You'd be amazed at how mu hands hurt nowadays. They hurt when I wake up, when I go to sleep, and sometimes they wake me up in the middle of the night with my wrists throbbing and my my thumbs unmoveable. I'm not quite sure what to do with it.

J is great, now, except for the fact that his face is slightly swollen and a bit of a grumpy attitude. Maybe a little soreness... but I think he'll live.

I want my kids here, my kids with me. I can't even begin to tell you how difficult it is for me to lie in bed and wonder if that man's hurting them, if he's calling them names or hitting them unnecessarily. Even though I know that J doesn't think James Lewis isn't as bad as Genia and Andrew made him out to be, in my heart I know that something is not right - otherwise why would the kids not want to go home, why would the kids want nothing to do with him...

Why would the kids act so differently when he's around?

Something isn't right, and yet I'm powerless to help, even if I could help, or even to know if there is a way to help. A part of me, the mother part, can feel that something's wrong, and yet I don't know what to do about it.

Another part of me doesn't even know if there IS a 'mother' part of me. After all, I've never had kids. I've never had life inside me. I've never felt my child kicking, or felt the pain of labor. And yet, I can feel the kids. I can feel their unhappiness.

Or maybe I just imagine things.

Who knows.

Work leaves me tired. I want my life to be steady, yet work doesn't satisfy me anymore. I am left tired, unfulfilled and searching for my place.

Maybe I'm just searching for something I've made up in my mind. Something that only exists in dreams.