New Faces and Places

Maybe we have been cooped up in the house too long because of all this winter weather.  Maybe it is the seed that H repeatedly tries to plant in my head about TD branching out her set of friends.  Whatever it was, we took a trip just down the road to new horizons this week. 

We went to a group play date.  Did your hand just fly to your mouth as you gasped in shock?  I know.  I broke our ridiculous and now monotanous routine of work, gym, school, work/play, neighborhood play, dinner, bed.  Wake up and do it all again. Gag, snore. 

I don't know why it takes me so long to do these things.  I don't know why I don't schedule them myself. Oh right (smacks forehead) I hate entertaining.  That's why.  Hives. Hives! There would be hives.  I swear if you left me alone long enough I would turn inward and probably grow a crusty shell like a hermit crab.  You would find me talking to myself or a wall in a very animated conversation and eating cold soup out of can.  I would be pretty content for a while too as long as I got to yell at the neighbors every few days ("Get a haircut!") and you kept me stocked with Bloody Mary mix.

Unlike most days where we have a ton of things scheduled I woke up this morning excited. I was excited about the possibilities of new friendships for TD as well as for myself.  I love my neigbhorhood dearly but in the last few weeks it has become rather stale.  I was about to stage at re-enactment from 'Escape from Alcatraz' any day now and I needed off our own 'rock', er, frozen tundra and off into someone else's cozy home.  Judging by the happy smiles, quiet house we later came home to and content feeling we all seem to now have, I would say the kids needed it just as badly as I did.  Being in someone else's home and talking to other mothers was like a breath of fresh spring air.  Immediately my creativity flared and my branching out made me feel that the buds on the trees aren't too far off.  When one little girl told me, "TD is welcome to play at my house anytime!" I beamed and not just for TD.  I welcome the new friendships for me too. 

Confessions of a Cheater

I just might be a sloth.  My motivation and will to work out has completely left me.  While my butt aches from sitting on the couch so much, it is about all I can do most of the time these days.  Yes, my friends things have changed.  Do you hear the hoof beats of the horsemen of the Apocalypse too?  I just can't seem to get back on track.

I have not indulged in any alcohol at all this month, I am, along with others, 18 days into this No Sugar/Alcohol Thirty Day Challenge and I am confessing to cheating on the sugar front.  Not even cheating, just downright diving in.  I had a Frosty last night from Wendy's while I watched the Golden Globes.  A delicious, smooth, creamy, frozen cup of bliss.  I needed it. OK?! Just leave me and my cold, tempting treat alone.  We love each other!  Before the Frosty there was Coke.  I don't even drink soda but lately it is like sipping heaven.  It soothes me so.  There was also an incident involving some maple syrup as well.  Kicking the sugar at this point in my life has proved harder than I originally thought.  On New Year's Eve when H and I made the proclamation I figured I would feel cleansed and powerful at this point. I would feel trim and strong.  In fact, I feel tired, soft and of the five-toed sloth variety.  I am not a good example right now.  Not. At. All. 

H, on the other hand, is a good example. The man gave up fried foods and processed foods as well as the sugar and alcohol.  He stuck with it too until this past Sunday when my need to get us out of the house propelled us into a local eatery and he succumbed to a chicken parm sandwich, a coke and fries.  For shame!  Not really. His skin is glowing!  He looks fit, healthy and svelte.  Eliminating all that sugar and fat from his diet has proved difficult but not unrealistic. 

Me though?  You should just kick me off your happy, skinny, hard-working motivational team. OK, not really. I did create this whole challenge and I plan to get back on it.  My emotional eating must be controlled and I promise to do better for the remainder of the month. 

I'll Get There. Right?

I went for a walk with The Comedian this morning.  I needed out.  Lately our home has begun to feel like a prison to me.  Winters are typically hard for me.  I've had Seasonal Affective Disorder for as long as I can remember.  I grew up with New England winters.  There is a reason I don't live there any more and those winters are it.  They last too long, are too cold and too bleak.  Some years are harder than others and this would be one of those years.  I think the combination of big snow coming early to our parts with record cold temperatures and some stunning news that came my way has really gotten to me at this not so optimal time of year. Mentally, physically and emotionally I'm a little screwed up right now. 

