My mom sent Zach a $10 bill for his birthday last week. It has been sitting in the same spot on the counter since it arrived. I kept thinking every time I passed it that I really needed to move it somewhere safe, but I was always busy and just moved things around it so it could stay.

Last night we went at a sing-along concert at the elementary school. There was a guy from the State Dept. of Education who had written all these songs about "Dimension Prevention." It was cute and I had fun watching Erin and Zach, but not cute enough for me to want to buy the CDs they were selling afterward for $10 each. Erin and Zach did not feel the same, along with pretty much every other kid there. Did they brainwash these kids? Anyway, I didn't have any money with me, but Zach begged and begged and begged to use his birthday money to buy one of these CDs. I saw my neighbor there writing out a check to buy her kids a couple of the CDs and I asked her if she would add $10 to her check for us. As soon as we got home, I promised, one of the kids would run her the money over. I knew right where the money was, on the counter, of course.

What was I thinking??? We scoured the kitchen and went through every last piece of paper on that countertop. I searched through my bedroom, the bathroom, the boy's room, the baby's room, the piano, my pockets, my wallet, and EVERYWHERE ELSE at least three times each. I could not remember doing anything with this money, but I remember wanting to do something with it so often that I thought maybe I had moved it. I finally texted my neighbor to tell her we couldn't find the money and I didn't have any cash on hand, but I would bring it the next day.

I was soooo frustrated by this point. Seriously, what is wrong with me? Why didn't I put that money somewhere safe as soon as it arrived in the mail? I left it in the worst possible spot. I am really really careful when I clean off my counter and throw things away, but all I could figure was that I had thrown it away. There was simply no other option. I was in feeding the baby and Scott was tutoring a girl on our kitchen table when he sent me this text. "Have you said a prayer? Or asked Erin?" Every time I have ever lost anything -- or anybody has lost anything for that matter -- and Erin has said a prayer, it has been found. EVERY TIME. Even when I was beyond hope that it could be found, it was found. She has built my faith immeasurably. And yet every time, I reach that point where I am sure that this time, this time, it is gone forever. Why is my faith so weak? I struggle to have faith in my own prayers at times like this, but Erin does not, which is why I think her prayers always work. Also, I think I feel that it is my own fault and irresponsibility that the thing is lost in the first place, so Heavenly Father is not going to just show me where something is that I should be able to find myself and shouldn't have lost anyway! Ugh. I dunno.

Anyway, hence the text from Scott about asking Erin to pray. I had not. I was too upset to pray or even ask Erin to pray. Too frustrated to really even respond much to his question. And being the wonderful husband he is, he let me work it out and didn't run off to ask Erin himself, which is something I probably would have done. I tell him later in the evening that I am sure I must have thrown it away because I have checked everywhere else, and he wanted to go through the trash for me, right then and there!! I can't believe the wonderful man I married. That is true love, to be willing to dig through a disgusting garbage can searching for a $10 bill your wife threw away. Anyway, I would not let him do it because I had thrown away some really gross things in there yesterday and, I assured him, I wasn't for positive sure that I had actually thrown it away yet.

Then while I was putting Erin to bed, I asked her to say an extra prayer and please ask that I would find that money. She did.

So today, honestly, I haven't thought much about it except about when I could make it to the bank and withdraw $10. I, in my lack of faith, had again given up on ever finding Zach's birthday money. But lo and behold, I was folding laundry and FOUND IT!!!!!!!!!! It was in Zach's pants' pocket. I don't even know why I stuck my hand in there today because I was not thinking about it at all. But I did, and there it was. I couldn't believe it! Even now I am amazed how this happens every single time!! I know the Lord is watching me thinking, "Ok, Shannon. NOW will you believe me?" What would I do without the innocent, perfect faith of my 8-year-old and the gentle prompting of my loving husband? I am so grateful for prayer, and that my Heavenly Father has so much patience with me. I know the Lord cares about me and cares about the things that are important to me, even if it is only a lost $10 bill.

I am a wreck. I am tired beyond belief and my house is a disaster area. Here is my confession. I am lucky if I get to the dishes and the laundry and dinner. I am supposed to get laundry done on Mondays and Thursdays. It usually gets washed, but rarely folded let alone put away. I don't remember when I last washed everyone's sheets. Everything beyond laundry, dinner, and dishes doesn't even come close to happening. That includes sweeping, mopping, taking a shower or fixing my own hair, vacuuming, cleaning the bathroom, making beds, picking up the downstairs, cleaning the toyroom, cleaning the hamster cage (Erin told me last night she is just getting used to the stink of it, so it's ok. Heaven forgive me), let alone doing things I want to do like playing the piano or reading or watching a show or reading to the kids.

