Hormones are a crazy thing... they can make us moody, happy, sad, irritable, and a whole lot more! But when they are unbalanced they can me us depressed, put us in menopause, or just really mess up our bodies!
Some say that depression is a state of mind and that drugs are just placebos to make the person feel like they can do something about it. Others believe that it is a chemical imbalance in the brain in which the nerves stop talking to one another. They believe that cannot be controlled, it just happens, and that sometimes drugs are needed to help correct it. And a small few believe it is sin, brought on by something that we didn't repent for.
Depression isn't always what you see on TV. People sitting somberly in a dark room, not wanting to get out of bed, crying all the time, etc... it is also not eating like you used to, not enjoying the things you used (reading a book, watching your children play, Christmas, etc.), attempting to do something, but then losing the motivation to complete it, feeling nothing, not caring and then feeling guilty about not caring or not doing the things you think you should be doing. Depression also causes insomnia - something I have been struggling with for weeks! BUT not necessarily the things on TV. Those are the extreme.
The worst part about depression is that you know something is wrong, but you just don't care, nor do you have the will change it. This week, I was forced to the doctor by my family ... and I am glad that I was. I found out that I am depressed, not crazy :), and that it was OK. I still struggle with the feeling of freakishness because of the stigmata aligned with depression, BUT I am also starting to realize it wasn't something that I could control.
The doctor explained to me that sometimes a depression episode, which I am in/have, is brought on by stress or events in our lives, but that no one can be certain. She informed me that even though I had been trying herbal remedies (St. John's Wart) they work for lesser imbalances (stress induced anxiety, etc) and that is why it hasn't been working. She also explained that it wasn't something I could of prevented... it just sometimes happens, and that it doesn't mean that I "don't feel" things all the time. Her saying that made me feel better. For I have had fleeting moments of joy, and excitement, but nothing like I used to. I laugh with my daughters, I was excited when Sean gave me an early Christmas gift, all true emotions, but then after a few moments they were gone, and I just didn't care anymore... I felt nothing.
Today is the second day on my new meds and I feel like laughing!
Friday, December 21, 2007
Friday, November 16, 2007
Lost and Found
For the past 5 days I have been tearing my house and vehicles apart, no not for a lost toy or binky, but for a lost cell phone.
On Saturday, for a moment of quietiness, Sean and I gave the girls our cell phones to play with. I remember getting it back from them and taking it to the store. I remember it being the car on the way home. But when Tuesday came, it was no where to be found. I scoured the house, turning over documents and drawers. I went through the kids toys, the diaper bags, both cars, and even my laundry, but alias no cell phone. Finally I broke down yesterday and reported my phone Lost and/or Stolen. The phone was suspended and business calls were rerouted through the home line.
And then it happened. Sean opened a bag in the fridge to pull out some meat that I had thrown in there on Saturday after we went to the store and there it was! In the bottom of the meat bag!
I don't think I have ever been so happy to see a piece of machinery! I am a very happy mommy!
On Saturday, for a moment of quietiness, Sean and I gave the girls our cell phones to play with. I remember getting it back from them and taking it to the store. I remember it being the car on the way home. But when Tuesday came, it was no where to be found. I scoured the house, turning over documents and drawers. I went through the kids toys, the diaper bags, both cars, and even my laundry, but alias no cell phone. Finally I broke down yesterday and reported my phone Lost and/or Stolen. The phone was suspended and business calls were rerouted through the home line.
And then it happened. Sean opened a bag in the fridge to pull out some meat that I had thrown in there on Saturday after we went to the store and there it was! In the bottom of the meat bag!
I don't think I have ever been so happy to see a piece of machinery! I am a very happy mommy!
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Tough Love
When I was a child I used to have screaming fits for no reason. 5 hours at time. My poor parents... this week, I came to understand how they must of felt.
Last week my husband was out of town on a business and to my daughters it felt like a century. Rylee was first, she went to bed and awoke an hour later screaming. I went in and soothed her, comforted her, even resorted to giving her a bottle. My attempts were thwarted with pushes, screams and a bottle being thrown at me. Her cries soon escalated to sobs, and then to hysteria. After 40 minutes of hysterics, and my reminders that she was in fact okay, changed, loved, and fed, I attempted yet again to sooth her. My loving attempt was met with a quiet hug (a sigh of relief from me), a shove and scream. It was then the rude reality hit, I am not her father...
