Blogging When I Should Be Loading the Van

I had a really hard time sleeping last night. Ken wanted to go out to eat last night. He really didn't want to do much moving and Karlita didn't want to remove her velcro self from my leg. When daddy said restaurant she lit up like a lightning bug. So, off to the restaurant we went. I found out that cheese sauce over broccoli will cause her to eat the darn broccoli. To think I've struggled to get her to eat veggies for months now when I could have just pulled out the velveta. Sigh. Why do I fight the processed foods so much? Who cares if the kids eat gasoline? I'm only half kidding here. Last night my legs hurt so badly I could not sleep. Its been months since I felt that kind of pain. Its good to experience that every once in a while as it helps to remind me to be thankful. I feel so thankful this morning as the pain has lessened, but I'm exhausted. The girls are still asleep and Beau is at school. I should be loading the van to take things to the house. I'm not sure how Karley will wake up. I don't know if it will be a moving morning or a cuddle on the couch morning.

I'm not sure Ken will be open to it but I think I am going to rent a truck from Home Depot and see if he will bring the beds over tonight. We really need to just move in to the new house. The new house needs a washer, dryer, and refrigerator. Ken said he saw a few on Craigslist that said they'd deliver and said he'd find me some that would deliver this evening. I want to say that I am trusting in God to work it out, but the reality is that I woke up feeling I was going to throw up. We have the money budgeted for this expense. Its just having to find the items in the budget and then figure out how to get them to the house. Its really not the end of the world. I'm not sure why I feel this tremendous anxiety. Perhaps its because the boys come home tomorrow. I thought blogging would make me feel better, but its just making me feel like I'm wasting time. I'm getting off and going to see if my mother will come over with her truck. My dear mother really and truly means well but each time she comes over she leaves a deposit on my soul. She says things to me like, "I knew your husband was no good. I don't know how you could ever share your bed with that black man." Really. She doesn't realize this makes me wonder how she feels about my son and it makes me just wish my heart would stop beating. Yesterday she said something about at least I'm losing weight so I'll have a chance of finding something else and then she went "shopping" in my house and let me know what item of furniture she was going to be taking from my house. I don't have it in me to stop her from taking this item of furniture because to tell the truth she has been a huge help to me moving things over to the other house. She is a ridiculously strong woman. When we were growing up she moved most of our things herself. She was a compulsive mover. We moved every six months all of our childhood. She also has said lots of really positive things like, "You are going to be okay." And she's told me that if she did it on her own that I can do it on my own as well. The problem is that she sneaks in a jab every once in a while that is pretty significant and deep and all the positive she has to say gets lost in that jab. I guess I probably should say that I think my mother must suffer from some sort of low IQ/Narcissistic personality disorder/post-traumatic stress disorder that has never been treated. This wasn't my attempt at cruelty, but rather my layman's guess at diagnosing my mother's condition. I know she went to a military doctor once when I was a young child and he gave her an Rx for valium. Her life has actually been very sad as I am sure you can probably imagine and she is obviously doing the very best she can do. Oh well, I am verbally leaking here when I should be doing something productive.