Being outside this morning helped.  The sunshine and bracing cold temps. The fact that I forgot to wear gloves and worked up a sweat as I pushed the stroller stuffed with a sleeping baby up winding hills.  I felt cleaner.  I saw homes being built and the sound of hammer to nails being driven into wood made me feel oddly productive as well. 

I need goals.  I need plans. I need to feel like myself again.  I need to not wake up each morning feeling like someone slipped me a roofie.  I need to stop pacing my house and seeing the same things.  I feel like I'm living Groundhog Day.  I find when I'm out among other people at social events I feel better. My mind is busy with other things.  It's not focusing on the dark, creeping feelings and the sickness that has populated my days of late.  It's the day to day living, the moment to momentness I have to go through in order to get through each day that is so hard.  I know at some point it will turn around.  It's just hard to see that sometimes.  Bear with me everyone as I deal with what I've got going on.  I'm trying my best to get through this in a good, healthy way. 

I'm the Dumb Ass

Holy canned creamed corn dogs do I hate February. Well, doesn't that just sound like a hot mess of something you don't want anything to do with? Really, I try to be optimistic about it even going so far as to read this post about finding the positives in February. It's TD's, my grandmother's and my father's birthday. It's Valentines day too. A day I used to champion with the line, "V-Day. It's better than D-Day."

However, it is always this month that I begin to feel itchy in my skin. While the days are shorter they feel endlessly long and tiring. My brain ceases to function and I'm always sick. My work suffers as does my soul (isn't that dramatic?). I lose any of the motivation I had in January and all I want to do is curl up on the couch and read a good book. In a sense I just want to hibernate. Even the sunlight seems to sell out during this month. It's cheap looking. What E and I used to call, 'K-Mart lighting." As if it was a blue light special or something. I want to be outside but when I get out there I want to flee back into the warm, ice-free indoors. My attitude is much like a light switch being flicked on and off continuously creating your own personal strobe light effect. Wheee!!! Isn't' this fun. Um.. no, not so much.

Yesterday, I felt better. The cold was going away and I felt in control of things. I got things accomplished and felt rested. Today? Not so much. I awoke this morning feeling night of the living dead tired. An industrial-sized bottle of Gummi vitamins being shaken in my face. TD's newest obsession. The girl is healthy, I'll give her that. I had been up no less than three times last night and I felt like I was back in some sort of sorority pledge hazing ritual. The only thing missing was a constant loop of the song, 'Cotton-Eye Joe' being played in the background. The cold is back on and I just want to burrow under the covers and hope that when I come out from under them it will be sunny and 70. The lack of sleep and the constant feeling under the weather thing is not helping my frame of mind. I find myself day dreaming about long hours of uninterrupted sleep, warmer days and actually having the motivation to herd us all to the gym. I hate the way I look and feel right now and yet without the key component of a good nights sleep I don't feel as if I'm ever going to get better. Sleep is a carrot. I'm the dumb ass who is pulling the cart. I'm constantly walking ahead trying to grab that juicy carrot and take a big bite.

Biting the Big One

I'm not quite sure where to begin. It's not like when I was younger and I could just go off for a few days, write some deeply unprofound thoughts in my journal, break a few things and take a series of long drives. I barely have time to remember to turn off the burners on the stove these days much less time to figure out what is normal.

That's the thing- I don't know what is normal anymore.

I don't think it is normal to keep thinking such incredibly sad, circular thoughts. Thoughts that don't even make sense. Like sitting down feeding Dash Two and remembering the death of my 6th grade friend's mother. The crack in her twelve year old voice as she called from the hospital to let me know that it had finally happened. Suddenly, that memory is playing over and over again in my mind and I feel the tears welling up - again. For the bazillionth time that day.

Is it normal or just being the mother of two small children to be making lunch and realize you forgot to turn off the shower over an hour ago? When you run upstairs to turn it off you hear the water running but instead you just stand and stare at it and get lost in some sort of brain fuzz until your kid comes up to ask you what you are doing. You don't know what you are doing so you just head back downstairs. Later you wonder, "Did I finally turn off the shower?"

I'm a New Englander born and raised and we seem to be genetically programmed to Seasonal Affective Disorder. So is this just the winter blues or something more? The something more is scaring the crap out of me these last few days. OK, weeks. It's been creeping up like a sullen child from the dark, dank corners of my mind for a while now. I've been fighting it tooth and nail and I think I'm finally beginning to feel too weak to combat it anymore.