After 45 minutes of intermittent sobbing and hysterics I called the next best thing, my mother. As I dial, Rylee did what I thought was unattainable, she went beyond hysterics, into irrational screams of hysteria. When my mom answered it was all I could to hold myself together. Tired and quietly, I said "She doesn't want me." Lovingly, my mom relayed the story of me and my fits. The only thing that worked, she said, was my dad swatting me on the bottom. She said he used to go in and pop me, not hard enough to leave a red mark, but enough to grab my attention, and leave. She said I would sob for 5 minutes and go to sleep. She gently told me that I had two options, pour myself a glass of wine and let Rylee cry it out, or go in and tell her that that was enough. That she needed to go to sleep before she wakes her sister again and pop her on the bottom. 15 minutes later, I decided to try the latter.
Breathing in deep, remembering what my mom said, I went into my daughter's room. At the sight of me the sobs worsened, and Haylee awoke and began climbed her crib crying. I picked up Rylee and popped her once, apparently not hard enough because she got mad. Pushing from my arms, I held on and leaned into Haylee's crib. I soothed Haylee and laid her back into her crib, telling her that mommy had Rylee. I then turned back to Rylee, and like my mother did to me, told her that she was alright and that that was enough and popped her once more on the thigh. She screamed, this time harder than before. I laid her down in the crib, gave her binky, covered her with her blanket and left, feeling utterly horrible.
5 minutes later, she was asleep. She slept the rest of the night.
Tonight was Haylee's turn. Haylee hasn't been sleeping well due to incoming teeth, so I tried to be understanding. At 8:00 pm, she began bouncing in her bed, our warning that she was awake. 5 minutes later cries rang out. I quickly took her in my arms and told her that she was okay, changed her diaper, and realized that I forgotten to give her cold medicine. We quietly walked out into the dark house and got the medicine. I loved on her, turned the heating pad on under her favorite blanket and rocked her. After several minutes her body became heavy, so I stood quietly and set her in the crib. No sooner did I put her down than she let out a blood curdling scream.
I left.
After a couple of minute I reevaluated the evening. I quickly realized that while the "eating with a real fork" training was going better than expected , she didn't get that much in tonight. And I forgot to compensate adequately with the evening snack. So I prepared and gave her a bottle. She chugged. It wasn't long before screams for "Daddy" rang out. Quietly my husband went in, sat with her, rocked with her, and laid her down. He gave her the remains of her discarded bottle and quietly left. Like before, our few minutes of silence were met with screams and hysteria. An hour and a half later I resorted to "the pop."
Breathing deeply, I attempted to fortify myself for what was to come, a loving tap to quiet a restless child. As I arose from the bed, I contemplated what I was going to say to her. As I opened her door I was met with a child who was too tired to soothe herself. Upon picking her up she rubbed her eyes and cried. I repeated what I said to her sister just a few nights before and popped her on the thigh. She sobbed. My heart broke. She refused to be laid down and sat indian style with the binky in one hand, as I laid the blanket across her lap, sobbing as I left.
3 minute later she was asleep.
Last week my husband was out of town on a business and to my daughters it felt like a century. Rylee was first, she went to bed and awoke an hour later screaming. I went in and soothed her, comforted her, even resorted to giving her a bottle. My attempts were thwarted with pushes, screams and a bottle being thrown at me. Her cries soon escalated to sobs, and then to hysteria. After 40 minutes of hysterics, and my reminders that she was in fact okay, changed, loved, and fed, I attempted yet again to sooth her. My loving attempt was met with a quiet hug (a sigh of relief from me), a shove and scream. It was then the rude reality hit, I am not her father...
After 45 minutes of intermittent sobbing and hysterics I called the next best thing, my mother. As I dial, Rylee did what I thought was unattainable, she went beyond hysterics, into irrational screams of hysteria. When my mom answered it was all I could to hold myself together. Tired and quietly, I said "She doesn't want me." Lovingly, my mom relayed the story of me and my fits. The only thing that worked, she said, was my dad swatting me on the bottom. She said he used to go in and pop me, not hard enough to leave a red mark, but enough to grab my attention, and leave. She said I would sob for 5 minutes and go to sleep. She gently told me that I had two options, pour myself a glass of wine and let Rylee cry it out, or go in and tell her that that was enough. That she needed to go to sleep before she wakes her sister again and pop her on the bottom. 15 minutes later, I decided to try the latter.
Breathing in deep, remembering what my mom said, I went into my daughter's room. At the sight of me the sobs worsened, and Haylee awoke and began climbed her crib crying. I picked up Rylee and popped her once, apparently not hard enough because she got mad. Pushing from my arms, I held on and leaned into Haylee's crib. I soothed Haylee and laid her back into her crib, telling her that mommy had Rylee. I then turned back to Rylee, and like my mother did to me, told her that she was alright and that that was enough and popped her once more on the thigh. She screamed, this time harder than before. I laid her down in the crib, gave her binky, covered her with her blanket and left, feeling utterly horrible.
5 minutes later, she was asleep. She slept the rest of the night.
