Remember how I said I was going to do Weight Watchers? Well, I kind of knew in my heart that it wasn't for me...so I have started Atkins. I am on day four of NO carbs. I am already skinnier, but I am not going to weigh myself until I am to day 14 of the phase 1. If you knew how I truly ate before, you would really be shocked at what a huge difference this is for me.
Bagels
pop
toast
pop
sandwhiches
crackers
pop
sugar coffee
noodles
rice
pop
sweets
cereal
repeat! cookies! chips! beans! nachos! pancakes!
now its more like tuna, lettuce, chicken, salad, eggs, cheese, nuts, broccoli, coffee with splenda, diet coke maybe once a day.
I am very excited about this. I have diabetes in every nook and cranny of my family tree, and tons of signs of insukin resistance of my own. I gain almost all of my weight in my belly, and can gain tons of weight wthout going up a pant size...classic "Apple". Plus lost of falling alseep the moment I eat carbs, and mood swings up the wazoo.
In 2 weeks I will be slowly reintroducing whole grains and fruit, but will probably never be a brownie and donut girl ever again. I had 35 years of that stuff and it never did anything good for me, so I am not too "sad".
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Saturday, April 3, 2010
I'm Thirty Five!!!!!!
Today is my birthday and I am 35! Thirty was not anything for me, no biggie, just an innocent little Mama, pregnant with Charlie, still "knew it all" etc. Boy how five years changes everything!
I am really taking this 35 thing seriously. I am joining Weight Watchers online, I am going to get up early to a --gulp--actual alarm clock 5 days a week, I am going to exercise, for real, and I am just different. Its all positive stuff, just healthy adult stuff.
I though that when my mom died that I would get all tattooed up, maybe get all reckless, smoking and drinking...well I did revert back to some hair colors, but thats about it. The self destructive or wild child stuff didnt really end up sounding too appealing after all. Its been more of a quiet daily shadow, sometimes sad, sometimes warm, sometimes horribly scary. I was very aware today that Mom wasn't going to telephone me, and neither was Grandma. This was the first time in my life for that. Bless my sister and my mother in law for calling, and to all the Facebook pals who wrote on my "wall"---it really is nice.
Steve got me the most precious fat little yellow canary last night. He is the BEST. He sings already, and he is just perfect. I love him. The kids cannot believe how loud and amazing his song is-- I had canaries as a big part of my childhood, but the last canary we had, my amazing Cosmo, died unexpectedly right before Greta was born, and we havent had one since. They are expensive, and I guess thats why we never bought a new one, but they are so special, a singing pretty birdie right in your home! He even got me a green cage, my favorite color.
Our new house is soooooo great, I am so sorry I haven't written more about it or done pictures yet. We fit in it just perfectly, and I think maybe Casey with his never ending experiments and Eska with her toddly wanderings have probably enjoyed the change the most-- but we all agree, it is just wonderful "out here". I feel a little sheepish about white-flight as this is not an inner ring suburb and that is closer to where I have almost always lived, but we are near Steves work and nature and... well, we are happy.
I cut my hair quite a bit and died it "red" but it is like a maraschino cherry pink, which is fun, too. I have to leave it for a while now and so I am happy to be stuck with such a pretty shade.
Off to go have birthday evening fun with my angel husband, happy birthday indeed :)
Love you all...homeschool stuff to discuss next...
MamaJoy
Monday, March 15, 2010
The C word and the F word
FUCK CSECTIONS.
Yeah I said it. Duh, right? I still am gonna say it forever, cause Ive had three of these gory brutal invasive terrifying fucking surgeries, THREE babies whose mother was a complete drugged out invalid, Each fucking cesarean was a hundred times worse than the previous one--no fuck that--a thousand times worse, then ten thousand. I promise you. Who am I directing this to, exactly? Poor pregnant ladies? Hardly. The mean old doctor who hates you and cuts you up for no reason? har har, but nope. Just to the WORLD. To the fucking world. You all need to fully grasp what a crock and a farce and a huge, HUGE deal this thing is. this thing that is apparently happening to nearly half of all the mamas-- HALF???? That chapter in the cheesy pregnancy book you kinda didnt even read cause it was a bummer and bad luck--well its all fucking LIES, my darlings, the little lady doing some weird sit-up in some gross leotard--no. This is not the scenario, THIS IS NOT WHAT MY CSECTION WAS LIKE, AT ALL. It wasnt about a fucking nursing pillow or fucking tylenols or fucking deep breathing. It was about searing, sizzling, jolting, clunking, crushing, swollen, twisted, lost, misplaced organs, it is about being a broken, oh so fucking broken fucking flower, a beautiful tragic flower, with a rose for a head, strong green leaves at the base, and a pulverized, decimated liquid mush covered in tears and staples and milk and gauze and pus dandelion stem.
A pregnancy, a beautiful live healthy baby--the blessing is too overwhelming to comprehend-- this alien swirling and swelling your every moment towards ultimate ripeness--and to think of how the mother, the vessel of life, the beautiful gigantic rose pregnant goddess mama, laid out naked and fucking STRAPPED down to a metal SLAB, robot lights zooming down upon her purest glory with blue nasty spearmint sinister glowering glare--to think of then TAKING A KNIFE--A __KNIFE!!!!!__ and searing right into her like that???? It stands in direct opposition of everything that has transpired for 10 moons.
