

Plus, things are starting to calm down.  The house is mostly done, and all we need to do now is some carpet in the attic and a few pieces of trim.  Only a couple of weeks of school are left.  We spent all hour Halloween money on finishing the house, and customers all wait until Black Friday to get a great deal on grab bag corsets, so next week we'll have money again.  It's all calming down, or will soon.

Can I give a shoutout to my drums?  Playing a musical instrument is emotionally cathartic...drums doubly so.  Playing drums always makes me feel better.  I turn stress and sadness into sound and sweat and it is glorious.   I broke my first stick last week, and was chuffed about it.  A day later I noticed that I've also put several cracks into my crash cymbal...and I'm not so thrilled about that.  I'm working on changing my cymbal technique from a swat to a glancing caress. 

In conclusion, crazy busy, light at the end of the tunnel, drums.  The end.