If I had more energy, I would come up with a title, but, eh, here it is.

Um. Hi. It's been a while, huh?

Sorry, it's just been SO crazy. Joey started the new job, the kids started their new school, Peyton started going to a Mommy's day out program twice a week, Blythe has dance, and karate, and play practice, and SOMEWHERE in there, I lost my mind.

The new job. It's only been a few months, and finances are still... ugh. But, I keep telling myself, it's only been a few months, we're having to get used to a TOTALLY different pay schedule, and Joey has to use a LOT of money being gone... I hate money. Seriously.

In the, what? Two months since he started the new job? He's been home 7 days.

SEVEN.

This is harder than I thought it would be.

He's home now, and he thinks he may get to stay a little longer than a few days.

Jonah broke my heart after the last time his daddy left for work, we were sitting down to eat, and he was saying the blessing, and he says "and thank you for letting my daddy come see me." (Which, of course took me and my mother in law to translate, but once we understood, there were tears.)

He has started speech therapy at school, but I haven't seen much improvement. His speech teacher at the school even admitted that Jonah needed more than 30 minutes twice a week. She thinks an hour 4 times a week would be much better. So, I'm working on getting additional speech therapy, which is a really big head ache. Thankfully, a place has opened in town, so I won't have to drive an hour, and our new insurance will cover some of it, if I will jump through some burning hoops, sign some paper work in blood, and be willing to give up my first born child, you know, the usual insurance procedures.

I'm completely overwhelmed. Every. Day.

Like I told Joey the other night, I feel like I'm consistently waiting, but never getting anywhere.

Waiting for him to come home.

When he gets home, I'm then waiting on the call for him to leave again (not that I want him to, this is just part of the gig.)

Waiting for Jonah to start talking.

Waiting on Blythe to realize that she is SIX not SIXTEEN.

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

But really, on what?