And what of the baby? Oh, the dear baby-- well its so difficult explain how a sectioned woman receiving her child is from the truly transcendent supernova that is reaching down into yourself--your SELF and lifting up your baby. Upside down vomiting into your eyes and nose and seeing a small tunnel visioned glimpse of some red face in a blanket while there are deafening gurgling suction noises coming from behind the magic curtain....well it is cool, to see your baby's face a little bit, its awesome that the baby is "here", alive and whole, but pretty much your body can't decide whether to shake uncontrollably, to vomit violently, retching for air, or just nod in and out of consciousness for the next undisclosed time period. So um, no, it ain't really the same, hmm?
One can only wonder how they seal the deal--I hear there is a lot more medical glue and a lot less stitches going on nowadays. I like that I have to learn about my own belly from the internet, lemme tell you. But they do it roughly, they do it rote-ly, and they don't go easy--after all, you are still numb, and they don't ever have to see you again. So expect extensive, alarming bruising, inside and out. Then the lovely staples. STAPLES??? I almost fucking fainted when some nonchalant bitch , one of hundreds of non chalant childless mean 23 year old bitches who would fucking PARADE into my bedroom-- well it is isnt it? You are in bed barely clothed--so it is your bedroom--when she told me "You gotta watch out for yer staples, bla blabla" MY WHA??? S T A P L E S??? I was horrified, alarmed, scared. I felt that magic curtain come back up, whenever "the wound" was discussed, I just felt it go up up up and we were all just chatting about some other poor old soul who has been attacked by King Arthur's best swordsman or some shit--right? My staples? blech!!!!!
But you do get the courteous little gauze patch, its size rather belying the extent of your actual injuries-- are you fucking kidding me, I feel like a foolish fucking moron with this tiny little white rectangle taped to my upper crotch, someone come in this room and give me a full body cast, some blipping machinery, and a continuous drip of actual fucking painkillers that actually work!!! Hell, I could have used one of those halo things that head injury victims use, where you have your entire head encircled with a metal ring and that ring is connected to your shoulders--that is just the tip of the iceburg of how much insane pain I was in after I had my Eska.
Thats all for tonight. its taken me 21 months to even hint at a real honest birth story of Eskarina, but maybe this small post will help unveil everything to anyone who still reads this blog.
Yeah I said it. Duh, right? I still am gonna say it forever, cause Ive had three of these gory brutal invasive terrifying fucking surgeries, THREE babies whose mother was a complete drugged out invalid, Each fucking cesarean was a hundred times worse than the previous one--no fuck that--a thousand times worse, then ten thousand. I promise you. Who am I directing this to, exactly? Poor pregnant ladies? Hardly. The mean old doctor who hates you and cuts you up for no reason? har har, but nope. Just to the WORLD. To the fucking world. You all need to fully grasp what a crock and a farce and a huge, HUGE deal this thing is. this thing that is apparently happening to nearly half of all the mamas-- HALF???? That chapter in the cheesy pregnancy book you kinda didnt even read cause it was a bummer and bad luck--well its all fucking LIES, my darlings, the little lady doing some weird sit-up in some gross leotard--no. This is not the scenario, THIS IS NOT WHAT MY CSECTION WAS LIKE, AT ALL. It wasnt about a fucking nursing pillow or fucking tylenols or fucking deep breathing. It was about searing, sizzling, jolting, clunking, crushing, swollen, twisted, lost, misplaced organs, it is about being a broken, oh so fucking broken fucking flower, a beautiful tragic flower, with a rose for a head, strong green leaves at the base, and a pulverized, decimated liquid mush covered in tears and staples and milk and gauze and pus dandelion stem.
A pregnancy, a beautiful live healthy baby--the blessing is too overwhelming to comprehend-- this alien swirling and swelling your every moment towards ultimate ripeness--and to think of how the mother, the vessel of life, the beautiful gigantic rose pregnant goddess mama, laid out naked and fucking STRAPPED down to a metal SLAB, robot lights zooming down upon her purest glory with blue nasty spearmint sinister glowering glare--to think of then TAKING A KNIFE--A __KNIFE!!!!!__ and searing right into her like that???? It stands in direct opposition of everything that has transpired for 10 moons.
And what of the baby? Oh, the dear baby-- well its so difficult explain how a sectioned woman receiving her child is from the truly transcendent supernova that is reaching down into yourself--your SELF and lifting up your baby. Upside down vomiting into your eyes and nose and seeing a small tunnel visioned glimpse of some red face in a blanket while there are deafening gurgling suction noises coming from behind the magic curtain....well it is cool, to see your baby's face a little bit, its awesome that the baby is "here", alive and whole, but pretty much your body can't decide whether to shake uncontrollably, to vomit violently, retching for air, or just nod in and out of consciousness for the next undisclosed time period. So um, no, it ain't really the same, hmm?