Tonight was Haylee's turn. Haylee hasn't been sleeping well due to incoming teeth, so I tried to be understanding. At 8:00 pm, she began bouncing in her bed, our warning that she was awake. 5 minutes later cries rang out. I quickly took her in my arms and told her that she was okay, changed her diaper, and realized that I forgotten to give her cold medicine. We quietly walked out into the dark house and got the medicine. I loved on her, turned the heating pad on under her favorite blanket and rocked her. After several minutes her body became heavy, so I stood quietly and set her in the crib. No sooner did I put her down than she let out a blood curdling scream.
I left.
After a couple of minute I reevaluated the evening. I quickly realized that while the "eating with a real fork" training was going better than expected , she didn't get that much in tonight. And I forgot to compensate adequately with the evening snack. So I prepared and gave her a bottle. She chugged. It wasn't long before screams for "Daddy" rang out. Quietly my husband went in, sat with her, rocked with her, and laid her down. He gave her the remains of her discarded bottle and quietly left. Like before, our few minutes of silence were met with screams and hysteria. An hour and a half later I resorted to "the pop."
Breathing deeply, I attempted to fortify myself for what was to come, a loving tap to quiet a restless child. As I arose from the bed, I contemplated what I was going to say to her. As I opened her door I was met with a child who was too tired to soothe herself. Upon picking her up she rubbed her eyes and cried. I repeated what I said to her sister just a few nights before and popped her on the thigh. She sobbed. My heart broke. She refused to be laid down and sat indian style with the binky in one hand, as I laid the blanket across her lap, sobbing as I left.
3 minute later she was asleep.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Good Intentions
There comes a point in time where a parent purchases a table for their children to use as their own dinner table, as a place to color, draw, and play with play dough. My girls got one for eating, but they could never grasp the concept of eating at the table, so we decided to make them a big girl room. We pulled out the changing table, and replaced it with their big girl table, moved their amouir to the other side of the room, and put in a bookshelf filled with dolls, books, and toys. On the table I placed their two favorite puzzles, which recently they have love to sit and play with. And then it happened...
A crash. A scream. Silence.
A frozen baby on the floor and the other looking perplexed. The sudden "no climbing" rule became reality. In the silent confusion, I couldn't find her, I couldn't see her. And there on the floor between the table chair and the heater, laid Rylee in a frozen scream. As my mother rushed in to help, I quickly swept up Rylee and began examining her limbs, her head, her body, and then she screamed. Blood spilled out of her mouth. The amount of blood that was coming out of her mouth, now onto her shirt and me, indicated the possibility of missing teeth. Now in the kitchen, I quickly placed a paper towel in her mouth, and all her teeth became visible.
As Haylee danced to the Wiggles, sweetly oblivious as to what was going on, Rylee cried. After a couple of attempts to hold the ice cube rag on her lip, it became evident that the bleeding wasn't going to stop. Handing her over to my Mom, who was much better suited to hold her down, than I at the moment, I ran to get an Earl Grey Tea bag, wet it, and gave it to her to hold on Rylee's lip. A few moment's passed and the blood lessened. That was when I saw it, the blood coming from under her lip. She had bitten through her lip. Adjusting the tea bag to now cover both the top and bottom cuts. After a minute or two the bleeding had stopped, and Rylee stopped crying. I examined the lower hole and saw that her four bottom teeth came up and meet her top two teeth in her bottom lip.
The chairs have now been removed from their table, and sitting lessons began again on smaller safer chairs in the living room.
Even with our good intentions, life happens.
A crash. A scream. Silence.
A frozen baby on the floor and the other looking perplexed. The sudden "no climbing" rule became reality. In the silent confusion, I couldn't find her, I couldn't see her. And there on the floor between the table chair and the heater, laid Rylee in a frozen scream. As my mother rushed in to help, I quickly swept up Rylee and began examining her limbs, her head, her body, and then she screamed. Blood spilled out of her mouth. The amount of blood that was coming out of her mouth, now onto her shirt and me, indicated the possibility of missing teeth. Now in the kitchen, I quickly placed a paper towel in her mouth, and all her teeth became visible.
As Haylee danced to the Wiggles, sweetly oblivious as to what was going on, Rylee cried. After a couple of attempts to hold the ice cube rag on her lip, it became evident that the bleeding wasn't going to stop. Handing her over to my Mom, who was much better suited to hold her down, than I at the moment, I ran to get an Earl Grey Tea bag, wet it, and gave it to her to hold on Rylee's lip. A few moment's passed and the blood lessened. That was when I saw it, the blood coming from under her lip. She had bitten through her lip. Adjusting the tea bag to now cover both the top and bottom cuts. After a minute or two the bleeding had stopped, and Rylee stopped crying. I examined the lower hole and saw that her four bottom teeth came up and meet her top two teeth in her bottom lip.
