Archive for April, 2007

Feeling okay today. Numb but not angry and hateful like yesterday. I just have to say that I do know how lucky I am to have so many people in my life who care about me and actually *show* it. In so many ways my friends have been there for me – especially after Bella’s birth. This grumpiness isn’t about them, it is about me and my inability to feel better for their efforts. It scares me, really. Usually a little social contact is all I need to lift my spirits.

Yesterday wasn’t all doom and gloom, though. I cooked dinner with Max for the first time last night and it was a lot of fun. He sat on our counter top and “learned” how to make black beans and deep fried tofu. I felt like Rachael Ray with a willing captive audience. I talked about every little detail of what I was doing and Max watched with excitement. He knew that all my talking would intermittingly lead to him throwing the chopped onions and garlic in the pan and dumping the can of black beans in with them. My camera was downstairs at the time but I think for future meals I’m going to record our cooking sessions.

I updated my blogroll on the sidebar and still have a few more sites to add. You should definitely check out the new additions because these mamas have amazing blogs. Many of them are super creative, honest, or both. These are the blogs I like to check in on. Some of these blogs – some of the time – depress me because I’m like, “I wish I could do that!” Though, most of the time they inspire me to find and do *something* creative with my children.

I think I’ve found “A Something!” COOKING!!! It’s perfect! I love to cook – and eat – and it doesn’t cause me any physical pain. And best of all, my children can do it with me – unlike this writing thing I love to do which requires solitude (a difficult feat at best  with a toddler running amuck). Like right now, Max is having a meltdown because I won’t let him sit on my lap as I type.

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I’m getting agitated with all the well meaning advice to my depression problem – and it has only been two days since I started talking about it. I’ve never been so annoyed by people who are just trying to “care” for me. I feel like such a bitch. I know my friends want to help but really, the only help they can give me is empathy or sympathy. If one more person tells me to go for a walk I’m going to shoot THEM in the head. Exercise may help… if I was able to do it. It may help to get out of the house… if I was able to do it. Should I feel even more depressed because I can’t??? Physical activity and RA do NOT mix well. Its hard for people to “get” that I am in pain all the time and moving is a risky venture.

I love that my friends and Hal are concerned because it means that they love me. However, I kinda think people take it personally when they can’t get a depressed person to “feel better.” Or rather, they take it too personally when they do. And so what – I’m depressed, possible PPD, it happens. I know it is only temporary. Gawd, I can’t wait until my first session with the therapist. In the mean time, thanx for listening to me gripe.

And now one of my mama friends who doesn’t know me very well (and visa-versa) – someone who I haven’t known for very long – is calling me all the time to “check on me.” She is well meaning and I’m being too harsh and judgmental, I know. What can I say, I’m also very cranky. She told me that she too is having difficulty with depression and is at the point where she feels like she needs to do something about it. Her efforts to help me are backfiring because its only making me feel bad. She is so giving and caring towards me but I keep the gigantic wall up and don’t return the concern for her wellbeing. I am such a jerk. I just really need her to stop calling all the time without taking it personally. A phone call every few days is enough, really. Again… I know… sounding like a total bitch.

I actually feel a bit better today than I did yesterday… believe it or not. I think just “announcing” that I’m not feeling good is helpful. I have made contact with a psychotherapist who was recommending to me by a friend who’s partner is also a psychotherapist – so their recommendation seems hopeful.

This experience is making me think about how I deal with other people I love being depressed.

This is my first brush with depression where I actually know that what I’m going through is called *depression.* Doesn’t make it hurt any less but it makes it seem more manageable – like giving it a name means there is a way to get through it. It also helps me to not lash out at people – even though I’ll still lash in the form of journal writing. Anyway, rambling now… thanks if you are still reading.

PS – low and behold, not even 30 mins after typing this, my overly concerned friend called again. I answered the phone this time and found out she was calling to tell me how helpful she finds walking. You know, she says, you can just throw Max in the stroller and Bella in the sling and go for a 45min to an hour walk every day! When she stopped talking long enough for me to get a word in I reminded her of my RA and she said, “Oh God, just kick me in the butt for being so insensitive. I am so sorry.” She made me laugh and I offered to punch her in the face or shoot her in the head, instead. I think she was a little unsure of my tone. We hung up on good terms, though – no harm done – I hope.

Man, I can be such a shit when I’m down.