I am exaggerating some. I do pick up some things sometimes, like when I trip over it or when somebody else is coming over and will see that room. I do shower, although sometimes it's late at night when it finally happens. I occasionally sweep/vacuum -- when it's bad enough. I do usually remember to bathe the kids, although that is sometimes even spotty. I also clean bad areas in the bathrooms occasionally, and Scott usually does a pretty good job of them on the weekends. But everything is basically true.

I walk through my house this morning and just want to cry -- out of depression and being overwhelmed with how much I am truly lacking in this job. I would get fired if I had a boss. You may ask, why are you so behind? What do you do all day? I ask myself the same thing. Obviously I spend some time on the computer. However, I would like to think that is therapeutic and part of what keeps me functioning. Um... I nurse a lot. I teach piano lessons three nights a week. I am just mostly tired. I know I could get more done if I had some energy, but it somehow evades me. I have been exercising pretty regularly recently which gives me an energy boost of about one hour.

I think of my future and look at all my children. I have five (so far), very close in age. I know things just get busier the older they get. Also, I would like to teach elementary school someday when my kids are all in school. HOW WILL I POSSIBLY SURVIVE MY FUTURE!?!?!?! I don't think I am surviving now. UGH.

I have decided. There is no other solution really. I am hiring a maid. And a nanny. Anybody interested in working for me? The pay isn't much... non-existent really. But just know that you will be helping someone in great need. I wish I were wealthy and had a housekeeper to do all this. Housekeeping is obviously not one of my strong-points. I'm not sure what my strong-points are, exactly, but I'm sure I once had some... Somewhere in my past I feel like I once had some...

I found this poem online and loved it. I had to post it so that I will always have it for future reference. So sweet, and so true!

Before I was a Mom I made and ate hot meals.

I had unstained clothing.

I had quiet conversations on the phone.

Before I was a Mom I slept as late as I wanted

And never worried about how late I got into bed.

I brushed my hair and my teeth everyday.

Before I was a Mom, I cleaned my house each day.

I never tripped over toys or forgot words to lullabies.

Before I was a Mom, I didn't worry whether or not my plants were poisonous.

I never thought about immunizations.

Before I was a Mom, I had never been pooped on,

Spit up on,

Chewed on,

Peed on,

Or pinched by tiny fingers.

Before I was a Mom, I had complete control of myself;

My thoughts, My body, And my mind.

I slept all night.

Before I was a Mom, I never held down a screaming child so that doctors could do tests or give shots.

I never looked into teary eyes and cried.

I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin.

I never sat up late hours at night watching a baby sleep.

Before I was a Mom, I never held a sleeping baby just because I didn't want to put it down.

I never felt my heart break into a million pieces when I couldn't stop the hurt.

I never knew something so small could affect my life so much.

I never knew that I could love someone so much.

I never knew I would love being a Mom.

Before I was a Mom, I didn't know the feeling of having my heart outside my body.

I didn't know how special it could feel to feed a hungry baby.

I didn't know that bond between a Mother and her child.

I didn't know that something so small could make me feel so important.

Before I was a Mom, I had never gotten up in the middle of the night every ten minutes to make sure all was okay.

I had never known the warmth,

The joy,

The love,

The heartache,

The wonderfulment,

Or the satisfaction of being a Mom.

I didn't know I was capable of feeling so much before I was a Mom.

- Unknown

As you can see from the photos, Erin and Zach have just finished their first science projects. It was exhausting. For me, not for them. I remember science projects being so much fun as a kid! What happened?? Oh yes. I know. I became the mom. And when your kids are only 7 and 8, the kids' science projects become the mom's science projects.

On the bright side, I really enjoyed spending time with the kids to get this done. Some of it was stressful time, granted. But I like spending time with them and I don't think I do it enough. Also, when I looked today at their posters, I noticed they both had THIRD PLACE RIBBONS on them!!! I didn't tell the kids. I wanted them to be surprised when they go look later with their class. But how exciting! They will be thrilled! They really did help me a lot. I have really great kids. :)

Wally has decided there are way too many pronouns in this world. To solve this crisis, he has eliminated he and his from his vocabulary. This morning he was chatting away to me about Richie.

"Yesterday I went and got him some guys and legos, and him was really happy and that made me happy too. I'm going to go get him some more when him is done with him cereal."

During Family Home Evening this week, he said something like, "Him can't do it." We all lightly laughed and smiled. Scott gently corrected him. "He can't do it." "No. Him can't do it." "No. HE." "No. HIM."

Like I said, it doesn't matter what is grammatically correct. There are just too many pronouns, and come hell or high water, he will fix this problem. Excuse me, I meant, him will fix this problem.