One can only wonder how they seal the deal--I hear there is a lot more medical glue and a lot less stitches going on nowadays. I like that I have to learn about my own belly from the internet, lemme tell you. But they do it roughly, they do it rote-ly, and they don't go easy--after all, you are still numb, and they don't ever have to see you again. So expect extensive, alarming bruising, inside and out. Then the lovely staples. STAPLES??? I almost fucking fainted when some nonchalant bitch , one of hundreds of non chalant childless mean 23 year old bitches who would fucking PARADE into my bedroom-- well it is isnt it? You are in bed barely clothed--so it is your bedroom--when she told me "You gotta watch out for yer staples, bla blabla" MY WHA??? S T A P L E S??? I was horrified, alarmed, scared. I felt that magic curtain come back up, whenever "the wound" was discussed, I just felt it go up up up and we were all just chatting about some other poor old soul who has been attacked by King Arthur's best swordsman or some shit--right? My staples? blech!!!!!
But you do get the courteous little gauze patch, its size rather belying the extent of your actual injuries-- are you fucking kidding me, I feel like a foolish fucking moron with this tiny little white rectangle taped to my upper crotch, someone come in this room and give me a full body cast, some blipping machinery, and a continuous drip of actual fucking painkillers that actually work!!! Hell, I could have used one of those halo things that head injury victims use, where you have your entire head encircled with a metal ring and that ring is connected to your shoulders--that is just the tip of the iceburg of how much insane pain I was in after I had my Eska.
Thats all for tonight. its taken me 21 months to even hint at a real honest birth story of Eskarina, but maybe this small post will help unveil everything to anyone who still reads this blog.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Our New House
So we have moved. Finally. Away from the teeny tiny experimental house that alas, turned out to be somewhat from hell. One small living space, about the size of an area rug. Thats all we had for a home. Blech. Lots of bad memories and cluttery stress.
So now we live in what we of course truly hope and plan to be a long time home. It is 1600 square feet of 1925 bungalow-y goodness. About 2 miles north enough to feel kinda country-ish, but of course surrounded by loads of McMansions and silly subdivisions with silly names that bely their guilt at destroying natural beauty for the sake of taupey snore-ville. Walnut Creek, Glen Meadows, Forest View---BWA HA HA I loathe that shit. But whatever. We have a large property, maybe 2 acres? and we have a gravel circular driveway, a dining room, a living room AND family room (woo hoo!) hardwood floors, and very importantly, a HUGE Oak tree. Some evergreens, a cottonwood, and what appear to be a few maples and apple/crabapples. (Its January, Im just giving it my best guess). The kitchen window where I stand and do endless dishes (no dishwasher! for real! gulp!) has three windows that stare out onto the wonderful backyard--in which we saw a fox our first day here. We have 2 deer x-ing signs on our street, and we are across the street from a nature center. I love it here! The kids and husband are already seeming more calm and peaceable, even with living out of boxes and bags somewhat.
Its really kind of like a dream, we like this place so much. And whats crazy is that it is so nondescript on the outisde (ugly even, if not certainly boring) that the first time I set up the appointment to come see the place, I truly almost drove off. But obviously, I did not, and the inside is really lovely. The whole thing is cozy and nice--especially with my immediate settingup of lots of little low wattage lamps everywhere. No overhead lighting for me, thank you very much, unless I am in some tanning booth or surgery, I detest white-bright-overhead lights. Blech.
I cannot wait until spring in this place. I think I might finally be ready to do some lady-stuff like plant a garden. I have a very black thumb and not the biggest desire to do alot of yardwork. But mostly its the knowledge that the gardening could be awesome and zen like but it will be interrupted or impossible due to the multiple children that has kept me away. Then the guilt and stress of the "other mommies" whose children garden with them, gentle little cherubic hands covered in rich black earth, in contrast to my few attempts to even re-pot some marigolds with them turning into a tear filled brat fest, and well, I have been reticent. But maybe this year, this house, could bring me to planting a few things and seeing what comes of it. I can certainly sprinkle out some wildflower mix, right?
Well, off to check the mailbox-- you have to walk way out front to get it--too exciting and novel for this city girl, lemme tell ya! Talk to you soon,
MamaJoy
So now we live in what we of course truly hope and plan to be a long time home. It is 1600 square feet of 1925 bungalow-y goodness. About 2 miles north enough to feel kinda country-ish, but of course surrounded by loads of McMansions and silly subdivisions with silly names that bely their guilt at destroying natural beauty for the sake of taupey snore-ville. Walnut Creek, Glen Meadows, Forest View---BWA HA HA I loathe that shit. But whatever. We have a large property, maybe 2 acres? and we have a gravel circular driveway, a dining room, a living room AND family room (woo hoo!) hardwood floors, and very importantly, a HUGE Oak tree. Some evergreens, a cottonwood, and what appear to be a few maples and apple/crabapples. (Its January, Im just giving it my best guess). The kitchen window where I stand and do endless dishes (no dishwasher! for real! gulp!) has three windows that stare out onto the wonderful backyard--in which we saw a fox our first day here. We have 2 deer x-ing signs on our street, and we are across the street from a nature center. I love it here! The kids and husband are already seeming more calm and peaceable, even with living out of boxes and bags somewhat.
