The Worst Part

The worst part (for me) about being depressed is how it spreads into other areas of my life. Like weeds that you can't evict from your garden. They don't just stay where they are and choke out the positive and beautiful plants in one little area, they spread. They ruin the aesthetic everywhere.

I was pretty much not taking Zoloft while I was taking doxycycline.

The list of things you can't take when you're taking a Cipro drug is so long it's completely overwhelming. I was scared to take anything that would interact so I decided to taking nothing but the doxy. After basically 3 weeks without Zoloft I was feeling okay, a little low on the motivation-o-meter but otherwise a-okay. Now, nearly two weeks after finishing doxy my motivation level is so low it's hard to leave the couch. I can put on a good show for peeps and I'm not so far gone I don't love doing things with the family, obviously, but over all my inner monologue is pretty dark.

I have a hard time psyching myself up for even the most basic of tasks (like eating a real meal). I'm frustrated that I seem to need Zoloft, or at least that I'm not my normal self while not on a mood stabilizer. I'm frustrated that my dining room table is a wreck. I'm not sure if I'm depressed, or just lethargic (at least I'm not anxious). I don't really know what's going on, but it's like a weed, it's creeping in to everything.

My judgment is impaired. I'm not acting normally to even the simplest things. Example: I want to see the Harry Potter movie so bad I can taste it. I'm depressed that I haven't seen it yet. (Pathetic? Die-hard-fan?) It's just a movie.... I have the ability to get a sitter and go see the movie but I'm scared to call her. Why? Rejection? I'm paying her, not asking her out... I keep hearing friends good news, like really good news, and although I'm not so dark to be purely jealous, I'm happy first and jealous second. Why? Can't I just celebrate someone else's good news. (If you're reading this wondering if I've been dark and twisted about your good news, yes. Whether I know you IRL or just through the blogsphere, yes.)

I also keep hearing bad news. Cancer stuff (the running count is 3 wonderful people with a shitty shitty disease) and bad luck generally crappy things happening to good people. I don't deal well with bad news. I don't deal well at all with bad news. I basically shut down and pretend bad news isn't happening. So I obsess negatively about good news and ignore (or more like internally fester) bad news. I might not spend much time actively worrying about or being depressed over the sad things happening to good people but I'm not so naive to think its not sticking around. Bothering me. Weeds.

I mean it doesn't make sense, I feel totally emotionally all over the map, and yet things are not so bad I'm thinking about trying to stay off the Zoloft. I want to "make it on my own" as it were. But I'd like to function like a normal person again. I'd like to clean my dining room table and weed my metaphorical (and literal) garden. But its hard. It's especially hard because I have no trust in doctors (shrinks included).

Lost in the woods.
What to do? Oh, what to do....

Don't bother asking me how I'm feeling, it's written all over my dining room table

I don't know if you're like this, but I can gauge my mood by looking at the condition of my dining room table. If there is a bunch of crap piled on the table chances are good I'm cranky, depressed, anxious, or deathly ill.

There are mornings that I come down the stairs and look at the dining room table and realize I can't see the surface of the table at all (which makes me feel like I should be on Hoarders) and think to myself "Oh no, that won't do at all..." and immediately spend my pre-breakfast pre-coffee morning cleaning, and sometimes whistling a happy tune.

There are other mornings when I come downstairs, take one look at that table and think "Oh Phuket, Thailand." And proceed to ignore, if not add to, the mess all day long. I find myself throughout the day glancing over at the table and thinking how several of those items are clearly my husband's problem... or how they're all my problem but I can't bring myself to do a darn thing about it.

Really, my husband and kids shouldn't ask me how I'm feeling, even my mother could just ask me how's the dining room table. 'Cause even if the crap piled on the table is organized into neat little piles those piles are just one step away from absolute chaos.

Bad mood.
Good mood.

The table is my insect reflection... or something like that. It's practically a physical manifestation of my aura. But here's the coolest part- if it looks like crap, and I feel like crap (for one reason or another) and I'm somehow able to choke down enough caffeine (or Zoloft) so I can muster the motivation to clean the thing. It makes me feel better! Like cleaning the table somehow cleanses my aura.

