Time to Vent - CAUTION: whining ahead

It is officially one month into 2nd year and I officially do not like it.  I am remarkably cranky today and since I don't have a husband to talk to anymore, you get to hear all about it.

For the record, my husband is amazing.  He accomplishes so much on so little sleep, he tries hard to please his loony wife, and he is flippin' awesome at everything that he sets his mind to.  James has always been obscenely optimistic, lighthearted, and jolly.  He is a constant source of laughter and silliness in our home.  He doesn't usually let things bother him, he forgives so quickly, and apologizes even more quickly.

Dental school has brought us a new version of James.  The dude is a stress monkey.  He is frustrated with his teachers (who don't know how to speak properly), he is less confident than usual (thanks to impossible tests), and his eyebrows are furrowed a great deal of the time.

Now it would take much less stress to make me permanently cranky.  Lately, my patience seems to be lost before breakfast.  Darren is officially 2 years-old.  Darren's version of 2 is a kid who wants to be held all the time, wants to be outside anytime he is not being held, and can undo any form of cleanliness faster than I can spell cheese.  This makes for a very messy Burneson house.

A friend gave James & I some advice at our wedding.  She said, "There is less tension is a clean house."  How very true that is!  Let's just say things here are tense.

I find myself rather emotional lately.  I am struggling with my own feelings of inadequacy.  I wish I was a better homemaker, a better mom, a better teacher, a better Primary President, a better athlete (I use that term loosely - meaning I just wish I could rock it at the gym like the rest of you girls), a better dietitian, a better decorator, and a better dresser (meaning fashion not furniture).   While I wholly embrace all that is mommyhood, I would really like to look physically less like a mom.  I don't mind the diaper bag, the zoo train of kids at the supermarket, or the fat minivan that I drive.  I do mind the love handles, the stringy hair, and the lack of nice clothes and good accessories.

I realize how worldly I sound right now.  But I'm working on balance.  How do you find balance between taking care of yourself, presenting a respectable version of yourself, and the vanity that makes you think you need better earrings, new shoes, and new lip gloss?

The masses in Kansas City are reproducing.  4 women on my block alone are expecting.  It is making me crazy jealous!  I wanted more than 3 kids.  I still do.  But thanks to the life sucking disease known as hyperemesis - pregnancy is no longer an option for us.  I am left feeling frustrated at news that should bring joy.  I adore all my pregnant friends and hope they don't mind my comments here.  I envy you girls.

So as you can see, I am a bit of puddle right now and we're only 1 month in to the most challenging year of our lives thus far.  My super hero husband has been transformed (not unlike Spiderman in his new dark suit).  I am a bit overwhelmed, and little things seem gigantic.

For now I'm going to be okay with not moving forward.  Instead, I will pray that I can do as Elder Holland suggests, which is to plant my feet and just stand against this storm.  Sometimes enduring takes an awful lot of work. 

Just 227 days until the end of second year.  Can she make it?  Perhaps with the comfort only a carton of Bryers and a very large spoon can bring.

P.S. For the record I DO think that my hero in his dark suit is still very attractive!  Love ya babe!