Its really kind of like a dream, we like this place so much. And whats crazy is that it is so nondescript on the outisde (ugly even, if not certainly boring) that the first time I set up the appointment to come see the place, I truly almost drove off. But obviously, I did not, and the inside is really lovely. The whole thing is cozy and nice--especially with my immediate settingup of lots of little low wattage lamps everywhere. No overhead lighting for me, thank you very much, unless I am in some tanning booth or surgery, I detest white-bright-overhead lights. Blech.
I cannot wait until spring in this place. I think I might finally be ready to do some lady-stuff like plant a garden. I have a very black thumb and not the biggest desire to do alot of yardwork. But mostly its the knowledge that the gardening could be awesome and zen like but it will be interrupted or impossible due to the multiple children that has kept me away. Then the guilt and stress of the "other mommies" whose children garden with them, gentle little cherubic hands covered in rich black earth, in contrast to my few attempts to even re-pot some marigolds with them turning into a tear filled brat fest, and well, I have been reticent. But maybe this year, this house, could bring me to planting a few things and seeing what comes of it. I can certainly sprinkle out some wildflower mix, right?
Well, off to check the mailbox-- you have to walk way out front to get it--too exciting and novel for this city girl, lemme tell ya! Talk to you soon,
MamaJoy
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Time for pine green?
My hair is /was bright red and it is fading and there are roots (with grays! lots of them! are you f-ing kidding me? If you ever think I will embrace that shit at 34 you are KRAYZEE) and its time. Time for a change. You may recall my days of cobalt blaring blue and the days of neon grass green. But grass green gives me some memories of a very freaky time and Greta is now the proud owner of bright blue hair and so I have deliberated and went and bought Special Effect's Sonic Green last night. I will bleach this grey red birds nest out, it will turn bright yellow, I will apply Sonic Green, it will be gorgeous.
I hope!?!?!
I hope!?!?!
cabin fever is a state of mind
So, its cold and we live in a tiny house and my kids are messy and I am lazy and we are cozy and nursey and legos and puzzles and cords and wires and memory cards and disks and poker chips and dice and washcloths of all kinds are everywhere and there are 2 cats and a toddler and no basement and no upstairs and no laundry room so we do the wash in the kitchen and have nowhere to put it and they spill all day everyday and we throw a towel on the spill and then the baby takes the towel away chewing on it and we are happy.
For real. I know it is only January but I dont think we are going to "go nuts" this winter. I SERIOUSLY cannot imagine getting anyone up and out of here ANY morning, let alone 5 mornings. Nope. We are in our cozy nest. My kids are pink and smooshy-snuggly in their quilts, and they wander out and into my arms when they have had enough sleep. I often co sleep with Eska AND Charlie, both nursing off and on lazily, little warm paws on my belly, tucked under my arms, whatever. We keep the blankets on. We eat waffles and coffee with candy canes melted inside. We make nachos piled high and chili with smashed up Boca burgers and celery and corn in it. We drink throwback Pepsi with no corn syrup and we have blankets EVERYWHERE. We snuggle and read and do playdoh and so what if 90% of it gets sucked up in the vacuum hose later? The dishwasher hums and the laundry rumbles and the heater roars and I dont want to go anywhere in this cold!
We take a few kids on errands, and that is fun. Greta, Mickey and Steve actually like to go grocery shopping, so they do that. I take a couple kids to Starbucks or the bookstore sometimes, and yeah we have played in the one inch of crunchy bad snow a couple times. But mostly, we are inside and grateful. I am not obsessed with spring and its muddy tricks and viruses. Summer will be awesome, but spring in Michigan is pretty much a week in May. Maybe Ill change my tune in a few weeks but for now? Its all pretty decent.
Mommy's new drug
I suck so bad, I am SO sorry I haven't blogged!
Anyways, where did I leave ya hanging? Oh yes--coo-coo psycho Mom and her meds or therapists or whatnot. Well, I took the easy way out--some losers might say--and got on a nice little pill called Effexor. 75mg, twice a day, if you must know.
at first, I felt shaky, nauseous, and like I told anyone who would listen, as if my very blood was menthol. Seriously, it wasn't a chill so much as a refreshing, albeit artificial, sense of freshness and new-ness. I felt like I had gotten a blood transfusion, and I felt a distinct lack of ANXIETY. Perfectly fine by me, as it so happens, gripping onto your own arms and pacing in the kitchen is completely scary for your children to witness and does not do wonders for the household vibes, the skin, or anything whatsoever.
So, there was me, kind of dizzy, with my minty blood (I swear to you I could feel every vein's whereabouts in my body--there is a very long one that goes from the backs of your arms down and around to your pinkie) and my lack of anxiety, kind of not hungry but needing to nibble on food so as not to puke and it was very weird.
