Empty

June 16, 2008

Several of you saw Chas’s comment from Friday’s post, so I’ll give you the short version of what happened.  I posted something earlier Friday telling more about what was happening with me.  Immediately after I hit publish, I realized how much of a pity party it was.  I felt too vulnerable and was already mentally reviewing the kinds of well-meaning comments I would receive.  I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle even your sympathy, so I pulled the post.  It was probably up there all of about five minutes, so Chas was certainly on the ball to catch it at all.

So for the rest of you that missed it, here’s what it was about, minus most of the self-pity.  I’ve been down.  That’s all.  There’s no reason behind it, no family tragedy or great earth-shaking life event to spur it on.  Just out of nowhere, it’s felt like a great task to get out of bed and go through another day of mommying.

This weekend was better, probably because I had M here all day to lean on, but it’s back a bit today.  I’m sure having to change about twelve poopy diapers in the last 24 hours hasn’t helped any.  Worrying about my rambunctious toddler’s first stomach virus, first bouts of diarrhea, first taste of Pedialyte–all of that continues to drain what little I have to give.

It’s just tough, this mommying stuff.  It’s tougher than they (whoever “they” are) let on.  I’m learning that there are days when you aren’t just playing the martyr by giving of yourself until there’s nothing left; you actually ARE the martyr, through no true choice of your own.  And still you keep on giving, because no matter how far you get to the end of your rope, your kids still come first.

I’ll get over this eventually, I’m sure of that.  I never stay down too long when this happens.  Just don’t expect me to write too much about what’s really going on until I’m past this phase.  I’ll probably be sticking to lighter topics in the meantime.


Protected: Some Personal Issues

May 21, 2008

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Why Do I Bother?

May 19, 2008

I wish I had it in me to write a positive post this morning.  I had a pretty good weekend, sneaking in naps both days, going out shopping for a little while, and even making it to church yesterday.  The kids were good, and BabyN is sleeping well again (after three new teeth, and only one more imminent).

Unfortunately, I’m a bit upset about something, something that should be completely under my control.  You see, I feel fat.  I’m really not.  If I revealed my weight, many of you would fight the urge to tell me to shut up because the number itself is pretty enviable.  But on my tiny body, it hangs wrong.  So I look fat.

All those new clothes I got recently?  They aren’t enough to help me fight this awful body image.  Even the ones that are specifically designed to help conceal a post-baby belly aren’t enough to diminish my extra flab.  The only things that will help will be watching what I eat and exercising.

Oh, wait!  I’m already doing that!  I’m eating less than I have since I was early pregnant with BabyN and puking everything I ate.  I’m watching what it is that I eat as well.  In fact, I haven’t eaten this healthy since getting married.  And we’re going for loooong family walks almost every day.  Pushing 70+ pounds of stroller and baby only makes the workout that much more effective.

And still the weight gain continues.  I’m gaining about half a pound every couple of days.  It’s no wonder I’m getting depressed about it.  How can I be working this hard to end up with the opposite result?  I might as well turn back into a couch potato and eat everything I want and as much of it as I can force in.  Then I would have something to blame the weight gain on anyway.  I wouldn’t be working hard for nothing.

Last night, M and I even had a little tiff because I felt super awful in the sexy pajamas I chose to wear to bed, but he couldn’t keep away from me.  While it should have made me feel better that he was so turned on by me, I couldn’t get the image of what I’d just seen in the mirror out of my mind. 

I absolutely HAVE to get this body image problem under control if I can’t control the weight itself; it’s starting to affect my normal life.  But I don’t know what to do about that.  I guess venting about it is a start.  And maybe M will have some ideas for me too.


Attack of the Allergies

May 17, 2008

Yay!  BabyN let me sleep through the night!  He didn’t wake up at all until eight this morning, and then we both fell asleep again until after ten.  Aaah.  Relief.  I’m sure he’s thinking the same thing.

