How're y'all today?

This is therapy for me. Feel free to disregard. It's more whining.

1.) Go to change the AC filter, find water dripping. AC man takes precious time to arrive, 3 days later. Finds that AC is broken, water could cause motor to start house fire, no AC use is allowed. Will replace entire AC unit by Friday (which = 3 days of no AC here in west Texas) OR when the rain stops, whichever happens second. Ike is coming to visit by Saturday. We're just getting over the last hurricane. Shall we be without AC until next week? Find out in the next episode.

2.) Man is in training. People who are in training here are not allowed to walk anywhere without being marched by a sergeant. Not even senior enlisted people. They are also not allowed to use their POV (personally owned vehicle) during the duty day, which means that I either have to get self and 4 children up by 4:45am to give Man ride to work or do without, no exceptions. We've gotten two freebies when he brought me the van during lunch (don't do that, Soldier) and between PT and the morning formation (don't do that either, Soldier). Soooooooo, we get to buy a new vehicle because we sold the last one. And this, right after the fridge and the lawn mower and the big move which we had to pay for out of pocket until the Army reimburses us, which we've heard can take over 6 months. By then we'll be moving again.

3.) I was right in the middle of running several over-due errands today with one of my freebie van days when the school called to inform me that Tag was experiencing an asthma attack. After two nebulizer treatments and still retracting, I call the physician on duty to ask advice. I get a call back right when I'm in the middle of helping baby with a flaming red sore bum so Man answers my phone, says "it's ok, he isn't retracting anymore" and hangs up. Then he tells me that the person who called back was not the on call physician but some sort of Army trained PFC. I fume. And tell Man that if we're going to do that sort of thing then we're going to buy a pulse oximeter because Tag IS retracting but Man doesn't want to deal with ER visit. I fume some more. Tag is doing well enough that I havn't pushed the issue but I still want the comfort of some MD advice. Which of course I won't be getting from a PFC. Next time I'm calling friend C or SIL-RN.

4.) Van AC puked the very day we arrived in this city.

5.) Still dealing with packer mess. Have no idea where my first aid kit is. Still have linen closet where linens have been dumped in big pile. Have Man Box filled with Man Things that have no idea with what to do. Have no dishwasher, no garbage disposal, and am on cooking/dish strike for the past day or two. Pizza and pancakes. Kids have no clothes in which to dress. Am behind on laundry.

6.) Man treated like infant by superiors with TX-size chip on shoulder.

7.) Feeling guilt for not having missionaries over for dinner, but have no AC and no dishwasher, and fear resenting feeding another 4 men and doing dishes by self. Not worth it.

There are other issues. There are other things causing stress in my life. Today, as I was laying on the floor, staring at the ceiling and wondering what it would feel like if it fell on me, I realized that my capacity to deal with my life was being far outstripped by the challenges I'm being called to endure.

I could call a chaplain, but then I'd have to figure out how to drive up there (taxi?) to counseling sessions which may or may not be remotely helpful. I could call ArmyOneSource and talk to the faceless voice trained to care about me. I could call any of a dozen friends and just whine and cry. I could also call my bishop, except there's such high turnover in our ward that they don't even have a ward directory.

I've made a friend here, but mostly our boys are friends and she invites me to Mary Kay parties and invites me to window shop at the mall with her friends where she spends all her time making Mary Kay contacts while I try to not look like I'm with the group that's soliciting in a mall. The little girls and I check out the weird shops, weird people, and take pics of things like the astroturf dog at Victoria's Secret (pics forthcoming, when figure out how to get them off of phone).

Am overwhelmed and don't know how to articulate it well. Need some counseling. Will get some tomorrow over the phone because I'll be stuck here in 95° weather, 60% humidity not only just in case the AC man comes to give us new AC but also to wait for a loan check to come so we can buy this truck that Man found. Little loan for little truck, but loan nonetheless. And I'll be praying that Tag's asthma stays in check enough that the school won't send him to the hospital because if they do I freakin' won't have a stinking way to get to the darnation hospital because the babysitter, I mean sergeant won't let my husband drive our tarnation van during the duty day, no exceptions. If she says she won't let him go if Tag goes to the ER, you can bet that the 1st sergeant and commander will be getting an earful from this angry civilian. But then that's picking a fight that hasn't even started yet.

And now I'm rambling because the kids were up all night last night from being hot and having asthma attacks, and I wake up at 5:40 to shower before I have to wake the kids at 6:15 so they can get to school on time.

There's only so much shutting down I can really do before it's unacceptable. How filthy can the house get before I admit I'm in trouble? How bad can the rest of life get before I ask for help?

I keep waiting for that ceiling to hit me in the head. Might take my mind off things.