Yesterday was an 18-freakin-hour day, and from waking til laying down, every single task I focused on was for someone’s else’s benefit.  Except maybe peeing, but even then, as they say, if Mama can’t pee, ain’t nobody happy.

So the parts of yesterday relevant to this blog: the visit.  We (Mark, Nikki, my three, and myself) had a visit with Mom and Dad.  Some time at a local petting zoo, and an hour at McD’s.  It was hot, but the kids were troopers.  Mom and Dad were great, but by the end, I was still sort of resentful at having to fit this into my already super-crowded day.

We also did the typical Independence Day activities: parade (kids had a lot of fun) and fireworks (good also; no one was too scared).  So every given part of my day was okay, but put it all together, and by 10:00 I was running on fumes (and still had in-for-the-week friends coming over).

So right, wah wah.  But then at church this morning, where Mark also pooped his pants (4th time this week, I guess that’s another post), our priest was homilizing on – you guessed it – sacrificing self for others.  It was good, exactly what I needed to hear to stay positive about life.  The problem is, I’m self-sacrificing by nature, so when I stretch myself too thin, I tend to get bitter and crabby, because I feel like I didn’t really have a choice.  I don’t feel noble and heroic because, look, I have to do this.  After all, no one else is.

But if I can connect my suffering to a greater good, well, it tends to reduce that bitterness.  Bitterness morphing into grace, and grace sustains.  (It’d better, because nothing else is getting me through another of Mark’s accidents.)

Anyway, sort of digressing.  Mom still hasn’t come up with any good ideas on how to increase supervised hours.  The only person she came up with sounds a lot more like a very casual acquaintance, and a busy one at that, so I don’t know if anything is really going to come of that.  The whole situation is to the point where it’s stressing me out, because part of me wants to offer to supervise more hours, but a whole lot more of me knows there are lots of reasons not to do that, and all of me is sad for Mark and Nikki.

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