Unfortunately, I woke up to an allergy attack.  My wonderful husband has advised I take a Benadryl (one of the few sneezy meds that I feel comfortable taking while breastfeeding) and go sleep it off this afternoon.  He’ll watch the boys, when they’re awake, during that time.  Shoot, yeah, I’m taking him up on that offer!  As soon as BabyN wakes up, I’m feeding him and then crashing myself.

By the way, speaking of breastfeeding (we were, weren’t we?), several people have mentioned casually to me that they assumed I would be weaning BabyN pretty soon now.  You know, now that he’s getting a mouthful of teeth, I won’t want them that close to such a sensitive area.  Especially since he’s shown sadistic biting tendencies in the past.

I answered those comments both times the same way: No, I’m not planning to wean anytime soon.  If BabyN decides to be stubborn and keep biting even with correction, then I may be forced to.  But I’m not planning to wean him until he’s at least a year old, and hopefully we can make it long past then.  I don’t feel like it is anywhere near time for that yet, and it’s not going to happen unless he chooses to self-wean or I’m forced to because he’s mutilating my chest (which by the way, he’s gotten much better about).

Oops, there’s BabyN awake from his nap.  Time to feed him and then take one of my own.  Yay for weekends!


Wherein I Push My Grammatical Limits

May 16, 2008

Where was I yesterday, you ask?  (Okay, I’ll pretend you asked.)  What was I doing that was so interesting it kept me from the computer?

Nothing, actually.  I’m just dog tired.  And talk of sleep and complaints about the lack of it are getting old to me.  And there’s no other coherent thought making its way through my head.  (Although the incoherence might be infinitely more interesting…)

So I just didn’t write anything.  In fact, I probably shouldn’t have today.  I just can’t stay away from here for that long.

But BabyN cut another tooth yesterday morning, so I’m now waiting on just two more before he hopefully starts sleeping better again.  And tomorrow is the weekend, when M gets up early with the boys and lets me sleep late.  And vacation starts in a week.  There is hope after all.

In other news, someone found my blog using a google search term that’s a little too targeted at my blog specifically.  It’s stuff that someone would have to know me in real life to think about searching for.  I’m a little freaked out.  If I suddenly password-protect everything, that’s why.  And if that happens, just e-mail me for the password.


Aha!

April 19, 2008

You may have picked up on the fact that I’ve been a bit tired lately (as if I didn’t mention that a million times in the last post alone).  It’s been as bad as it was when I was pregnant.  I’d wake up eager to go back to sleep, regardless of how late it already was.  I’d drift off anytime I wasn’t actively doing something and was anxious for bed as soon as the boys were in bed.

Last night, I suddenly had the thought to check the label on the allergy medicine I’ve had to take since getting the dog.  Sure enough, in plain English, it said the medicine could cause drowsiness.  Now I feel like a fool for letting myself be miserable for several weeks when I didn’t have to.

I also discovered that this is not the same medicine I thought it was and that this specifically says it is not recommended when you’re breastfeeding.  Oops.  Next time I need to be more careful about what it is I’m taking and not assume that M got the exact same thing that I thought he was getting from the grocery store.  I haven’t noticed any changes in BabyN, so I don’t think it’s a huge deal that I took the medicine anyway.  And it’s not like he’s a newborn completely dependent on my milk for sustenance.  I think he’ll be fine, but I’ll be watching him carefully anyway and might mention something about it to his doctor the next time we see him.

Needless to say, I’m not taking the medicine anymore.  I’m beating myself up for not reading the label first–I ALWAYS do, except for this once.  I’m hoping I didn’t do anything that could end up harming BabyN.

And on the bright side, despite being kind of stuffed up and sneezy today, I’m feeling better than I have in several weeks.  I don’t feel like I need a nap right now.  What a novel feeling.


Dang It

April 15, 2008

Now I’m regretting saying anything at all.  But I still feel like I owe you an explanation, so I’m leaving the post up as much as I’m cringing about it.  And in the meantime, I am making myself not read anything into your comments other than what the words are actually saying.  Let me tell you, that’s harder than you would think.