Life with tiny humans is like controlled (or uncontrolled) chaos and that's generally hard for me because I prefer to control everything. When I regain control of my dining room table I'm able to let go in other ways, and that helps me be a better momma.

My little revelation isn't exactly breaking news. I've heard before that having a clean home is good for mental (and emotional health). And housework isn't fun. Not even a little bit. But it's satisfying when you've completed it.

I suppose the real question is: "Do I feel better because my dining room table is somehow connected to my emotional state? or Do I feel better because housework sucks and it feels good when it's done?"

How about you? Do you have a spot in your house that is your litmus test for crazy? (Or that drives you crazy?)

Okay, just one more post about Lyme

I'm so pissed right now. Lyme and I are hardcore frenemies. I get it, I got myself bitten by a tick, I suppose I have to pay the consequences for the dirty little insect.

Yesterday afternoon the PA who I met with who was smart and awesome called me to give me the results of my blood test:
" Hi this is so-and-so from the doctors office I'm calling to tell you your lime disease test is very positive."
So faster than your can say drug runner I was on a shiny and new antibiotic called doxycycline (which is part of the Cipro family.) It's used to treat acne, so I guess that's a score, but it's this drugs only redeeming quality... that and treating the Lyme but when I tell you about the side effects you'll see things my way too.

I cannot go in the sun for the next 21 days because of extreme photo sensitivity. I have two boys and it's summer time, why not just take us to Disney world and force us to stand longingly at the gate day after day. I'm not allowed to have anything with calcium within 2 hours of taking the drug. So you know that cup of coffee in the morning, it's going to be black or else I will get none at all. Wtf@!gbrt&? Take the kids for ice cream after dinner? No can-doosville, baby. Yogurt for breakfast, orange juice with calcium? Wrong again. I can't have any vinegar, like, at all. There goes my 2 bottle a day vinegar habit. More like I can't have any yummy and probiotic kombucha, none at all for 21 days. Bummer. And the nail in the cofin? No booze, not even a little bit, none at all. So first we're going to take away my reasons for living and then we're going to take away a time-honored means of coping in desperate situations? That's just effed up.

This is clearly several problems all rolled into one big suck-fest. But all problems are solvable if you break them down. So far we've come up with non-dairy creamer. Any additional suggestions to maintain some normalcy during this PITA time will be mucho appreciated!

Medicinal marijuana? Not appropriate? Ah well, it was worth a shot. Then at least I can party on the 4th with everyone else....

Doctors Suck, ask me how

So today at 3:45 I went to see a doctor. Not my doctor but a doctor from my group. Here are the things he did that made him a crappy doctor:

1. I waited till 5pm to be seen by him. Clearly he skipped time management day in med. school

2. When he came in to the exam room he didn't acknowledge that I had been waiting at all. Leading me to believe that he actually thinks his time is more important than mine.

3. He was very upset by the fact that I wasn't 100% certain whether I had been taking 300mg or 500mg of Tylenol to treat my fever. Um, wow, OCD, who cares, the point is Tylenol is not completely cutting the fever. Focus.

4. He told me under no uncertain terms that I absolutely have both a bug bite and a virus and than neither have anything to do with another. He felt that it was unnecessary to explain how he came to this conclusion other than to say it appears that my body is reacting normally to the bite. On what planet is a red and purple area which is now the size (diameter) of a tennis ball and raised about 3/4 of an inch and a swelling and red lymph gland also the size of a tennis ball normal? This is the opposite of normal, it's kinda scary.

5. He sent me for a blood draw and didn't include a test for Lyme disease. Not that I think I have it, but it doesn't hurt to be thorough.

To provide a foil to the doctor's douche baggery, when I went for the blood draw they told me upfront there would be a wait. Then when I went back the tech said to me first thing: I'm so sorry you had to wait. We're short-staffed today. She makes a mere percentage of what this doctor makes and works in a repetitive and gross bodily fluid testing office but she was able to be a nice person.

