The things I think, but never say out loud...

...it's getting dark in my room right now, the blinds are closed and I am too lazy to turn on the light. I can hear the sound of Matthew taking plates out of the cupboard, no doubt to feed the kids--my job, but I am too lazy to get up and do it. Today we blessed our daughter Olivia at our church (I say we, but really it was just Matthew who blessed her. I don't have the priesthood--and that's ok, because really, I am too lazy for the responsibility.) It was supposed to be a spiritual day, as most Sundays are supposed to be. But this was supposed to be a special spiritual day, a day to thank Heavenly Father for the new life we are now in charge of. A day of family and a day of happiness. But for me, as most Sundays actually are, it was anything but. It was chaos. It was my mother getting mad at me for not letting her take the sacrament. She's not a Mormon, and for some reason when she takes the sacrament, it really bugs me--I know, stupid, we let our kids, not yet baptized take it, but that's how I feel. It was Aidan's constant out of control behavior, it was Parker throwing up on the newly shampooed carpets, and it was my father-in-law's subtle jab that I never let my husband go hunting (which is true, but I spend ten hours a day away from him as he attempts to impress the bosses and further his career-- so, too bad, he's spending labor day at home with his kids!) It was sore feet, knees, and a back from hours of cleaning to help me feel like at least my house is half way decent, even though my neighborhood has gone to hell. And it is, that every day, in one way or another, life is just never what I want it to be. I think these things a lot, especially when it's dark in my room and I am too lazy to turn the light on. When I can hear Matthew in the other room with the kids, mostly yelling because he's the lone parent on duty, trying to give me a break and some time to myself to think about these things I never say out loud-- except to him. Except to the one person on this planet that doesn't care that I think these things. Who loves me when I'm grouchy, when I'm unfair, when I'm overbearing, when I've failed as a mother (which is most days), when I say mean things, when I slip and use bad language (which is most days), when I make him do more than his fair share (which is not most days, usually just Sundays) because I am too lazy to do my fair share, and when I cry because I am all of these things. He doesn't judge me. He just holds me tight and whispers all of the things I need to hear. These are the things I think, but never say out loud. And I probably won't say them out loud again, because really I should just keep my thoughts to myself. Except for tonight. Tonight was for me, because today was for him. Today meant more to him, than it did to me--and for them, because they mean most of all.