Ok, so may it is only one ponderance!
I want to know why is it that thinking about life makes me think so much about death?
If you know, please inform me!
It is driving me crazy and we all know that I am pretty good at that on my own!
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The stories on my blog are just quirky, little bits of my days with my children!
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About Me
- Momma B
- I am 30 some years old. I have 1 step, 4 bio, and 2 adopted kids, so I am no stranger to chaos! They range in age from 18 months to 16 years, so it is always interesting! I have been staying at home for 2 years, because I could not afford gas and day care both! Recession, who says there is a recession? The American people have it great, right? Anyway, my husband supported the idea of me being home, so that is just the way it is for now. Sadly, right after I quit last year my mom got sick again and we lost her in Sept., so my being home was really helpful to her and me if I really stop to think about it! I guess that is enough of my crazed babbling for this section!
1 comment:
The hormones are about to kill me right now. I caught up on blogs today, and one of the ladies I follow, the one with four little kids, the same lady I was telling you the story about her infant whose heart problem was healed. Her little guy ended up in the ER over the weekend for being severly short of breath and weezing, choking, and coughing. They gave him two different nebulizer treatments, and the second one sent his hard into a frenzy. His heart had been beating at about 300 beats per minute and had finally started to go down to 220 for very short pauses and then back to 300. Her last blog post said basically that God doesn't make mistakes and she and her family still trust Him, no matter what his ultimate decision is for her little guy. I have just wanted to lay on the couch and cry for her all afternoon. It just hurts so much. And she posted a picture of him hooked up to some wires and stuff. Man did that hurt to look at, and she is taking it so much differnetly than I would. Ugh...I just can't handle it.
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