I'm picky about how I'm treated by doctors. I know this. But I refuse to believe that the mere presence of MD after a person's name somehow makes them entitled to treat people with les respect than the barista a Starbucks is expected to treat their customers. Not all doctors suck, but I'll say this, I've never met a midwife I didn't like!

I have a follow up tomorrow with a different doctor. And now I'm going to do some restoratives that will encourage the blood and toxins to move out of my leg and hopefully to my kidneys where they will get flushed out. Let's hope yoga really can fix everything!

Television and Children

My children will probably be fat kids with ADHD who are depressed and who are on the autism spectrum and they might be sociopaths*, but the good news is later they'll get Alzheimer's and forget I did this to them.

*Maybe they won't be sociopaths... I might have made that one up.

So, here's the thing- according to many sources too much TV is bad. So bad that TV might actually rot a child's brain (thanks for that one, Mom.) But Obesity and Depression and Autism and Alzheimer's are really truly tragic diseases and frankly scaring parents into thinking that plopping the kiddo in front of some Sprout or PBS is going to single-handedly create one of these serious disorders is insulting to people who actually suffer from them.

Now I'll admit Jack does act like a velociraptor in heat if you turn off his show before he's ready... or you won't turn on his show when he's ready. This is frustrating to me, but you know what's more frustrating?! Coming downstairs after putting Henry down for a nap to find that my bored and unsupervised 3 year old has made a fort on top of the dining room table out of the bone china (I don't actually have bone china... but it could happen.) Sometimes TV is necessary. At least it is in my world.

Right after Henry was born Jack probably watched 6 hours of TV a day. I'm not proud of it, but it's the truth. I felt so guilty. I cried, more than once, thinking about how I was farming out the parenting because it was easier for me. I worried constantly about what kind of damage I was doing to him mentally, emotionally and physically. I was taking the easy way out, it was springtime and I was forcing my active 2 year old to spend hours indoors while I got my mom-of-two sea legs. I went to the pediatrician because Henry was having a bad reaction to the mini-pill which I was taking (which my Midwife actually discovered) and the PA said to me while I sobbed about feeling guilty about utilizing the TV "Well, that's what happens when you have them close together." Unhelpful b*tch. (They are more than 2 years apart, BTW... not that it matters.)

So I've come to a conclusion as a complete non-expert on the topic, parenting is hard. Parenting comes with guilt about LOTS of things. Does 'the man' really need to lay it on so thick about Television? I'm not Amish. We have a TV. I like to watch it, usually after the kids are in bed. It was a major crutch when Henry was a brand new babe, and it's a useful tool now that my guys are older. It's not on all the time, we certainly get out and see the world. But I am absolutely done feeling guilty about letting the kids watch TV for a couple hours here and there.

I don't often get on a real soap box here, but this is me sticking to my guns (which I learned about because of watching TV and now have violent tendencies as a result.)

I am not a bad mom for using the TV as a part of our schedule. I'm not going to feel guilty and you shouldn't either!** My name is Emily, and I let my children watch TV, and I'm still a good mom.

**Unless your kids are actually plugged in, Matrix style, and then I will be the first to tell you how messed up that is.

The "F" word

Furlough.

The Husband works for the government. So when congress can't agree on a budget and doesn't pass a continuing resolution he doesn't go to work and we don't get paid. Now a little unpaid vacation is all well and good if you plan for it, but if you don't... well that just plain sucks.

Henry's First Birthday Party is this weekend and to be frank, I'm worried about spending too much money on food. There aren't many areas we can trim the budget. I already cut every one's hair myself, we don't eat out, I'm not willing to give up fresh organic foods, we use the library, we aren't doing any paid camps or classes right now (luckily), so I have to completely eliminate my online shopping habit which is fine. But we had plans, and now they're all on hold because our polarized government is fighting over money. Not cool. So I'm kinda busy panicking right now.

Just to be clear, it's not like we're about to starve and things are really not that disastrous. In the interest of full disclosure we haven't really directly felt the impact of the crappy economy (except for a pathetic attempt at selling our house.) So now that the economy, and a bickering congress are knocking on my door it's really scary!

We're going through a phase

Jack his hilarious and energetic and creative and loving. But right now he's killing my soul. And I mean that in the nicest way.