Then I realized that I was no longer afraid to watch certain movies/tv shows, nor was I ruining almost every evening with Steve by covering my eyes and yelling TURN IT OFF! to almost everything we tried to watch. (Before this medicine, I couldn't bear the stress of watching anything beyond a nature show --if there was no killing--or maybe a home makeover show--if there was no surprise factor) I also couldn't bear to watch any tv or movie that contained (or threatened to contain:
Socially awkward situations (Borat would be an extreme example)
Pranks
Bloopers
Injuries
Violence
Sadness
Illness
War
Injustice
Cruel Comedy
and of course, anything just flat out "chick-flick" fare like "My Mom has cancer" or "My baby died" or "My marriage fell apart" or "My sister hates me now" or "My best friend betrayed me"
So, all of a sudden, Im miss fun wife, watching Comedians and Snoop Dogg and stuff involving Seth Rogan. All of a sudden, like in week 3, I am just CLOSER to "myself". I am open and available to my children, my husband, reality. Hiding under a quilt literally and figuratively no longer seems desirable. Honest communication doesn't top my list of dreads anymore. I am no longer the walking manifestation of Fear anymore.
Cool! I am also now, in maybe week 5? not feeling mentholated blood or dizzyness. My appetite is pretty normal although I am losing a little weight from not eating so much comfort-carbs, and my sleep, when the babies let me, is really fun! I have these amazing dreams where I am so sexy fun and cool, and the feeling lasts all morning. I don't know who I think I am in these dreams, but I jet set and I rock and roll and I get into adventures with interesting people and its quite fun!
The downsides to effexor, for me, right now, are minimal. I know full well that it is one that can be a horrible nightmare to stop taking, but as I do not plan to anytime soon, that is okay. One time I missed my dose by several hours and I felt myself getting very bitchy and edgy, and that was about it. Also, one time I tried to have a mom breakfast of a cup of coffee or three and I really did almost puke. I had to jam down a sandwhich and then I was fine.
There can be sexual side effects and without getting too grody or graphic, I have noticed that it can take a bit more effort to get into it but overall sex is still lovely fantasmic ding ding ding hooray! Ok I struggled with that sentence for like 5 minutes so Im leaving it as is : )
So that is it for the meds. I am not going to a shrink at this time.
Anyways, where did I leave ya hanging? Oh yes--coo-coo psycho Mom and her meds or therapists or whatnot. Well, I took the easy way out--some losers might say--and got on a nice little pill called Effexor. 75mg, twice a day, if you must know.
at first, I felt shaky, nauseous, and like I told anyone who would listen, as if my very blood was menthol. Seriously, it wasn't a chill so much as a refreshing, albeit artificial, sense of freshness and new-ness. I felt like I had gotten a blood transfusion, and I felt a distinct lack of ANXIETY. Perfectly fine by me, as it so happens, gripping onto your own arms and pacing in the kitchen is completely scary for your children to witness and does not do wonders for the household vibes, the skin, or anything whatsoever.
So, there was me, kind of dizzy, with my minty blood (I swear to you I could feel every vein's whereabouts in my body--there is a very long one that goes from the backs of your arms down and around to your pinkie) and my lack of anxiety, kind of not hungry but needing to nibble on food so as not to puke and it was very weird.
Then I realized that I was no longer afraid to watch certain movies/tv shows, nor was I ruining almost every evening with Steve by covering my eyes and yelling TURN IT OFF! to almost everything we tried to watch. (Before this medicine, I couldn't bear the stress of watching anything beyond a nature show --if there was no killing--or maybe a home makeover show--if there was no surprise factor) I also couldn't bear to watch any tv or movie that contained (or threatened to contain:
Socially awkward situations (Borat would be an extreme example)
Pranks
Bloopers
Injuries
Violence
Sadness
Illness
War
Injustice
Cruel Comedy
and of course, anything just flat out "chick-flick" fare like "My Mom has cancer" or "My baby died" or "My marriage fell apart" or "My sister hates me now" or "My best friend betrayed me"
So, all of a sudden, Im miss fun wife, watching Comedians and Snoop Dogg and stuff involving Seth Rogan. All of a sudden, like in week 3, I am just CLOSER to "myself". I am open and available to my children, my husband, reality. Hiding under a quilt literally and figuratively no longer seems desirable. Honest communication doesn't top my list of dreads anymore. I am no longer the walking manifestation of Fear anymore.
Cool! I am also now, in maybe week 5? not feeling mentholated blood or dizzyness. My appetite is pretty normal although I am losing a little weight from not eating so much comfort-carbs, and my sleep, when the babies let me, is really fun! I have these amazing dreams where I am so sexy fun and cool, and the feeling lasts all morning. I don't know who I think I am in these dreams, but I jet set and I rock and roll and I get into adventures with interesting people and its quite fun!
The downsides to effexor, for me, right now, are minimal. I know full well that it is one that can be a horrible nightmare to stop taking, but as I do not plan to anytime soon, that is okay. One time I missed my dose by several hours and I felt myself getting very bitchy and edgy, and that was about it. Also, one time I tried to have a mom breakfast of a cup of coffee or three and I really did almost puke. I had to jam down a sandwhich and then I was fine.
