Today has been a day of tears for me...frustrated tears, proud tears, angry tears, sick tears.
Frustrated tears for the incredible disappointment when I tried using the three USB cords to download my pictures. Because NONE of them fit! And then when I went to order another from Sony, it is out of stock. Sigh.
Proud/sad tears for my baby boy. Tonight was graduation at ELCA. I knew several seniors, and it was a proud, bittersweet moment to see them take that next step in their lives. At the very end of graduation, the outgoing seniors and juniors had a candle lighting service, passing the baton so to speak to the soon to be seniors. To my little boy. To my boy who it just seems like yesterday was crawling around my living room in his cowboy boots, eating tons of cherry popsicles, and laying in my lap while I rubbed his head. My little boy who so bravely stepped up as "man of the house" when his daddy left. My little boy who made rock and bug museums out of boxes in our garage. And there he was, in his school uniform looking nothing like that little boy, and so much like a man. And now...he is a senior. double sigh.
Angry tears for just about everything this morning. I don't know why Sunday mornings are so rough on me. Maybe it's because I don't get up before everyone else and am rushed. Maybe its because I have to get myself up and dressed, make breakfast, get Hannah up and dressed, give Hannah a treatment, all in the time everyone else leisurely gets themselves ready. Maybe it's Satan, trying to detstroy my peace. Anyways...I am not proud of my behavior--a simple "Hey guys, I need some help on Sundays" would suffice...maybe...but instead I chose to be angry and cry.
Sick tears because after one month and 19 days, I am still sick. And I am so tired of being sick. Tired of the wheezing. Tired of feeling like I can't get enough air. Tired of not sleeping. Tired of the coughing. And most of all tired of not being able to do a darn thing about it, and not being able to get a doctor...any doctor...to do anything about it. Not my OB, not my regular doctor, not the doctor at the walk-in clinic.
Having cried my way through my day...I am hoping tomorrow is tear free!
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