First of all, thank you so much for your encouraging comments yesterday. Gretchen hit the nail on the head when she said, "some days just transcend the word bad." Yes. That is what happened.
When I was a teenager and full of teenager turmoil I had this reoccurring image in my head, an image of a room. It was so vivid it was suffocating and I can picture it, even now. It was a room that was dark and crowded and filled with sharp and burning things. There wasn't an easy exit; there was nowhere to turn that wasn't painful. When I would get upset, I could picture myself in this room turning around and around looking for a path. There wasn't one. There was one safe chair and I would sit back down, knowing I was going to be stuck there in that safe-chair for awhile. I was stuck in that room and that chair for years.
Yesterday morning was truly terrible. I don't like to admit to myself or anyone else that I have really bad mom days because I don't like to dwell on them. I like to get my act together and tra-la-la along. I fast forward through the hard parts of what I do everyday and focus on the many wonderful parts. I do not do this to fake people or myself out. I do it because I am not in that chair in that dark room anymore. I am in a different room full of pretty things and tangible love and sunny lemonade air and I like it here.
But still. Yesterday. It was terrible.
One thing after another led to a perfect storm of frustration and lots of tears. I tried to fix things. I tried praying, I tried hiding in Clark's bed for a few minutes, I tried taking the kids outside. Each move led to a new bigger problem and the volume on the wailing and whining kept increasing. After a few hours I truly felt that I was undergoing some kind of torture and found myself yelling back at my three year old in a voice I have never used before, a voice that scared my one year old and made her cry and then made me cry. I was done. D-O-N-E done.
It was the very lowest low I have felt in the three and a half years I have been a mom.
I have never before felt that bad about myself and my ability to be in charge of these babies and run a house and keep up with everything and do a good job. I felt like a giant red flashing failure. A giant red flashing failure who is having another baby in 13 weeks.
And then an image popped into my head. I felt myself spontaneously visualizing it and then it came clearly into focus. I remembered the room image that I couldn't chase away as a teenager and this felt just like that. Except it wasn't a room. It was a big heap of clay, like modeling clay or something. It was filled with garbage and trinkets and junk. I could see it there in my mind, clear as a photo, and I somehow felt it was me and I was that stuff, all of it, trinkets and garbage and clay. I prayed again and asked God to help me get all of my junk sorted out. I know He knew what I meant.