So in answer to your question, MrsSSG, as far back as I can remember this has been at least somewhat of an issue.  The earliest incident I can recall related to this happened when I was about four.  We were taking a friend home, and when I saw her house, I said something about how ugly her house was.  It was, but that was entirely inappropriate for me to say, especially in front of her.  My mom chastised me for being so inconsiderate because it hurt her feelings.  I was old enough to understand the lesson, and since then I have always been super-sensitive to how other people are reacting to what I say.

Junior high probably finished me off for being that self-conscious.  I know I’ve referenced some issues there in the past.  I was a target of some serious bullying (not that I wouldn’t have bullied me if I was anybody else–I was a prime target), and it took its toll on me.  From then on, I’ve always worried that people who claim to be my friends are going to treat me the way these “friends” did.  It takes a long time for me to feel truly comfortable around new people.

Anyway, I don’t really want to talk about it anymore.  I’m embarassed enough that I ever mentioned it.  It’s really not a big deal, and I’ll continue coping with it the way I always have.  Just understand that if I disappear for a few days, this is probably why.  But I’ll always be back.


I’m Okay

April 14, 2008

I haven’t wanted to say anything about what’s going on because it’s really not interesting and actually kind of embarrassing for me.  But I don’t want anybody to worry about me, so I guess I better fill all of you in.

Long-time readers may remember that I admitted ages ago to being uncomfortable in social situations.  It’s something I’ve fought my whole life, this shyness that goes far beyond your typical shyness.  College and the few years of teaching that followed it somehow forced it into a far corner of my personality, enough that I thought it was gone forever.

But essentially being on bedrest during most of the pregnancy with PJ and moving to a new area where I knew no one pulled the problem back out of hiding.  I rarely interacted with people, so I lost the ability to do so as well as I used to be able to do.  Fortunately, I haven’t needed to do too much socially without my husband or my children to direct the social interactions.  They’ve been my crutch, and I’ve been quite happy using them as such.  That is the main reason I don’t go anywhere without them.

But that’s not really the point right now.  Up until recently, I’ve felt socially free on the web, blogging about anything and everything without worry about what I’ve said or how it’s being taken.  Lately, however, even my blogging has been affected by my social issues.  I feel like everything I write is stupid and that I’m being judged for what I’m saying and how I’m saying it.  If I don’t get comments, then I assume you’re all rolling your eyes at me and that what I’ve written doesn’t warrant a response.  If I get a comment, then I always read it as though you have a condescending tone and are rolling your eyes while you write it.

I know none of that is true, but I can’t keep the hint of paranoia out of my blogging interactions right now.  It’s been particularly bad when I leave comments for people.  As soon as I hit “publish” on any comment, I immediately regret it.  It’s the stupidest thing I could have written for the stuation and both the author, whom I know, and her other blog friends, whom I don’t know, are going to read that stupid comment and see how stupid I really am and how badly I interact with people.  That’s the real reason I rarely comment on blogs; consider yourself lucky if I’ve EVER commented on your blog, much less regularly.

It’s actually been a little freeing lately, giving myself a break from all the social worries.  I’ve been reading as always, but I haven’t had one issue over the last few days where I was afraid people were thinking badly of me since I hadn’t written anything new that could be judged.  I saw posts where I probably needed to leave a comment, but I didn’t.  I didn’t feel bad about not leaving one either, as I’d already notified anyone who reads my blog that I wouldn’t.  It was nice.  I like not feeling that pressure to interact when I knew I would just worry about whether my responses were appropriate.

Anyway, I’m rambling now.  I think (hope) I answered those questions about why I took a few days off.  This is simply an explanation; please don’t think I said anything to get pity or sympathy out of you.  I’ll probably continue in my blog silence for a few more days until I’m starting to feel a little better about it all again.

And now I desperately need to go start baking M’s birthday cake.  Can you believe my hubby turns 27 today?


