Fertilizer Or Horse Crap? It's All in How You Use It

I nearly had a nervous breakdown at cheerleading practice today. We have this huge Fall Festival next week and we are so not ready. Over half the squad had never cheered before, so we spent the first few weeks, learning the basics: jumps, stunts, and chants. We had our first game last night, and they did awesome. So I thought they were ready for a full on dance party for Fall Festival. Wrong. It was a bloody mess. The dance has been cut to two eight counts and we're doing the stunt from last week. And the girls wouldn't stop complaining. I've lost a little Spartan Spirit this week.

I haven't had a day off in over a month. I've worked many days for about twelve hours. I've freaked out a lot. I've cried a lot. And you guess it, I've eaten a lot of dessert. There are days when I get so mad that this is what has happened. My ex-husband literally calls in fatherhood with a phone call or two once a month. He visits twice a year, but I'm here in the day-to-day, with the fighting, and whining, and messy rooms. I'm here to make sure homework is done, and they eat vegetables, and take baths. And their father sleeps in every day, stays up every night, going out on the town, having a life. He works a couple hours a day, and I'm working before the sun comes up and don't stop until it down. Then I clean the house, do the dishes, and read books to unruly little boys. I try to write, but pass out on my laptop, and wake up in panic, realizing I'm a woman alone with two children in an apartment. I can't go back to sleep because I'm too terrified someone will murder us or a zombie will break in and eat our brains.

I get so many wonderful emails and texts about how amazing everything thinks I am for not letting this destroy me, how I keep going when I fail, how I get up when I fall, how I'm still living despite it all. But really what choice do I have? I can't lay down and give up. The world continues around me. There are children to be raised. Cat boxes to be emptied. Dreams to be fulfilled. And I can't just stop. I'm not brave. I'm surviving. I'm stubborn. I'm sad. I'm still figuring it out.

What are you going to do with the crap life has handed you? Are you going to let it make you stink with hatred and bitterness, or are you going to take that crap and use it as fertilizer to grow a garden? I'm growing flowers, y'all. At least I'm trying.