He's a great listener when I ask him to sit in his seat for a meal, put trash in the trash (or recycling in the recycling), he holds hands in parking lots, washes his own face and hands after meals and helps me cook by pouring and measuring. This is what makes it so frustrating. He's totally capable of following instruction and often does not need to be asked more than once or reminded.

But I feel like I'm constantly trying to pull him and Henry apart. I know Henry's mobile now and his development is really taking off and that must be really threatening for Jack because his toys are no longer 'safe' but I can't take it anymore!

A month ago Jack hardly heard the words "time out". Now I'm sneering them at him 20 times a day because for the millionth time in a row as soon as I say "Jack, please do not push/hit your brother" he does just that.

I'm not sure what to do. Part of me doesn't want to make excuses for him and let him bully his brother because I'm afraid of what it could mean down the line. But part of me wonders if I should be putting him in time out over and over and over because it's clearly not having the desired effect. Maybe he'd respond better to "Henry, are you okay? Did Jack push you? He did. That was not nice." Instead of "I just told you not to push your brother, GO. SIT. IN. TIME OUT."

Most of what I've read online talks about praising them when they're playing together well, and I do quite a lot of that. Please tell me it's going to get better. I don't expect them not to fight, I just would like to be done with the disciplinging Jack at least once an hour every waking hour of the day.

I'm open to any suggestions or pep-talks about how it will get better!

If I'm being completely honest

Things are not going so hot right now.

I'm really overwhelmed by the state of my life, I feel like there's too much to do and not enough time to do it in. Jack's birthday party is this weekend and I feel totally unprepared for it. My goodie bag count has been wrong twice now and I'm going to have to go to the store again. I don't know what I'm doing for his cake. My house is a complete wreck, there's stuff EVERYWHERE in all the wrong rooms in all the wrong places and I don't have time to clean it with the kids running around messing it up all the time.

Henry hasn't had a good nap in 7 days. He'll sleep for 20 minutes to 1 hour and THAT'S IT. FOR THE WHOLE DAY. The rest of the day he's so cranky (probably because he's sleep deprived that I have to hold him. He weighs 24 pounds! I don't want to hold him all day. You'd think he'd be so damn exhausted from not sleeping that he'd sleep through the night, but no. He'll gladly be awake from 3-4am (like last night).

I'm so stressed out I didn't go to yoga yesterday because I didn't want my bad energy to mess up everyone else there. I need a vacation from my life, but when I look on the calendar it appears that I can't hope for one anytime soon.

Oh, yeah, and yesterday? Henry bit my boob so hard there's a one inch long cut (with blood and everything) from him. Awesome.

I will now attempt to put Henry down for a nap (again). Wish us luck!

The Vultures

Trying to sell our house from July-December was like pushing against a brick wall. Totally pointless. Don't get me wrong, we love our house- we were just ready for something new. Well, 6 promises of a contract, 2 actual contracts, 2 fallen-through negotiations, and about 35 showings (all of which I have to pack up the kids and leave the house because I SAH, I don't work) we have thrown in the towel.

I'm sick and tired of cleaning and hoping and waiting and cleaning and leaving and driving around for an hour and then hoping and waiting again. Trying to sell my house nearly killed me, and our agent did her best. She was parading our house around like a pimp and his hooker.

So here I am, metaphorically bruised, broken, bleeding. Dying on the side of the highway of life.

Well, at least it's over. At least we can just enjoy our home. Do some fun little projects (which we are). Wait... what's that... circling overhead? Freeking vultures.

Awesome.

The same day our house was de-listed from the market the calls started coming in. "Hello I'm So-and-so from Soul-sucking Realty Group. I noticed your home has been de-listed from the market. I was wondering when you're interested in trying to sell again if you want an agent who can get the job done for you."

Um, wow.

The whole truth

I haven't been honest.

I've been living this way for so long I don't remember when it began. The hardest part about realizing I should get help was because it's not that bad. When I compare my mental health to people I would describe as having "real problems" things seem fine. I'm not depressed; joyless; or detached from my boys. I don't have panic attacks that leave me in the fetal position on the floor. I'm not even necessarily unhappy, for lack of a better way to describe it... I'm just really pissed off.

