18.5 weeks and counting

I suppose I could have settled for just "18 weeks" in the title but why would I do that?  I'm going to count every second of every day I've bypassed with this pregnancy.  It's a great accomplishment, yes?

Anyhow....thought I'd post a few more pics.  For posterity (and curiosity's) sake.  No worries, the dirty mirrors are also part of it.  These types of things MUST be documented for future generations.

 
And, also for posterity's sake, proof that I do actually shower and get dressed every once in a while (despite what MOST of my children's memories will most likely recall someday).

 P.S.  Ultrasound coming SOON!  I'd tell you when, but I don't want to.  :)  Yep, I'm that mean.
 

Incredible(-y stupid) Mom moment

Every once in a while I have an amazing Mom moment.  You know...the ones when the stars all seem to align and you come up with something brilliant to either say or do to make the world a better place...or at least put your children in their place.  Yeah...I like those moments.

But...more often than not, and sometimes in rapid succession, I have Mom moments of a "not so brilliant" nature.  Kinda on the stupid side.

Like today...when I made Little Red a peanut butter sandwich (yeay...for freedom from peanut allergies)...WITH jam.  Little Red HATES jam.  Or so he says (although I don't believe him). 

I know it...he knows it...we both know it. 

And I did it anyway...knowing he would throw a huge hissy fit. 


And...

this is where the "stupid" comes in...

I had the "who knows what" to get angry with him when he got upset about it.  Yeah...like I was really mad....as if I couldn't believe what was happening.

What????

Like I said....not one of my most "brilliant" moments.

H.E.L.L.O! 

But...lucky for me, it all worked out in the end.  I hoped it would.

He did eat it...eventually.  And even liked it, saying "It's sort of good" (which in Little Red language means, "this is actually really good I just don't want to admit it because I'm too stubborn.").

I'm sure the reward of a handful of Heath Bar Baking Bits hanging over his head, with a threat that he would not get any if he didn't eat the sandwich "all gone", had something to do with it.

Maybe next time I will channel my limited brain power toward something a  little less antagonistic.

Bad mommy......bad.....bad...


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"Here is some bad things I do not like about my mom"

Excerpt from G-McBabe's journal (written today--I know...I shouldn't be peeking):

Sunday
Here is some bad things I do not like about my mom.
1.  she makes me get off the computer right when the timer goes off
2.  you never know when she is going to yell.

Funny?....sort of.

For the "full story" and how it links to depression, come on over to my other blog...Methodical Musings of an Unbalanced Woman.

I'm just too lazy to type it up twice (or copy and paste it for that matter).
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"I'm the dad and you're the Father and you're the brother"

 I was just in the hall, changing a rancid poopy diaper when I overheard my 5 year old (little red) playing in his room with two neighbor boys.

"Let's play Mommy and Daddy," a neighbor says.

Okay...this could be interesting.

"No...let's play Daddy and Father," red says, "...oh, and you be the brother," he tells the three year old neighbor.

"Okay," they say.

You see...at our house...there are no females to play the "mommy."

The game continues...."Okay, let's go to sleep."  "Cockadoodledoo...time to get up."

"What does a father do?" one of the neighbor boys asks.

"I don't know," little red says.  "Well,  where is the mommy?" neighbor boy says."  "She's dead," informs my son.  "Oh...."

"Let's go shopping," red says.  "Okay."

then my 4 year old want to join in...."I wanna go shopping to."  "Okay...you can be another brother."

Yep...that's how it is in our house.  Boys, boys, boys....and mom's dead (or at least on the computer writing so much she might as well be so...he he he).

Now they are singing "Happy Birthday" and there is a horse involved somehow.  My how life evolves in just a few seconds.

Just thought it was funny.

Melanie

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My very existence in one word..."poop"

I'm frustrated.  I grab the phone and go outside.  Mail...I'll check the mail.  That's what I'll do.  Just get me out of here.
When I'm done I sit on the front lawn and call Rob at work.
"How are you?"  he says.
"Frustrated."
"Why?"
"I have wiped bums over 40 times today and  ___________ (we will call him child XYZ) has pooped in his pants three times in the last 45 minutes.  I swear, I'm gonna scream." 

"So what are you gonna do?" 

"I told him he had to put on a pull up and would have to pay me for every one of them he poops in.  And...HE'S UPSET with me because I wont let him go outside and jump on the trampoline (do you blame me?...visions of poop...eveRYwhere)."

Just then another child comes out and says, "Mom...I have to go poop."

Rob starts laughing. CASE. IN. POINT!

Can we say probiotics....HELLO! (which I have already administered)

If only that was that.

While I am sitting here typing child XYZ comes in from playing outside and says, "Mom, were you REALLY serious about me having to pay you for the pull-ups?"

"DID YOU POOP IN YOUR PANTS AGAIN!?!?"

"Yes."  

ARRRRGGGGGGGG!!!!