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I’m starting to feel something that is familiar and unwanted. It is located in between my heart and my throat. That place where stuff wants to come out but it is too abstract to make its way through the mouth. I used to feel this way and blame everyone and everything around me for it. I use to blame Hal. Now, I just feel it and want to run away. The problem is, I don’t know what it is I would be running from – other than this feeling. I think it is Depression but I’m afraid to see it as a problem. If it’s a problem that means I need to fix it and can’t just ignore it. I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t want to fix it if the only way to do so is to take synthetic moods. I don’t want to talk about it with anyone because that would mean I’d have to actually pick up the phone. Then, I’d have to listen to advice that I’d agree with but won’t be able to follow. I don’t want to talk about it with Hal – even though I know I’ll tell him what is going on with me. I don’t want to be disappointed in him because he can’t help me. He won’t have the right words or the right questions and I don’t want to find a reason to blame him for not being able to help. I haven’t started taking it out on my kids but I’m afraid if I don’t cry soon, that is exactly what will happen. I don’t want to cry because it gives me a headache and that makes my day 10x’s harder. Wait, I have started “taking it out” on my kids – I feel numb around them. I do the bare minimum to care for them. I think this has been going on for a while but I’m just noticing it today. I tell myself that I am okay. That if I can just make it through this next year my RA medication will come to the rescue and life will be “normal” again. How am I going to make it through this year feeling this way??? I think I may need to see a therapist.

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Oh Boy.

Hal loves mineral water. He bought a bottle for our little road trip on Saturday. We were in for an hour drive to visit with some friends that we haven’t seen in a long time. Hal was apparently very excited about his cold beverage. After taking his first gulp he exclaimed, “this is fucking good!” Hal has always been overly-dramatic when it comes to his bubbly water. Max, being the curios boy that he is, also wanted a drink. Hal passes the bottle back to Bossman who is eagerly awaiting his first taste. I can hear him taking a big gulp. Then HE exclaims… I’m sure you know where I’m going with this… “This is FUCKing good!”

Me: Did he just say what I think he said???

Hal: Yeah.

Us: Haaahaahaaahahaaahaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Max: Heeeeheeeeheeeeeheeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me: I have never heard him pronounce the “F” sound so clearly.

Every drink thereafter, Max said the same thing. Eventually we stopped laughing and explained to him that he can only say that around mommy and daddy. I’m certain, however, that the first time his grandma gives him a drink of her soda water he will let her know just how fucking good he thinks it is.

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I am so depressed. These past two nights I haven’t gotten very much sleep because Bella’s sleep patterns are changing. She’ll still go for five hours but then she is waking up every hour. I wonder if she is teething.

Max is refusing to take a nap today. I laid down with him for an hour and he just wouldn’t fall asleep. Some people may think it is some kind of luxury to take a nap during the day but for me it is a necessity. Not only do I get less than five hours of sleep every night, but RA has a nasty side affect of fatigue.

Max had me get up from our “nap” and make him pasta for lunch – a lunch I tried to get him to eat before we laid down. As I was making it, he woke Bella up. I brought him downstairs to eat so she could fall back to sleep and now he is saying, “all done,” after two bites. I want to cry. It’s stuck in my throat wanting to come out but it just sits there. I’m so angry and tired. It is taking all of who I am to not lash out at Max or break this computer right now. All I want to do is sleep. I think I’ll go upstairs and make some coffee. I’m certain Max will fall asleep right as Bella wakes up.

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I often wonder what it is I do all day that makes time go by so quickly. They say time flies when you’re having fun but I don’t think that is what’s going on here!