I'm pissed off at myself more than anything. Why? I could be a better mother than I am. Every morning I wake up and tell myself that I will not raise my voice, I will encourage not threaten, I will not loose my cool. But every day I yell, threaten and loose my cool. I avoid calling and seeing my friends often because I'm afraid of how they will judge me, because I feel like a terrible failure of a mother. Also I find that I have to bite my tongue from yelling at friends, strangers on the street, dust mites.

Who parents in anger? Me. Apparently.

A month ago I decided enough is enough. I started meeting with an LCSW (Licensed Clinical Social Worker) to talk about ... everything. We decided that my symptoms, though not nearly as serious as people with 'real' problems, were pervasive enough that medication would help. I mean, with stories about mothers who feel no attachment to their kids, harm themselves and/or their kids or who have persistent negative thoughts- my problems seemed silly.

I dragged my feet. Even me, with my enlightened view of mental health, hesitated to actually take medication (again) to solve a problem. Couldn't I just decide to change? Couldn't I just chill the heck out? Well then I read this blog and it spoke to me. I also read these blogs where women bravely share their stories. That was it, big or small I wanted help with my problems.

The first Psychiatrist I called didn't have an appointment till after Christmas. The second Psychiatrist told me that I needed to stop breastfeeding because and I quote "What is the benefit of breastfeeding?" Um, okay...

So when I got off the phone with them I called my midwives and ironically the lactation consultant answered the phone. We discussed Shrink #2's narrow world view and she made an appointment for me.

Within an hour the midwife who I was to see the following week called me from her personal cell to make sure I was okay and to tell me she was willing to write a script right now. Have I told you how awesome those midwives are? I picked up my generic 25mg of Zoloft (breastfeeding safe, thankyouverymuch) and took the first that evening. I could feel it when it hit my bloodstream, if you've ever taken Adderall or Benadryl or even Tylenol with Codeine you know how it feels when a medication first starts to metabolize. I felt a little loopy- but the tension in my shoulders almost immediately relaxed.

It's been 4 days and it's honestly incredible. It's like a veil is lifting. It's impossible to explain without using metaphor and hyperbole. Suffice it to say I feel much, much better... and this is just the beginning. The oddest 'side effect' is I was using my inhaler 3-4 times a day before I started the Zoloft and now I haven't used it in 3 days. Dare I say- I'm kinda excited?! I don't really freak out much anymore. I don't hardly see a need to yell. I feel so relived.

Daylight Savings Time

My @ss! More like "Here's a fun way for a formerly agrarian society to torture parents with overly tired children and ridiculously early wake-up times."

I feel jet-lagged like WOAH.


On an upside: both kids are sleeping (when they sleep) really well and Jack is happily paci-free 100% of the time! And I'm having a great week seeing some fabulous people who I don't get to see as often as I'd like! And I did this pose in yoga class yesterday- total head rush!

Security Blanket

Lately I am not myself. Trying to sell my house is extremely stressful. The fact that the bank we were trying to buy a house from, once upon a time; remember that? Well, the bank is trying to keep our earnest money. Lawyers are involved. They have no legal reason to keep it, it's actually against bank policy to try to keep earnest money a situation like ours, but this particular asset manager apparently doesn't know his asset from his elbow and he's trying to keep our money. None of this is fun, none of this is pretty and I have nothing but venom to say about it.

If you think I'm not blogging as much, or calling you as much or seeing you as much there is a reason. I'm too stressed out, depressed and totally and completely hopeless about what's going on that I can barely live through the day. Getting groceries is overwhelming. I don't say this for pity, I have enough of that! I say this to explain my need for a security blanket.

I am reading Harry Potter again. I usually find myself reading it each fall. As the weather starts to get crisp I find reading a book about school, set in England to be extremely fitting. HP is more than a seasonally-appropriate read to me. When I feel down I find myself turning the pages reading about butterbeer, maroon jumpers with lions on them, secrets, and a battle of good vs. evil. It feels safe to read HP- like an old friend who always gives the best advice. Between the lines I find my own lessons, reasons to have faith, fight for what I believe in and make the right choices. Even when I don't look for deeper meaning, when I don't seek comfort; it's never just a book, it's always more.