The chairs have now been removed from their table, and sitting lessons began again on smaller safer chairs in the living room.
Even with our good intentions, life happens.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Sentences
My daughters will be turning 18 month olds in a couple of weeks, and they are not only starting to talk back in a more clear tone, but they are using sentences! My favorites so far are:
"But I want to play."
"I don't want to."
"Hey," Rylee says as she peeks her head around the corner, "I'm ready to go."
"That's silly!"
"Sit down!"
Looking at a barking dog, Rylee holds her finger up to her lips and say "Hush!" and then points at the barking dog!
"Get down!"
"I know! Get down!"
LOL.... and that is just the beginning!
"But I want to play."
"I don't want to."
"Hey," Rylee says as she peeks her head around the corner, "I'm ready to go."
"That's silly!"
"Sit down!"
Looking at a barking dog, Rylee holds her finger up to her lips and say "Hush!" and then points at the barking dog!
"Get down!"
"I know! Get down!"
LOL.... and that is just the beginning!
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
The way They are wired
Children are the center of our universe. They help us see things from a different height. Until that height is inappropriate for little people.
Yesterday I spent my day pulling my two daughters off the back of a chair when they insisted that that they needed to explore the sounds a window makes when you hit it with your hands. Or how far they could lean over the edge of the piano and still reach the lower keys. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't convince my daughters that trying to climb up the bookshelves in the office was not a good thing, or that using the handle on the oven as a lever pull yourself up the front of it wasn't wise. After several mocking "no's" and mocking slaps on the leg (sometimes in conjunction with the no's), I realized I wasn't getting anywhere, but frustrated.
After several frustrating hours of food throwing, dog hitting, and numerous attempts to climb through the window, I called my mother. I soon learned that, kids are just wired that way.
I am not going to survive 2!
Yesterday I spent my day pulling my two daughters off the back of a chair when they insisted that that they needed to explore the sounds a window makes when you hit it with your hands. Or how far they could lean over the edge of the piano and still reach the lower keys.
After several frustrating hours of food throwing, dog hitting, and numerous attempts to climb through the window, I called my mother. I soon learned that, kids are just wired that way.
I am not going to survive 2!
Motherhood --> Womanhood
Today I learned something: being a woman isn't easy. Today I got up, was greeted by my two wonderful girls, kissed my husband and danced to The Wiggles. I later picked up the cluttered, checked to see if there were any crucial emails from work, put my daughter's down for the first nap, sent a couple of emails and got ready for my meeting. After an hour, the girls got up, helped me finish get ready by insisting that their toothbrush had to go into the same drawer mine did, that my nightstand needed to be rearranged by putting the phone somewhere only the pager could fine it and the items in my drawer belonged all over the floor. After 30 minutes of getting them dressed, showing my husband how to do their hair, and prying them off my legs as I tried to grab a pair of socks for shoes that didn't perfectly match my outfit, I left for my meeting. After a too long meeting at work, a quick run to the grocery store for items I forgot over the weekend, I was welcomed home with smiles and "hi"s, my mommy playing with the girls, and a husband ready to go back to work, but patiently and lovingly waiting long enough for me to take a breath.
Like most mom's the rest of the day was basically the same: Naps, Snacks, Work, Phone Calls, Dancing, Laughing, Outings, Playtime, and Bedtime. And if you are lucky, you time.
After today, I can honestly say I have a new perspective on what being a woman is and a new appreciation for single mothers (including my own). A woman, is a woman who can take her crazy out-of-control life, with bills, and animals, and laundry, and children, and so much more and make it work. She might grumble and complain a bit, but in the grand scheme of things, charges on.
A woman is strong, loving, intelligent, hard working, wise, a chef, a homemaker, a lover, a friend, gentle, fair, a mentor, a mother, quiet, emotional, and so much more.
Today, I noticed that I was no longer just a mother enjoying motherhood, but a woman enjoying womanhood. I think I like that better.
Like most mom's the rest of the day was basically the same: Naps, Snacks, Work, Phone Calls, Dancing, Laughing, Outings, Playtime, and Bedtime. And if you are lucky, you time.
After today, I can honestly say I have a new perspective on what being a woman is and a new appreciation for single mothers (including my own). A woman, is a woman who can take her crazy out-of-control life, with bills, and animals, and laundry, and children, and so much more and make it work. She might grumble and complain a bit, but in the grand scheme of things, charges on.
A woman is strong, loving, intelligent, hard working, wise, a chef, a homemaker, a lover, a friend, gentle, fair, a mentor, a mother, quiet, emotional, and so much more.
Today, I noticed that I was no longer just a mother enjoying motherhood, but a woman enjoying womanhood. I think I like that better.
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