Middle Boy still has residual anger.  This time it is because although he wanted me to tell his small group leader who was so concerned about his post what was going on...he didn't really.

He was mad.  He said, "Maybe I need to provide you with the exact detail of what I want you to do.  Then maybe you will do what I ask."

That's when I lost it.  I just started crying.  It was raining.  We were in the car and I had to stop, because I couldn't see through my tears.

I am trying.  I am doing what I hope is the right thing...every single time.  I am doing the best I can.  It is just never right and never good enough. 

I told him I spent the entire day thinking he wanted to kill himself and how it nearly crushed me...crushed me, because I didn't understand and he wouldn't talk to me.  Was building walls that were higher and higher.

He is pushing me away...clearly pushing me away.

When we got home I was exhausted.  This day was awful. 

I got in bed.  The boys came in.  Middle Boy needed to reconnect.  He felt guilty for the way he treated me today.  He wanted to hold my hand and just be beside me.  Younger Boy wanted to be by my side as well.

So there we sat...on my bed...surrounded by the boxes of moving and the big feelings of the day.  All of the anger and the tears.  All of the fear and the heartache and we just were.