The Toughest Job...

No, I haven't written in awhile. No, I'm not going to apologize. Yes, I've been overwhelmed in my new space. Will I write more on that later? Maybe.

I need to process a moment. And if anyone who reads this can offer any words of comfort or wisdom, I'd greatly appreciate it. In the meantime, I'm going to just write.

There used to be an ad about the army - something like "The toughest job you'll ever love." I think they were wrong. Raising children is the toughest job you'll ever love. Although right now, I'm not sure I love it.

Why? It's simple. My children. Are killing me. Emotionally, right now, more than anything. How much of it is because they are teen/tweenagers? How much is because of the move? How much is because of the estrogen running amuck in our house? How much is because I am not strict enough? Too strict? How much of it is because I'm in a relationship and they feel threatened by it? What, if anything, am I missing?

I wonder if I just need to accept that we aren't going to see eye to eye on anything for the next 10 years or so.

I know I've given few details about the ins and outs, but I'm tired, need sleep, and am in many ways treating this as a prayer. I need the peace that passeth all understanding on this one, because clearly I'm not going to understand, and I'm going to be wrong - at least in their eyes - for awhile.