*Deep breath*

It has been a very rough morning.  Patience is all gone, I am running on empty and am still expected to give to two sick, grumpy children.  I want to scream.  I want to yell.  So I did.  Josh texted me this morning asking how the kids were and I let him know just how difficult they had been.  At this point he offered to take them for the evening and I can't even begin to explain the seething anger that rolled through and shook my entire body.  He knew (as I had told him a year ago) if he ever ended up with this woman, our children would NEVER be allowed near her. So Josh leaves me and the kids for this woman and her child and then tries to take them over there to all be together?!  I was livid and let him know as much via text.  he said he only wanted to take care of his kids and something inside of my snapped.  I finally broke or gave in to the anger because I called him up and let him have it:
"you want to take care of the kids?  Then you shouldn't have moved in with HER!" You want to take care of the kids? Then you shouldn't have left them! You want to take care of the kids? then how about you pay me the child support you owe me! You want to take care of the kids? Then how about you man up and grow a pair, and talk to my parents or apologize or do something to show contrition so you are at least allowed over her once in a while! You do not want to take care of the kids, or you would have made some very different choices." I admit I had yelled all of this, and while I was in another room, my children still heard me yelling.  I hung up and walked back into the kitchen where my children were eating their breakfasts when my sweet little two year old looked up and chastised me by saying, "no yell at dad, mommy."  It had felt good to yell.  to cream at him for once, but that simple phrase broke my heart and I remembered why I try so hard to put my pride away.  I can feel hurt and broken without having to return it, despite the desire to do so.  This whole growing, trying, stretching thing is sooooo hard when all I want to do is punch him in the face, scream, cry and say all the mean hurtful things that I feel.
However, I already know the growth and the endurance is worth it.  What a great reminder with all the talks given in General Conference.  I felt so many of the talks were directed specifically at me, but overall there was the feeling of hope, endurance, reward.  Oh how I love my religion and my God.  The very thing I was rejected for (my religion and motherhood) are the very things that make me great.  That help me be even greater than I thought possible and what puts me in contact with greatness.  Last night a member of my church came over with ice cream and sat and talked with me.  I did not really know this lady beforehand, but like me, she is striving to be Christ-like and that is exactly what she was as she sat and listened and talked and got to know me, a fellow sister in Zion.  I love my religion for all that is blesses me with, despite the trials that strain me. 
Last night when I went running, I met a lady on the track who said hello asked how I was and of course I repeated the same inquiry.  I loved her answer when I asked her how she was she responded with "blessed."  That is exactly it.  No one wants to hear how crappy your life is and honestly, it isn't something I want to dwell on and I certainly wouldn't admit to being good, well, or great.  So like my fellow runner, I plan on using that as my answer as a reminder of everything I do have, and great is the number of my blessings!