I've lost them. They're gone. And, I have no idea who took my sweet, precious, cuddly, loving babies away, but I would give anything to have them back.

Yeah, right. I know what you're thinking...they're toddlers...those days are gone, right?

Seriously, I had no idea it could be this bad.

Then again, maybe it's not them. Maybe--and most likely--it's all me. I'm trying to figure out how every single night I've gone to bed with an anger-filled heart. Not good, I know...but whaddya do?? It's a constant battle. It never ends. I can't seem to get a break. And the fact that they are angels with Sam doesn't help...it just mounts the emotion a little higher in my chest. And I'm sure they can feel it; so they're feeding off of it, which just escalates every "toddler moment" into a screaming-butt-beating-2-hour battle. Horrible. I hate it. And, like my mom, I have a problem staying calm so I usually end up screaming at them--just like she used to do with me, and just like I always promised myself I would never do with my kids. So then I get upset with myself, pray for 11:40 p.m. to arrive so Sam can take over, and then cry myself to sleep. The alarm goes off 5 1/2 hours later, and it starts all over again. Perhaps the anger and impatience are manifestations of exhaustion...


Please pray for...my attitude, maybe? I'm not sure. Pray for the kids...they've had a rough week--and it's only 7 p.m. on Tuesday.

Love you all. Maybe some pics to come later if I can get Sam to fix some up for me.
~Sarah