There can be sexual side effects and without getting too grody or graphic, I have noticed that it can take a bit more effort to get into it but overall sex is still lovely fantasmic ding ding ding hooray! Ok I struggled with that sentence for like 5 minutes so Im leaving it as is : )
So that is it for the meds. I am not going to a shrink at this time.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
an oldy about motherhood
My little attempt to wrap my head around the right wing agenda...or something : )
Oldy about socialization
Heres an old post about homeschooled kids and some of the fallacies surrounding the ideas of socialization. Enjoy.
oldy
I am going to be sharing a series of old posts from a while back. Here is one about nursing, nursing more than one baby, extended nursing, etc. Enjoy the musings of the old me : )
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
sigh
So much of this insane story reminded me of the craziness
I went through with my babies 1, 2 and to some extent, 5. Anything to do with hospital care just was so confusing, humiliating scary, abusive, and plain old unnecessarily crude....yes. This stuff happens. Thanks good old Navelgazer for this sad story of reality for too many mothers.
I went through with my babies 1, 2 and to some extent, 5. Anything to do with hospital care just was so confusing, humiliating scary, abusive, and plain old unnecessarily crude....yes. This stuff happens. Thanks good old Navelgazer for this sad story of reality for too many mothers.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
shrink shopping
Feeling somewhat better today...I missed my "pill" (Zoloft) last weekend 2 days in a row and it may have set me off into a bad patch. I felt horribly dour and depressed early in the week, as you read. Anyhow, the kids and I went to a holiday parade in our "Downtown" and it was kind of fun for them, I think they liked it... It was unseasonably warm and we enjoyed just wearing sweaters. I must admit feeling fake and disoriented about Santa and jingle bell dudes and local politicians waving in convertibles with greenery on them...its not even Thanksgiving, its warm out, and my mom is dead. Its kind of like that first car ride with your first baby...that whole "Why are these freaks driving so fast? Who can eat McDonalds on a very special day such as this? Why isnt anyone looking into our car at red lights to see the miracle?"...just seemed rude to have a parade and say yay yay xmas oh yeah woot woot when really, I feel nothing of the sort. I just feel fear and sleepiness and worry.
Can you tell I am struggling to blog? Oh well. Little updates are better than not writing.
I did a depression check on WebMD and it linked me to local shrinks/counselors and whatnot, and I emailed those to myself to call monday. I am not looking forward to finding childcare, going to the new doctor, and them possibly being somehow yucky and then having to start that whole process again. But I guess its worth it. Obviously if I find someone cool or tolerable or even perhaps kind and professional, that'd be fabulous! Also, if he/she starts thinking that homeschooling is bad and wouldnt I like a nice break from the kiddies, that is going to color our whole exchange, so I am hoping for some tolerance on that arena also. Natural parenting, too, whatever that means or if I even "Do" any of "it" anymore, I dont want any eyes rolled about nursing or anything like that. I am sure there are very cool doctors out there, its just the wading through them process that I dont have the strength for. At least not tonight!
Well, here's to me finding a cool psychiatrist or something/someone. I am doing research into lots of different medications and alternative stuff too and hope to get it all going...yeah...right after I sleep for like 4 months zzzzzzzzzz thats all I really truly want. Sleep and quiet.
Can you tell I am struggling to blog? Oh well. Little updates are better than not writing.
I did a depression check on WebMD and it linked me to local shrinks/counselors and whatnot, and I emailed those to myself to call monday. I am not looking forward to finding childcare, going to the new doctor, and them possibly being somehow yucky and then having to start that whole process again. But I guess its worth it. Obviously if I find someone cool or tolerable or even perhaps kind and professional, that'd be fabulous! Also, if he/she starts thinking that homeschooling is bad and wouldnt I like a nice break from the kiddies, that is going to color our whole exchange, so I am hoping for some tolerance on that arena also. Natural parenting, too, whatever that means or if I even "Do" any of "it" anymore, I dont want any eyes rolled about nursing or anything like that. I am sure there are very cool doctors out there, its just the wading through them process that I dont have the strength for. At least not tonight!
Well, here's to me finding a cool psychiatrist or something/someone. I am doing research into lots of different medications and alternative stuff too and hope to get it all going...yeah...right after I sleep for like 4 months zzzzzzzzzz thats all I really truly want. Sleep and quiet.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Still here, still mental
We moved to a teeny little house last winter...and umm it blows. Don't get me wrong, it is cute...because we made it cute. The theory is great, but like so many things in my life, I get hyped up and latch onto websites and pour over library books and my kick was that of small houses as some kind of simple living movement and, in true Joy fashion, I ignored the fact that all this stuff is written by single old ladies or childless couples or maybe sometimes a family with like one kid. It all photographs so well, you know : )
Well, so we need to move. We are literally gathered 'round a shabby little rug in the front room as our ONLY living space. Try to imagine say, a dentist's waiting room with your five kids. Theres some Duplos on the floor, and ummmm well, hope you like Duplos! Its the pits. We tried and tried and spent a good deal of money on "solutions"--oh yes we heeded the siren's call of clever organizers, upwards storage, loft beds, bunk beds, closet systems, and nope. Still sucks. I know most of the world lives in huts, but for the rent we pay, we are not making a wise choice staying here literally falling over each other.
