The First Time

This post was written last week while Blogger was not working so it was never posted. Although I am no longer feeling this way, these were valid feelings at the time and I try to keep it honest:

Tomorrow the girls and I will officially move into our new apartment. Sleep, bathe, cook, everything. It is the exciting day that I have been waiting for and all of the sudden I'm crying in the kitchen 'cause I didn't know it was going to be this hard.

Since March we have been in this protective cocoon at mom and dad's house. The house I grew up in. Now it's just us. I'll be the one to check to see if the front door is locked every single night, the only one to see if my kids are running into the street, I'll take out every bag of trash, make all the hard decisions myself. Lastly, I'll be the only one to scold the children when they are outside naked peeing in the garden and the neighbors start yelling (this actually happened.) No wonder I was feeling shaky. I didn't know it would be so lonely. That caught me by surprise. It's just not not supposed to be this way. There is supposed to be a Mommy AND a Daddy.

So I came home and did the only thing I could think to do. I sat down and prayed. Jesus.