7:30am: Max and I get out of bed. Bella is still sleeping.
7:30am – 8am: I drink my coffee, Bella wakes up, Hal changes Bella’s nappy and puts big boy underwear on Max.
8am – 8:30am: I shower! For the first time in two days! Get dressed and nurse Bella. Max is playing with his dinosaurs in the middle of the living room. Hal leaves for work at 8:30am.
8:30am – 9am: Put Bella in swing and drink 2nd cup of coffee while talking on the phone to Livia.
9am – 9:30am: Still on phone with Livia. Bella is still sleeping. In between allowing Max to talk on the phone and helping him poop/pee on the potty, Max tries to get me off the phone by pee’ing in his big boy undies. Didn’t work. I have him take his underwear off, get me a pair of his shorts, and put the clean shorts on him. He later poops on the potty (while I’m still on the phone!). Then, I sit on the floor with him and play with his dino’s while I’m on the phone. I also fold all of Bella’s clothes because we needed to rewash them – we think she was allergic to our normal laundry soap because she has a wicked skin rash.
9:30-10am: Get off phone with Livia and Max begs to watch King Kong movie. We go downstairs first so I can check my e-mail and Max plays downstairs. Then we go back upstairs and I make him some toast, me a faux chicken salad sandwich, and we watch King Kong – which I start at the scene where the ape snatches the woman from her constraints.
10am-10:30am: I make four phone calls, one to set up an appointment for my car, one to set up a pediatrician appointment for Bella (their phone is busy I still need to call), one to our carpenter who is really dragging his feet on finishing the work we have already paid him for (he’s a friend’s father so I do trust that he will eventually get it done – I know their whole family. I don‘t get a hold of him so leave a message) and one to make arrangements to get together with friends this weekend (left a message on their voice mail). After the phone calls Bella is ready to be nursed again.
10:30am- 11am: Change Bella, help Max use the potty. Sit on the floor with Max and Bella to give her some “tummy time.” SHE ROLLS OVER FOR THE FIRST TIME!!!!!
11am – 11:30am: Nurse Bella, put her back in swing (BTW… I only put her into the swing either when she has already fallen asleep in my arms or is about to fall asleep). Watch King Kong with Max. Put french fries for lunch into oven. Play with Max while laying down in our bed – he jumps all over me like I’m a jungle gym and I try to keep from getting hurt.
11:30am – 12pm: Make our veggie corn dogs and chocolate smoothies (soy milk, frozen banana, soy protein powder, peanut butter) and eat with french fries for lunch. Eat lunch together.
12pm – 12:30pm:
Still eating lunch – Max eats very slow.
12:30pm – 1pm: Work on recording this entry. Max is playing on our porch.
1pm -1:30pm: Work on recording this entry, let dogs outside.
1:30pm – 3:30pm: We all take a nap.
3:30pm – 4pm: I wake up to Bella fussing. Change her nappy. Take Max to the bathroom when I notice that I forgot to put a nappy on him and he didn’t have an accident! Nurse Bella.
4pm – 4:30: Nurse Bella while watching Jurassic Park part 2 (per Max’s request). Max goes into our bedroom and pees on my pillow. I get him to put the pillow in the laundry basket – it was nice of him to at least tell me.
4:30 – 5pm: Nurse Bella until she falls back to sleep then I put her in the swing. Fold and put away two more loads of laundry. Check e-mail.
5pm – 5:30pm: Still working on laundry. When I finish I call Grandma, sit on the floor and play with Max’s dinosaurs.
5:30pm – 6pm: Bella wakes up. Max continues playing but by himself, now. I play with Bella and get her to laugh HYSTERICALLY for the first time! Hal calls to let me know he’s on his way home and to find out what we need from the grocery store.
6pm – 7pm: Change Bella’s poopy nappy. Help Max use the potty. Hang up last bit of laundry. Sit on couch and veg-out.

7pm: Hal is home and I’m downstairs finishing up this entry. I am EXHAUSTED.

You may have noticed that I didn’t cook dinner tonight. My right hand is actually hurting badly as I type this so Hal is making dinner. I have given myself permission to not do everything everyday. The house is a disaster but I don’t care. There are dirty dishes in our sink and on the kitchen counter but, again, I don’t care.

I spent lots of time with the kids, saw Bella roll over and laugh, witnessed Max’s first nap without a nappy and got the laundry done. I also made important appointments, had important conversation with a close friend all the while having to pay attention to BOTH my kids, help Max use the potty, change diapers, let the dogs out, write, and listen to Max’s repetitive chanting of, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy. I can hear him upstairs, now, saying the same thing between his chanting of, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy.

So this is actually an average day. Switch up the household duties that I get done, mix in an epiphany or two, add the occasional play date and there you have it.

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Okay, after checking in with my momma friends about this annoyance thing with Max – I have come to understand that these feelings are normal and that there is nothing wrong with me. He is 2 ½, we have another new baby, I’m nursing them both, my hormones are doing their thing and the boy is potty learning. This is a recipe for certain annoyance. I get that. I’ve been told it gets easier as they get older by MANY of wise mamas and I’m choosing to believe this to be truth.

I have had to learn to chill the f**k out when it comes to Max learning how to poop on the toilet. He’s got the pee’ing down but the poop is A LOT more challenging to control – apparently. I had no idea until I checked in with some of my online mama friends. I got so fed up today with him pooping in his underwear because I *thought* he should know how to go on the potty. After all, he has done it before. I did the one thing I KNOW I should NOT do – I punished him. I took away his “big” dinosaurs and told him he had to poop on the potty if he wanted them back. He cried and screamed, “I want my big dinosaurs NOW!” I just kept saying, “Nope. You can have them back when you poop on the potty.” His response to that was, “NOOOO! Gimme my big dinosaurs back, NOOOW!” Blah. I felt horrible.