So, I try to go back to the drawing board--where do actual homeschooling families live? Where do actual families of seven live? Not mopey artists, not never-home 2 income families, but us. What works? How can I "Go confidently in the direction of my dreams/Live the life I've imagined"? When I have failed so many times to be realistic?
Bringing the kids along to these go-sees helps. Let them run and scream and see if it is intolerable even when there is nothing but wide open spaces. Do not go alone to house-hunting appointments, and no taking one mature calm 12 year old doesn't count either. Must bring the loonies.
Do we want a farm or something downtown? We have looked at (and loved) both in the past week. All of us except Mickey. He hates moving and wont barely speak to us about it.
This is what is taking up some of our time lately. Otherwise, I am struggling staying afloat of my depression and anxiety. I have done ALOT of research into new medications and dont get to see my doctor until December 4th. I have learned alot about BiPolar disorder, depression, post partum depression, post traumatic stress disorder, mood swings, and although I want to "get all into" grief and loss, (har har) I cannot do it right now, not while I am the sole caretaker for these five kids. Its bad enough just trying to be a good role model and decent mother when I am feeling so anti social, vulnerable, upset, and so extremely sluggish most of the day. So I am a bitch sometimes and they are all staring at me in the tiny house and its pretty miserable.
It was brought to my attention from a very thoughtful and well meaning old friend that I was starting the "Medication/Moving/Put The Kids In School Dance again", and while the point was well taken, and it did catch me off guard and make me think....like so much of everything, it just kind of made me feel worse.
I just dont have a novel approach, but I keep on trying! Really,all I can say to ALL the mothers struggling is to keep on trying. Try what you know, try something new. Listen to your kids, listen to reason. Listen to your heart, but if your "heart" is only a black ache eternally pounding you suck, you suck, you suck, you blew it, you blew it, you blew it, theres no fixing any of this, its all over, you fail, you failed as a mother as a person as a wife as a super sparkle star you let everyone down all day everyday you suck suck suck suck...then do NOT listen to that. Just try really hard not to be mean, get more sleep, and do not be discouraged from getting professional help including medicine!!!!
I don't know what to tell you about our homeschool. To me, it is just horrid. Everything is. A huge, eye-stinging, heart squeezing disappointment. But the kids are ok. Id like to get them a bigger house and a Mom who is stable-er.
I am also very afraid and hating the holidays. It will start off with an awkward sad thanksgiving with widower step dad and go downhill from there. I used to be so into Christmas but this year I can barely choke it down, without Mom and Grandma.
Well, I try to be fun and funny on Facebook, so if you miss my old blurbs and jokes, yes I am on there alot now, but the blog is still really what I care about, just haven't made the time.
Well ya wanted me to blog....: ) sigh
Ill keep everyone updated on the house hunting, we looked at a nice one tonight, actually.
Well, so we need to move. We are literally gathered 'round a shabby little rug in the front room as our ONLY living space. Try to imagine say, a dentist's waiting room with your five kids. Theres some Duplos on the floor, and ummmm well, hope you like Duplos! Its the pits. We tried and tried and spent a good deal of money on "solutions"--oh yes we heeded the siren's call of clever organizers, upwards storage, loft beds, bunk beds, closet systems, and nope. Still sucks. I know most of the world lives in huts, but for the rent we pay, we are not making a wise choice staying here literally falling over each other.
So, I try to go back to the drawing board--where do actual homeschooling families live? Where do actual families of seven live? Not mopey artists, not never-home 2 income families, but us. What works? How can I "Go confidently in the direction of my dreams/Live the life I've imagined"? When I have failed so many times to be realistic?
Bringing the kids along to these go-sees helps. Let them run and scream and see if it is intolerable even when there is nothing but wide open spaces. Do not go alone to house-hunting appointments, and no taking one mature calm 12 year old doesn't count either. Must bring the loonies.
Do we want a farm or something downtown? We have looked at (and loved) both in the past week. All of us except Mickey. He hates moving and wont barely speak to us about it.
This is what is taking up some of our time lately. Otherwise, I am struggling staying afloat of my depression and anxiety. I have done ALOT of research into new medications and dont get to see my doctor until December 4th. I have learned alot about BiPolar disorder, depression, post partum depression, post traumatic stress disorder, mood swings, and although I want to "get all into" grief and loss, (har har) I cannot do it right now, not while I am the sole caretaker for these five kids. Its bad enough just trying to be a good role model and decent mother when I am feeling so anti social, vulnerable, upset, and so extremely sluggish most of the day. So I am a bitch sometimes and they are all staring at me in the tiny house and its pretty miserable.
It was brought to my attention from a very thoughtful and well meaning old friend that I was starting the "Medication/Moving/Put The Kids In School Dance again", and while the point was well taken, and it did catch me off guard and make me think....like so much of everything, it just kind of made me feel worse.
I just dont have a novel approach, but I keep on trying! Really,all I can say to ALL the mothers struggling is to keep on trying. Try what you know, try something new. Listen to your kids, listen to reason. Listen to your heart, but if your "heart" is only a black ache eternally pounding you suck, you suck, you suck, you blew it, you blew it, you blew it, theres no fixing any of this, its all over, you fail, you failed as a mother as a person as a wife as a super sparkle star you let everyone down all day everyday you suck suck suck suck...then do NOT listen to that. Just try really hard not to be mean, get more sleep, and do not be discouraged from getting professional help including medicine!!!!