I know that lack of sleep and all the hormones can contribute to Postpartum Depression. I want this to not be it so badly, for it to just be the winter blues because really? What on earth do I have to be depressed about?! My kids are healthy. I have a roof over my head, my health, a loving H and a great family. BUT MY GOD I JUST CANNOT STOP CRYING. Except between the hours of 6-11 pm when I try really freakin' hard to keep it together and make jokes and feel normal and keep it all so neat and tidy. Who wants to come home to a crying mess every day? Then yesterday as I sat idling in traffic and the tears started again over something so ridiculous as remembering a moment in the inauguration (a very happy day damn it!) I could just picture my heart and it was gushing this black goopy mess all over the place and I could see this one thread, one stitch just keeping it all together. Keeping it all from falling completely apart. I thought, "Just one tiny pluck of that thread and I'll be done. I'll be completely unraveled and I don't know how to stop that from happening."

HOLY FUCK this SUCKS.

I want this to just go away. I keep thinking like a chant in my head, "Just be happy. You are fine. Shut up whiny little girl. Suck it up!" For a while that works. And then it just doesn't. Then I feel like I'm going to explode and instead of feeling hostile and violent like last time I just feel incredibly weepy and unmotivated. The sadness is overwhelming. It leaves me harried, exhausted beyond comprehension and like I've been stuck with a tranquilizer dart. I don't even want to look people in the eye anymore and I have no idea who I am. I want nothing to do with anything. One minute I'm ready to tackle the day, the next I just want to hold my kids and not leave the house, ever. Suddenly I'm roaring to go, the next I want to call the whole day off. If this is winter blues, so be it. If it is something else, I don't even want to know. I don't have time for it. I don't have time for the drugs, the therapy, the journal writing and everything else they prescribed last time. I don't want to talk to my parents about it. I don't want to talk to anyone about it. I don't want it to be real and if I say what I'm thinking aloud then it just might be true and I just don't think I can handle it.

But I don't know where else to go or what else to do. And I'm tired of feeling alone.


If anyone has any advice please let me know. I can't even bring myself to look up stuff up online these days. I realized I had a problem when I wrote this for Honest Baby this week.

Old Man Winter- Your bags are packed and ready to go

It is precisely during this week each winter that I decide, Enough is enough! I'm through with you Old Man Winter! Scram! You gots to git! Last year I was a bit preoccupied being in the throes of labor and all and was able to delay the winter doldrums by a week. I remember being home, oh about one day, and looking out the window in T.D.'s brand new room and seeing the snow, the cold gray sky and starkly black branches against the wintry landscape and feeling despair. Seasonal Affective Disorder loomed large on my horizon. The winter blues had officially set in.

In 30 degree weather I started walking. This year I come back from my sun-filled trip to snow, then slush, then ice. Then more snow. Then some more ice. Ha Ha Old Man Winter. Ha Ha. Real cute. I'm sick of cold feet and hands and piling on the blankets. Drinking cocoa and gazing out the window at the white landscape holds no charms for me. I'm sick of cocoa and hot tea. I want to sip and iced drink and not feel that my innards are freezing over. No amount of gym time or getting out of the house does the trick. I just can't shake this irritated itchy skin feeling. I do not enjoy spending two hours outside in freezing temps shoveling out my car and walkway. Nor do I enjoy trying to chip away at the 1x1 foot slice of icy mess my neighbor (Yes, the poop ones who recently got another lovely package on their front step courtesy of H.) felt compelled to leave. That's right, they couldn't find the strength apparently to shovel one more shovels-worth of snow. Now each time I walk to my mailbox I almost kill myself on that patch. I curse them daily. I stare at their house and simoultaneously try to melt that patch of ice/snow with my heated gaze. I loathe their extreme laziness in all things. Loathe it.

It does not help my wintry mood. I swear if I have to heat up the tea kettle and dash outside to dislodge my tires one more time this season I just may decide to never leave my house again. I'll just wait out Mr. OMW. That's the thing about the winter blues. It wraps it's icy grip on you and won't shake free until the first set of crocuses appear. It leaves you with a boredom induced patience to ride it out though or it you go crazy. Either or. One of those two will happen soon.