I put him on a potty time out.  "Just stay there for a while,"  I said.

Seriously. 

I'm leaving for an undisclosed amount of time as soon as Rob gets home.

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Finding joy in a sparkling john

In an effort to find happiness in the ever recurring, mundane tasks of motherhood, I have started a monumental task of focusing on "little successes" for my sense of daily accomplishment and validity.

Some days I feel good about myself because I get in a workout, other days, for sitting long enough to read a book to my kids, and on other days, just surviving until bedtime without too many tears.


I often ask myself, "What do I need to do today in order to feel worthwhile and successful (like there's an actual purpose to my existence)?"

Today...it was taking a scrub brush (and chisel) to the disgusting-ness that was the kids bathroom (man...it's been a while...remember?).

It took a little elbow grease but i finally got all the fuzz (aka nasty mold from our disgusting local water) out of the john.

(I'm exaggerating, of course...the fuzz actually comes off fairly easily.)

I just love it when my toilet is sparkly.  :)  Makes me all giddy happy!



The kids and I left the house for a few hours and came home to the permeating scent of Lysol and toilet bowl cleaner.

I took a deep breath....ahhhh.....the smell of success!

I love it!


What kinds of "little things" make you  feel worthwhile and happy? 


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When it hits the fan...it hits the fan

I knew I was supposed to be doing something...I just couldn't remember what.

I was on the phone with my sister when Husband calls...and calls...and calls. ("Maybe I should answer that.")

It finally dawns on me...I was supposed to run some cash out to him at work.

Crap.

I pick up the phone, "I'm coming."......."Do you remember what else I was going to do while I was out?"

He rattles off my to do list:

*trip to drug store ("list is on the counter"),
*trip to red and white bullseye place for Rx's,
*trip to neighboring city to drop off a bike at bike shop (30 min drive BOTH WAYS)!

I look at the clock...It's 11:30AM.

Double crap...

"I'm so not going to make it home before nap time."

Sigh...

It's a mad rush to get ready to leave.

I start preparing lunch on the go (more economical, you know)...yell for Little Red and Mini Rob to "go potty and get shoes on"... Mr. Golden Locks is still in his jammies...heck, I'm still in my jammies...gotta get the bike in the car...don't forget the coupons... 

I'm feeling a little frantic at this point.  So much to do.

(Thank goodness for therapy!)

I try calming myself using some anxiety relieving techniques (inhale slowly 1,2,3,4...exhale slowly 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8...inhale slowly 1,2,3,4...exhale slowly 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8...you get the idea).

"Mom!," I hear from the other room.

I continue to peel carrots while going over the checklist again in my head.

"MOM!" 

Yeah...still peeling carrots...lost in my own thoughts.

Finally,  "MOM!  MOM!  MOM! MOM!"

"WHAT?!?!?," I yell.

"[MR. GOLDEN LOCKS] THREW YOUR KEYS IN THE TOILET."

(goodbye new found calm feeling)

Carrots forgotten I RUN (literally) to the bathroom.

My worst fears are confirmed....my keys are in the toilet...so is Mini Rob's urine...and two or more weeks worth of bacteria (yeah, I've been meaning to get to that.)   UGH!

(Have I mentioned I'm a semi recovered OCD-ish germ-a-phoebe.)

Not good...not good at all.

I order the kids out...and ask Little Red to assist Mr. Golden Locks in the detoxification process (hand sanitizer).

I grab the keys out of the toilet and throw them in the bathroom sink.  I begin the first of several wash cycles (with anti-bacterial soap, of course) while alternating between panic and self-control in my head ("sick, disgusting, I will never be able to touch them again"... "get a hold of yourself, calm down, you will clean them well, you will move on, and you will be okay (positive self reinforcement...ya know)).

While in this back and forth debate with myself (between the OCD and the sane Melanie) I forget what I am doing (other than white knuckle scrubbing these keys)...there are soap suds everywhere.

Little Red comes back into the bathroom, takes a look and says "Mom...your wasting water."

I swear I could have shot lasers out of my eyes just then.  Instead I had to settle for "the evil eye" and "the nostril flare."

"What?", he says casually.

AAARRRGGGHHH....

Once I finally got control of myself (and the sane Melanie won out), I did pretty good.

I cut off a fabric key chain that was soaked in toilet water (who needs it anyways), bathed them in Clorox Clean-up (literally), and washed them again (all that you ask?  Yeah...and that's the SANE Melanie)

Deep breath...Done!

Until...


Husband calls..."Are you coming?"

Sigh....

Forget economical...we're going to McDonald's!

UPDATE:  I also ended up skipping the trip to the bike shop after I took the wrong freeway exit.  A woman can only take so much in one day.


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Picking noses and picking battles...

Motherhood is often about picking noses and picking battles.

The kids pick their noses (and eat it) and I pick the battles.