I don't know what to tell you about our homeschool. To me, it is just horrid. Everything is. A huge, eye-stinging, heart squeezing disappointment. But the kids are ok. Id like to get them a bigger house and a Mom who is stable-er.
I am also very afraid and hating the holidays. It will start off with an awkward sad thanksgiving with widower step dad and go downhill from there. I used to be so into Christmas but this year I can barely choke it down, without Mom and Grandma.
Well, I try to be fun and funny on Facebook, so if you miss my old blurbs and jokes, yes I am on there alot now, but the blog is still really what I care about, just haven't made the time.
Well ya wanted me to blog....: ) sigh
Ill keep everyone updated on the house hunting, we looked at a nice one tonight, actually.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Late October
I have not written in one month!!! I SUCK!
I have been too happy, too sad, too busy, too overwhelmed, too bored....I dunno. But this is my 300th post and so I will just tell you that I have dyed my hair Nuclear Red (by special effects) and I like it. Here is a picture of my new hair, isnt it getting long?
Mostly, though, my laptop computer has been dead and there is no way to get to the old desk-n-chair with all these beebees in this teeny tiny cabin-house-thing (which i love and hate) but now Steve got it running again and I can sneek in a little internet time here and there-- phew!
I love you all I miss the blog world, I have lots to say, just need to re figure out how to STILL eek out a little me-time with five kids.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
**pass this along please! **
This year, the start of National Midwifery Week (Oct. 4-10) has coincided with a particularly unflattering depiction of midwives and home births on The Today Show in which they compared home birth to, among other things, "a spa treatment." The report, which suggested that home birth is an option chosen by women who are merely imitating trendy celebrities, was a great example of shoddy and biased reporting, with a equal parts patriarchal patronizing and emotional exploitation.
At Choices in Childbirth, we believe that women should have all the necessary information to make their own choices about where, how and with whom they give birth. In response to the Today segment, CIC has put together a petition demanding accurate reporting on all birthing options, rather than fear-mongering and fact-free depictions of home birth and midwifery. If you would be interested in signing it, writing about it or passing it along to people in the feminist and birth communities who you know would be interested, I'd be most grateful.
Best regards,
Chloe Angyal
Administrative AssistantChoices in Childbirth
Choices in Childbirth
441 Lexington Ave. 19th Fl.
New York, NY 10017212.983.4122
New York, NY.
At Choices in Childbirth, we believe that women should have all the necessary information to make their own choices about where, how and with whom they give birth. In response to the Today segment, CIC has put together a petition demanding accurate reporting on all birthing options, rather than fear-mongering and fact-free depictions of home birth and midwifery. If you would be interested in signing it, writing about it or passing it along to people in the feminist and birth communities who you know would be interested, I'd be most grateful.
Best regards,
Chloe Angyal
Administrative AssistantChoices in Childbirth
Choices in Childbirth
441 Lexington Ave. 19th Fl.
New York, NY 10017212.983.4122
New York, NY.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Monday
Today was supposed to be the first day of Casey and Charlie's little school. But they woke up around 4 am coughing and snuffling, Casey asking me if he had "The Croups" (no! ). I couldnt send them like that, although the bark was worse than the actual "cold", plus the handouts said no sick kids no fevers, no coughs, etc.
Darn. I hope they can attend next Monday. I hardly slept at all last night, all anxious about it.
So, all five kids have a cold, and we are laying low. Seems a bit early for this stuff, but hey. I was happy to rest today, to be perfectly honest.
I will be the first to admit that I am using Facebook all the time and it makes me think I have blogged. It is lazy and easy and quippy and reaches lots of casual pals whom I would not direct to this blog necessarily. This blog means the WORLD to me and yet I am in a space where I dont have the "fire" about the stuff that I used to. At least not now. Im not all jazzed up about homebirth, I am just sad about stuff like that. Im not all ferociously passionate about homeschooling or able to post any cool links, but eternally grateful for this blessing that homeschooling is and the people my children are free to become. I nurse constantly but feel no desire to protest or rally or do anything militantly Lactivist. Maybe its the anti depressants, making me a safe and neutral blob... or maybe it is my brain protecting me from utter anihilation. Not today. No 24 hour crying jag today. Maybe next time. Some other time.
I am proud of all you birth bloggers and hope that my passions were not cauterized when I got my tubes tied. I actually had that thought when I was laid out on the operating table. I DO care about all that stuff, I just don't have much to say right now.
Hmmm what else is up? My hair is getting really long and I have cut fun little betty-bangs. I still hope to have it way way long and beautiful cobalt blue again and keep it that way. Probably by spring?
The curling club doesnt want/need me back for the bartending position I foolishly assumed was mine for the taking this season. I am really sad about that, but plan to kind of hang around there a little bit so I can weasel my way back into their consciousness? Greta is old enough to do junior curling, but she doesnt like sports very much. We shall see.
Talk to you all soon,
Housefairy/MamaJoy
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