Um, where am I?

There isn’t a scale large enough…

from 7/28/2006

To rate this depression. Ever heard of the Beck Depression Inventory… I have, and I know it’s not sufficient to determine this quarry I am in.

But I don’t wallow. Not because I am some great saint, filled with patience that comes from a true understanding of the redemptive glory of suffering. I WISH! No, I don’t wallow because I simply can’t.

What would I do? Spend hours crying and wailing? Right! And cause G to go on a nursing strike? No! Anytime J finds me crying, he can’t take it. “Momma, you ok? Momma be ok, please. I love you.” Followed by lots of light, feather kisses. I cannot do that to him. Heck, that kid has been through way too much already.

Take the last time D stopped by. He came in to use the bathroom and J got so upset, he just cried “No, Dada, outside, no inside. Go away.” Oh, and on top of that, he pooped himself!

So, there ya go… that’s why I don’t wallow. Thank God, I am a mother. It is my salvation.

posted by H F J @ 9:52 AM