Outdoor play time...for my boys...is a MUST.  I will fight it to the death (figuratively, of course).

It is my experience that little monkeys quickly become giant 40ft prehistoric apes that climb up the Empire States Building (or my walls)  when they have been confined to the indoors for an extended period of time.

G-McBabe and I have often skirmished over his dislike of the outdoors and anything associated with it.

He would rather sit inside and read a book (as soon as his video/computer game time is up, of course).

Now, I'm all for reading.  I highly encourage reading.  With G-McBabe, I am in now way worried about his literary well being.

I am, however, worried about his lack of movement and vitamin D absorption.

Some days the battle rages on for what seams like eternity...and some days it's over without incident.

We wave our white flags and form a treaty of sorts.

A few minutes later I look out the window and see this...

Fine by me.

At least he had to walk to get out there.

A calm settles over the household.

Peace reins again.

One more reason to train for a marathon...

I was at Costco today and saw a sign in the back window of someone's car that read...

Marathon Mama

26.2 miles of peace and quiet

So that's it.

Just one more reason to train for a marathon!

Mother's Day 2011

I had a really nice day.  Rob played "super dad" and took care of EVERYTHING!  It was awesome.  All I asked for was a nap after church.  Turns out I didn't need one because Rob let me sleep in until 8:45AM.  I don't remember the last time I felt so well rested.  When I finally woke up I turned on some tunes by Hillary Weeks and heard the song "Who You Are" (here's a fun youtube version) which set a nice tone for the rest of the day.  I was supposed to teach Gospel Doctrine but someone else prepared the lesson too and I didn't have to teach (Happy Mother's Day to me!).  The kids were so darn cute (they each picked out a packet of flower seeds for me), and Roberto cooked some AMAZING pork chops for dinner (recipe here) AND cleaned up.  It was just a really good day.

I couldn't help but compare it to Mother's Day 2 years ago. 

Rob had just finished his Master's degree and we had attended his graduation the day before.  He FINALLY had a job after 9 months of unemployment and we were moving, in just a matter of weeks, to our new home here in the Tri-Cities. 

I should have been happy.  I should have been ECSTATIC (Rob was)! 

But I wasn't.  I was so low.  So utterly low. 

I had hit rock bottom.   

I was miserable...completely lost....without hope....and above all else, a HORRIBLE wife and mother.  You know those commercials that say "depression doesn't just hurt you, it hurts everyone around you?"  I used to balk at that.  Until I realized for myself it was true. 

My husband and children were suffering.  I knew it was bad.  I knew I was "ruining their lives" but I couldn't muster up enough "care" to do anything about it. 

That particular mothers day, I remember crying all day at church (you know, because the celebrate wonderful women/mothers and I certainly was NOT one of those).  I came home (or to Rob's parent's house because that is where we were living) and crying myself to sleep.  I slept for hours and didn't even care that I wasn't spending the day with my children.  It was horrible.  Truly horrible.

I'm so thankful for a Father in Heaven who was watching out for me.  He placed an amazing friend in my path who helped me finally accept what I was going through. She hounded me until I set an appointment with a doctor and checked up on me regularly, offering encouragement and support.

I'm so thankful for my BOYS!  My husband and kids, who definitely saw the worst of it, have stuck with me "through thick and thin" and our relationships are now flourishing, in spite of all the havoc reaped on them.  They are troopers.  That's for certain.  I couldn't have married a better man or been blessed with more resilient children (hopefully there will be not be any long lasting emotional scars).

My extended family was amazing too.  Having no real idea of what was going on (I hid it SO well for so long), they have rallied around me and been a constant support through this recovery process.

I'm thankful for my wonderful doctors and counselor who have not only supported me "chemically" but have lent listening ears and given me tools of "cope" and hope


Depression is SO real.  And it SOOOO stinks.

Despite what I thought, I could not have gotten here on my own.  I needed help.  It wasn't going to go away just because I wanted it to.

I thought I would never again feel the way I do.

I'm happy.  I'm content with my life.  There is hope for my future and the future of my family.  I love and care about my husband and children again.  I want to accomplish things again (Rob doesn't know what to do with me sometimes). 

I still have "low" moments.  I still have "upset and irritated" moments (I mean, really?  I have 4 boys!).  But for now the feeling of hopelessness, bleakness, blinding rage and anger are gone.


When people see me with my kids at the store they often ask,  "How do you do it?"  and I answer truthfully (laughing)...."I'm medicated."  That usually makes them laugh too and I say...."No....really....I'm medicated."

And for now, I'm SO grateful for it.

 

 

If you are suffering from depression or think you might be suffering from depression....don't wait to treat it.  I waited almost 2 years to seek help.  It was NOT worth it.  Here are some symptoms you may recognize.  Don't forget that ANGER/RAGE and ANXIETY can be signs.  It's not just "being sad." 

 

 

 

How was your mother's day?  Did you do anything fun?