After consulting with my wiser (been there done that) mama friends and finding out that it does take toddlers longer to learn how to control their bowel movements, I gave him his dinos back and apologized for being mean to him. I said to him, “You’ll learn how to poop on the potty eventually – it takes time. Do you forgive me?” He smiled and nodded, yes. I have no idea if he knows what the word “forgive” means but it all ended well. He was happy to get his dinosaurs back and I was happy to know that I wasn’t alone in totally freaking out on him in the first place.

I’ve been told that it typically takes boys longer. Yep, time to chill and let the Buddha Boy teach me patience… again.

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Another neat site… True Mom Confessions. I’m hooked on this one and PostSecret. I wish more people were as honest in person as they are when they spill the beans anonymously. I think so much that is “taboo” would be normalized and people would be happier for it.

My confession for the day: My son annoys me. Yep, he’s annoying. I love him to pieces BUT, he – almost on a daily basis – gets on my last nerve. It makes me feel like something is wrong with me. I fear that it is not just about his age and where he is at developmentally but that I will always be annoyed by him until he is “a mature adult.” Why can’t I be more empathetic and compassionate towards him, naturally??? Why is this so hard for me???

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Whenever I manage to cook a fabuloso meal or bake delicious pastries I feel like a domestic goddess. On the contrary, when I’m not able to keep the house at a moderate level of “clean,” I feel like I’ve somehow failed. It’s a self imposed pressure. I take a certain amount of pride in having a clean counter top and piss-free toilet rim. The toilet area is a priority because toddlers have no respect for the dirtiness that is potty germs. In fact, it seems like they look for opportunities to frolic in their own shit. Max is potty learning and I’m grossed out on a daily basis by his bathroom shenanigans.

My idea of “clean” is to have the kitchen free of dirty dishes, the counter tops wiped down, the sink and toilet area in the bathroom clean, clean clothes, the dirty clothes in the laundry baskets properly separated, and no food or random pieces of clothing laying around on the floor. I can manage all this with ease. However, the living room floor is typically sprayed with Max’s toys and the kitchen table loaded with clean laundry waiting to reach its final destination. If you were to enter my home you might say it was a disaster area. However, to the eyes of a SAHP (stay at home parent) and my husband, I’m doing pretty well.

I have finally caught a groove in managing the kids and the house. Certainly, once Bella starts teething, crawling, walking… um, growing… the groove will go away and mayhem will once again assume its position. However, for the time being I’m enjoying the domestic bliss.

This pride in my work is a feeling I only caught glimpses of while managing the bookstore. I love books but I loath retail. I hate serving people who don’t appreciate it – which is why mothering often comes with the price of dissatisfaction. It’s hard enough that children can’t really show appreciation but when your culture has a big fat lack of appreciation for mothering to boot… well, you get the point. I also hate doing work that doesn’t come with a feeling of productivity – ergo, hate working for da’ man, love mothering. I can just look at my kids and know I’m productive.

My life, by the standards of many women and at times to myself, is boring and painfully mundane. The irony of my lack of freedom and dullness is that it is surprisingly more satisfying to find appreciation in the simpler acts in life than it was to be paid for doing work I never cared to be mindful at.

Now, having said ALL THAT… I also can’t wait until I’m able to get back to a PAYING job. I have big plans to remodel our house and we can’t get a home equity loan until we are a two income household. Having birthed both of my children in our bedroom, I’m very attached to this place and would like to stay here. Short of moving to a cool metro-city – I have no desire to leave our current home.

On a completely unrelated note… I used to feel really eager to hear Max say that magical, life affirming word… mommy. Now, I can’t stand the sound of it.

Max pooped on the porch earlier today. I used his underwear to pick it up and throw it over the side. However, there is still some poop residue calling out my son’s name. He has been BUGGING me for the last 20 mins about it. He’s dieing to touch it but I’ve threatened (promised) to take away ALL of his dinosaurs if he does. I can’t wait until he “gets it.” Poop is beyond gross yet I deal in it everyday.

One of the worst things that can happen is right when Max finally lays down for sleep, Bella wakes. This is my fate today.





I am such a dork for posting these pictures.


I baked these today:

Thank you to the HipMama who shared the recipe site.



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