too much.

Recently I was reading my journal entries from last summer.

They were not pretty words. 

I wrote about how I never saw my husband. That I was doing all the chores alone. How my children were making me want to drive away and not come home. 

I sat remembering last summer.

It was hard. I very nearly left. I considered packing up my children and going. But where would I go? And what would I do?

So I stayed, and things got better. Mostly. 

But summer is here again, and there are more animals and things to tend to than last summer. Again Josh is not here because he is busy with work, and I find myself, once again, feeling the weight of life on my shoulders.

I know he does, too. I know it’s not his favorite thing to be gone. And I know it must suck to come home because there’s always a fence to build or repair. Always an animal to pen in. Always a crabby wife.  I try to do as much of the work without him as I can. But I find myself getting resentful. Feeling like I shouldn’t have to do the “man” work.

I love my home and our little property, and all of our animals, but it’s getting to be a lot. Possibly too much.

I’m trying to decide if it’s time to scale things back. Maybe a handful of chickens isn’t so bad? Maybe we don’t need these cows and goats? I don’t know. 

I do know I’m tired. I know that I’m busy. Possibly too busy. Too tired.

Those are not good things for a person to be. It’s time to consider changing things up around here.

One thought on “too much.

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