So when you're down, aside from a margarita or a bar of chocolate what do you find comfort in?

Working on it...

I'm working on this post about what's going on with me right now and I'm having a hard time putting it into words. The problem is several things at once: I'm stressed out about selling & buying the houses, I'm feeling like a sub-par mom lately, I don't know if I should just hold on for dear life and trust that it will all be over soon or I should put on my big girl panties and get out of my funk. I don't know that I have the where-with-all to pull myself out of this funk.

Usually I'm pretty good at self-reflecting and seeing what it is that I need to snap out of it and then I just do it. I think I'm feeling like life is coming at me from all sides so I don't know where to start.

Pedicure and a ladies night out, though always good for the soul, might not be enough this time.

I also find myself avoiding my friends because I'm such a Debbie Downer that I don't want to subject people to me. Which I know is part of the problem...

I need to get some fun and not overwhelming activities on my agenda. I know I deserve to be in a good place but my kids also deserve a mom who can roll with the punches not a mom who gets KOed by them.

Are we there yet?

Today is one of those days. Henry is nothing but fussy. He cannot and will not be comforted. He's uncomfortable and I can't do anything for him.

Jack has asked for his paci for the 12th time, has inquired about his third snack of the afternoon and will not play in the basement so at least I can get a break from at least one of them because "It's scary down dere, Mommy."

I just realized I haven't showered in about 3 days. There isn't enough salty/sweet/alcoholic treats in the world to make this sh*t show of a day seem better. But you know what? The Husband will be home in two hours and hopefully he'll take over so I can stop smelling like a dirty gym sock.

1:59:59..... 1:5958.... 1:59:57.....

Traffic was bad, Real bad

Every mid-Atlantic beach I've ever been to has one small 2 lane road leading all beach-visitors to their destination. This means traffic backs up for miles and crawls at an unreasonably slow pace. (Hello, transporation people... this is a problem we can solve!)

Henry seems to take great pleasure in making our road trips memorable, so while we're sitting in this painfully slow line of cars I hear all the tell-tale signs of an eminent diaper change. Seriously, though, traffic was so bad people were honking and shouting at each other. The one road that was merging with ours no one on our road was letting anyone in, it was madness. The Husband suggests that we pull over and change Henry's diaper and I'm all like "Oh no you didn't". I exaggerate, actually I gave the most logical and responsible parenting response I could think of: "No way, no one is ever going to let us back in. I'll hop out, grab Henry and change him on the side of the road while you keep driving."

So that's exactly what I did.
I cannot believe Matt grabbed this pic of Henry and I in the rear view mirror as he left us in the dust.

It was a pretty smart idea of mine on paper, but the practical applications weren't well thought out. See, running about 300 yards to catch up with my car while wearing flip flops and carrying the infant car seat is no small feat. Waddle waddle waddle.

Next road trip I'm wearing my runnin' shoes.

Distracted

Please tell me I'm not the only one who gets on the computer with the goal of competing a simple task like looking up directions or checking the hours a store is open but then I end up burning time reading blogs, checking e-mail and messing around on facebook. Now I'm even blogging about wasting time when I was just trying to check the hours and location of the nearest FedEx/Kinkos. Bah!

Updated
The universe did not want me to get my project laminated today! I got the boys in the car and they fell asleep immediately. I took them to what I thought was the closest FedEx Office (with lamination station) but alas it was just a shipping pick up/drop off. Trying to get in and out the door at the store I now actually have scratches because the door was so heavy and cumbersome I barely got me through let alone the stroller... don't even get me started on the ADA accessibility issue. So back in the car we head on down the road and the turn we're supposed to make is blocked by police because the traffic lights are out and they're redirecting flow. We finally get to FedEx and get laminatin'. Then we wander over to the Petco, which saved the trip for Jack because he got to see cats, rats, turtles and fish. So despite the there and back again nature of what should have been a quick trip we still managed to find the fun. Here's to you, Petco, you're the busy mom version of a Zoo trip.