Not Really About Elmer Fudd

April 9, 2008

My adorable husband has this theory.  He thinks that any song can sound hilarious if you sing it in an Elmer Fudd voice.  In fact, he proves this theory for me on a regular basis as he finds even funnier songs to sing for me in his best Elmer Fudd impression.  Our top two right now are the MacBook song (“There’s a new world…lalalalalalalalalalalalala”) and “Low, Low, Low” (PJ’s favorite song–really–we’re such bad parents).  Try it for me right now.  Sing what you know of each song with your best Elmer Fudd voice.  “Thew’s a new would….wawawawawawawawa.”  Laughing yet?  I am trying to figure out how to type them!

This randomly occurred to me yesterday at the end of this crazy long train of thought, and as often happens when I end up on some random topic, I tried to trace it back to the beginning.  And just because it’s so weird, I have to trace it for you too.

It started when I was thinking how I spent all of yesterday basically incapacitated from a headache.  It was a stupid headache, even if it was pretty bad.  I have a pretty high pain tolerance–I like to think anyway–but I let such silly things turn into huge events in my life.  The reason is that I’m a bit of a hypochondriac.  The reasons go all the way back to a traumatic bullying incident in junior high, but that’s neither here nor there.

I tend to keep my hypochondriac tendencies buried deep in the closet so that even M didn’t hear about them until fairly recently.  But the truth is that when I start to feel a little sick, I begin to wonder if a headache isn’t just a headache.  Yesterday’s was probably a migraine or a sinus headache, nothing exciting, but that didn’t keep me from thinking the words “brain aneurysm” and “brain tumor.”  (You can’t blame me after hearing Erica’s story this week.)  I was able to convince myself it was just a headache after all, but it wasn’t easy.  In my own head, if it looks like a duck, acts like a duck, and sounds like a duck, it must be a flying pig.

I know there are probably all sorts of psychological issues there, but that’s not the point today, oddly enough.

Anyway, when I finally admitted this problem to M, we turned it into a big joke.  Now anytime I complain about something, I laugh at myself and say, “It must be a tumor.”  He laughs and answers in his best Arnold voice, “It’s not a tumor.”  I guess he says that in some movie or something.  I wouldn’t know; I’m not really an Arnold fan.

So from there, I started thinking about how much M quotes from movies.  It’s become so commonplace for me, so much a part of our daily conversations, that I don’t even think about it very often.

Actually, he also slips into all sorts of goofy voices all the time as well.  He’s pretty good at imitating all sorts of voices and accents.  I also don’t tend to notice them (unless it’s an ethnic voice and there’s somebody of that ethnicity who might be within earshot).

So that got me thinking about my favorite voice he does, which must be Elmer Fudd.

See?  Not as convoluted as you would have thought.  But I’d had caffeine to help the headache last night, so that should explain the clearly racing thoughts that brought us to Elmer Fudd.


A Headachey Day

April 8, 2008

Sorry, nothing insightful or inspired today.  Complete sentences are miraculous.  I’m fighting off the worst headache of my life.  It’s better enough now that I was able to eat some breakfast (at 2:30 this afternoon) and shower and can actually look at a computer screen long enough to type a short something.  I’m willing to bet it’s sinus related, but that doesn’t help matters as I can’t take anything to help it.  Other than the fact that I’m still not positive anything I eat is staying down, most sinus medicines either knock me out or make me so loopy that I’m not good for much of anything.  Oh, and I’m hesitant to take anything that I’m not sure won’t negatively affect BabyN.  So instead I’m just whining about my headache.

Really, I’ve been pretty good about it.  Neither child or the dog has suffered from it; I’ve still done all my normal mom duties, even when it was a major struggle to do so.  But when BabyN goes back down for a nap in a few minutes, I think I’m going to try to doze off as well.  I can’t feel it if I’m sleeping, right?  Let’s hope PJ stays asleep long enough for me to catch my 40 winks.  And that tomorrow I’m all better and can write something worth reading.