That's not what I ordered...

One
On the day that I went into labor with Henry I *thought* I *might* be in labor so I went down to the midwives for a labor check. They thought I wasn't in labor, hah! I sure showed them!
Anyway, that was a long morning so on the way back home I stopped at Einstein Bagels for a tasty turkey sandwich ::drool::. Well, the drive thru was closed and so I went inside and waited 5 minutes at the counter for someone to acknowledge I was there. Then I waited for a few minutes while the cashier talked at basically the volume of a jet engine to some other guy so that I could, you know, pay. Then he forgot to give me my cup so I couldn't get a drink-nor get a word in edgewise- while I waited, and waited and waited for my food, which when it came was not what I ordered. Then I got in my car, twitching, and drove home so I could call corporate because, seriously, that's not what I call service.

I basically left a message with corporate just explaining the deal and I figured since the guy who refused to ring me up was the one wearing the little Manager badge the district guy might at least read him the riot act for getting a complaint.

So today in the mail I get a letter from corporate with vouchers for 2 free sandwiches and a free bakers dozen bagels. Um, awesome! You have not lost a customer, Einstein... well played. I will however be going to the other location near me next time.


Two
At my 6 week check up my midwives discussed birth control and I would LOVE to use the Mirena because something a. I don't have to think about and b. can make my periods shorter and lighter sounds like a pretty sweet deal. Unfortunately I've never done well with hormone birth control. I've tried: ortho tri-cycline, ortho cycline, ortho evra, and the nuva ring. Each one has made me crazy (it's not uncommon for some women to experience severe enough emotional effects from birth control that it doesn't make sense for them to use that type of method). And when I say 'crazy' I mean crazy-von-crazy of crazytown. Knowing this my midwives suggested the mini-pill as a way to test my sensitivity to progesterone (because everything but mini-pill and the Mirena includes estrogen and progesterone).

Sadly I took another trip to crazytown and now will have to resort exclusively to hormone-free methods, because seriously what partner is willing to have 'relations' with a person who hates him, everyone else and is willing to demonstrate this by cursing like a sailor every chance she gets? I'm starting to wonder if the pharmacy is mixing up my order for birth control with someone else's order for crazy-pills.... Hmmmm.....


This pill-poppin' problem does explain why I seem to be missing all the basic coping skills a parent of two should have and why until this point having two has been stressful, yes but not unmanageable. It has also seemed that Henry has been quite a... um... pill lately and behold through the power of Google I have discovered that some women who used the mini-pill noticed a serious increase in fussiness because their milk flavor/supply/whatever changed enough to make the baby cranky. Fortunately most report that within 2 weeks of stopping the pill the baby returned to their non-fussy self.

Tomorrow *updated*

Tomorrow must be better than today, right? Everything started out right, we had a fun morning playdate. Henry was awake from 7:30 till about, oh... 5 minutes ago. Jack is in his room tearing the place apart. I have had to run up there to sing a song, get water, play 'where'd puppy dog go?' Finally I explained to him that he doesn't want me to come back because my blood is just boiling right now.

I'm not just a mommy, I'm a human being! I need to eat and at the very least pee too, people. Which means I need at least 5 minutes here and there in order to keep producing milk for the baby and keep calm and collected enough that I don't kill (not really) my toddler. But seriously, can't a girl catch a break?!?!

Dear Universe,
Tomorrow please give me two kids who will sleep at the same time for at least an hour and, if it's not too much to ask, will act like humans and not demon spawn while they're awake.
-Thanks.

**UPDATED**
Dear Universe,
Thank you for the 1.5 hours (and counting) I've had to myself today. I had time to watch the Real World Road Rules Fresh Meat Challenge and watch some other pointless, mindless TV. I have enough mental/emotional energy to take Jack out on to the deck to play with his playdoh this afternoon. I very much appreciate the me-time today! Please send more in the future, if you don't mind!
-Thanks

Phase 3 in Toddler Sleep

Just to recap:
Phase 1- utter despair, sleep deprivation, and complaining about a situation that we as parents in due diligence must acknowledge that we have somehow created.
Phase 2- explain to Jack that when he 'goes night-night' he is, in-fact, going to be 'okay' and 'mommy and daddy will be right here, doing night-night too'.

Phase 2 essentially worked. Going to bed, and going back to bed (during the course of the night) have returned to the quick and dirty processes they have always been. Here's a paci, here's a little song. Peace out, cub scout.

Well' on any given night we seem to have quite the varying rate of success and there seems to be no correlation with the day's activities. Once a week he goes to sleep immediately and doesn't need us till morning. Probably 2-3 times a week we have one or 2 wake-ups or 1 bedtime do-over and 1 mid-night wake up, no big deal, considering where we were a month ago. The other 4 days a week we'll have somewhere between 3 and 6 wake-ups or bedtime do-overs. These night I could, obviously do without. I'm sure Matt could too, since he's the one (the only one) Jack is calling for.

All of this leads us to Phase 3.

Phase 3- reward the nights that he does well. I know what you're thinking. DUH! Well, I've got pregnancy brain and sleep deprivation so this didn't occur to me until the other day, so STFU!

I remember talking to a friend parenting expert who was telling me that her 3 year old still asks for a drink of water 6/7 nights usually at a really convenient time like 3am. They tried all kinds of bribery and pleading to no avail. Finally one night that she didn't do it they said "Wow, Emma, you did such a great job staying in your bed all night. I'm so proud of you!" Next night... she didn't need water.

So Saturday night we talked about how it was a 'good, big-boy thing to do' to stay in bed all night. We only had one wake up. In the morning we told Jack how great a job he did, only needing Daddy one time in the middle of the night. We talked about it again tonight before bed. I've already heard him wake up once, crying, he put himself back to bed (he literally hasn't done that in 3 months!) I'm not calling it a success yet... but we are certainly embracing Phase 3 of the Official FruitCake Sleep Solutions guide.

Why cross out 'parenting expert', you ask? There are only 2 parenting experts in the world: people who have never had kids so they can comfortably pretend that they actually know everything, and people who are so divorced from reality that they actually believe they have all the answers. Even said friend, with her 4 kids, 10 years or 22 combined years experience knows she doesn't have all... or even half the answers.

What works for me won't work for everyone, what works for me now probably won't work for me next week.

That is a parenting lesson I can get behind.

Good News!

I bring you good news on this MLK day 2010! MLK 2006 was the night that Matt proposed. MLK 2007 we were about to buy this house. MLK 2008 was Jack's ::cough:: Due ::cough:: date. I have no idea what MLK 2009 was, but this year I have some very exciting news:

Jack is officially sleeping better!!!!

We tried everything. We tried sitting/standing in his room till he fell asleep (which mean nap/bedtime was a 45 minute ritual), we tried bribery with treats, we tried time-outs, we tried yelling at him and there may have been a butt-swat thrown in once. All to no avail. Finally for nap on Wednesday I decided rationally explaining to him what was happening.

"Jack, it's time for nap. Mommy is going to be downstairs. You're going to be OK. It's time to lay down and go night-night."

As I'm explaining 'the plan' to him I'm thinking to myself "This is NEVER going to work." As soon as I was done explaining to him I shut the door. Silence. I went down stairs waiting for him to change his mind and start screaming... silence. I couldn't believe it.

In all our attempts to get him to go to sleep, treating him like an adult and just explaining to him what 'the plan' was never occurred to either of us. We did it for bedtime, and for the midnight wake-ups. And each night was more and more drama-free. He's still waking up maybe once or twice a night but Matt just goes in and says "It's time for night-night. Mommy and Daddy are right here, we're going night-night in our bed, you're going to lay down and go night-night in your bed." To which Jack replies "Okay." And he lays down and Matt leaves and comes back to bed- 3 minutes or less. Every nap and night time since Wednesday has been the same (or maybe even a little better). We really can't believe it.

I haven't written anything about it for fear that I might jinx myself. And even still I'm wondering if nap and bedtime today will be as great as it has been... but I think it's commonly accepted that kids need 3 days to change a habit (where adults need 21) so since we're on day 5 I'm feeling 90% hopeful that we can expect continued success.