Look at the night and it don’t seem so lonely

forgive my neil diamond lyrics as the title of this post– i am currently in a messenger debate with a friend over whether or not Sweet Caroline by Neil Diamond is a good song.  guess what? it is.  a chorus of the bopbopboppppp makes it 100.  don’t @ me.  (is that what the kids say these days?)

on to more pressing matters– i am on a leave of absence from work.  there– plain and simple… no dancing around it- i’ll just put it out there.  life has been increasingly stressful over the past few months– i’ve made difficult decisions i wholeheartedly felt were the right thing… only to have them blow up in my face.  i’ve listened to the hurtful words from some and believed them.  i internalized them… they took control.

i looked at my social media feeds from the days leading up to my “breakdown,” and i could see it coming.  –tweets about feeling like i was unraveling…  guzzling coffee because i couldn’t feed my kids fast food dinner again… or be late on a work assignment.  the hits at work hit hard and broke me down–  the messy house, the exhaustion, the tantrums from the threenager, the meetings at school for my five year old– those became harder to handle.  i was losing strength.

i think… though i can’t be totally sure…. that i basically stopped my OCD medication without meaning to.  the deeper i got into the madness… the more i kept telling myself… “oh you’ve already taken it– don’t take it again… you’ll OD” …or “you can’t be sure– you don’t want serotonin syndrome– best to just skip it tonight…” — eventually i couldn’t determine the days i’d had it or hadn’t had it… i was lying about taking it regularly… though i kept telling myself that i wasn’t lying– i was just being protective.

i am not functional without Prozac.  i have come to terms with it– it is the life i live.  when the postpartum from my daughter became too much to bear– and i felt i couldn’t hold her in my arms because she deserved better than the piece of shit mother she was given… i had to get help.  for months, my life after her birth was the darkest time in my life.  i found the energy to make it to my psychiatrist even when i couldn’t get out of the car.  the office coordinator met me outside, sat down on the ground and talked me through an unbearable moment.  together, my psychiatrist and my therapist…. saved me. they’ve both seen me in my darkest moments.

a few weeks ago the darkness was creeping in again.  some of the most hurtful words of my life were said– lies were told– i stood my ground… at least i tried.  i stood my ground until i couldn’t stand any longer.  i texted my therapist– “i’m not feeling like myself… it’s all too much… everyone deserves better than me…i can’t do it anymore.”  She wanted to see me– I refused.  I needed to finish work that day.  I had to show the world I was okay.

I left work a few hours early and then went home and crumbled.  i impulsively cut my hair because– why the hell not?  i wanted to be different… look different– not be who i am.  things got darker… &  hours later i started vomiting and nearly fainted.  i realized i hadn’t really eaten or drank much all day.  –after some sleep, some water and some more vomiting…i fell asleep on my couch.

the next day i texted my psychiatrist.  i have my psych’s number for emergencies only.  i’ve used it maybe twice in all of the years i’ve been seeing her.  she told me to come in immediately.  my blood pressure was very high– my pulse was very high… and i was inconsolable.  she called my husband to discuss a care plan and i fell backward into the chair collapsing on the arms and relying on them to hold me upright.  i stared out the window and wondered how i was here… again.

when she came back the plan was decided.  i was out of work for 2 weeks at least– with regular check ins for my vitals and mental state.  my appointment tomorrow will determine if i am fit enough to return to work.

every single day of my leave- i have desperately tried to relax… it was hard at first.  my brain was on steroids– i was worried… terrified, anxious, crazy.  i listened to my doctor– i took my medication and things started to become a little more manageable.  i slept… a lot.  mental exhaustion is very real.  i’ve been exhausted for months.  i got a completely new haircut– i attended meetings at my son’s school… i prayed– i watched trash TV– i read …i saw friends i haven’t seen in months.  these moments have felt really good.  i’ve felt more myself– and as a result, i’ve had real moments of being present with my children and enjoying them in these amazing stages in their lives.  i’ve had the complete support of my husband who comes through for me time and time again.  i don’t deserve him but God blessed me with him and he’s rescued me more times than i can count.

so what is the point of this post?  i don’t know.  i just felt the need to write it.  i felt the need to let you know that my thanksgiving turkey and stuffing were delicious and my carrot cake turned out beautifully and was well received… my kids actually smiled in their school pictures– they’re SO smart and the lights of my life… and my husband and i are incredibly in love and he’s perfect… and every other fucking thing that everyone puts on social media.  i let you guys know that all the time if you follow my newsfeed.  but you know what– it’s not all gravy (see what i did there?) all the time.  the turkey may be good but the traveling is taxing.  the kids smiled in their pictures but bitched me out over not making hot dogs for dinner… or threw a tantrum over not getting to eat fruit snacks after school when i barely held it together that day at work.  my husband is my love– but sometimes he pisses me the hell off …and some moments i’m a whole lot to handle for him.  sometimes i call him an asshole and he really hates it– sometimes he treats me like a 3rd child and i scream at him for it.  and sometimes– i smile at you at work and tell you things are fine… i’m just tired.. –but sometimes… things are not fine.  it’s too much …and this time– it caught up with me.

i’m still struggling.  i’m still hurting- and truth be told, i’m terrified to go back to work.  i still don’t feel 100% and keep having crying spells and fits of feeling like a complete failure.  –but i’m better.  i got help.  i’ve had so many texts and calls and visits from good friends who know my heart.  their support- their own strength… their love– continues to help me through this hard time.  God I’ve needed it.  I’ve needed every kind word.. every heartfelt concern… every positive message.  It is SO important to tell the ones you love that you love them.  they NEED to know.  they need to know what you mean to them.  sometimes – they need to know that others see the true person they are when they’re telling themselves that the lies they’ve heard  and the words they’ve suffered from may actually be the truth.

through it all, the people i respect the most have supported me and loved me.  the people that matter– know my heart and love me even if i haven’t felt “normal.”  i am so grateful.

prayers for a positive psychiatric check up tomorrow and strength for the weeks to come.  <3.

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Ain’t no mom shame in my game

Hey friends– it has been a long minute since I’ve updated this thing.  That is unfortunate– but I honestly stay so busy that I keep forgetting what I’m trying to remember not to forget… It’s complicated.  Just this month– every weekend is jam packed with a million different things I have to do and places I have to be.  Mentally, it has been challenging to keep it all together and keep up with everything.  And everyone.  I’ve felt so down about not being able to keep in touch as regularly as I would like with my friends and family.  I think its time for some mindfulness practices in my near future.

With all of that being said- this constant state of chaos has made me extremely forgetful and feeling like I’m lost 24/7.  I know there are important forms I need to fill out, things I have to do, deadlines, etc.. but I feel like it is all an overload and I’m exhausted.  I don’t know where to start so I just don’t.  I’m having permanent “Wal-Mart syndrome.”  Wal-Mart syndrome is my own term I use for ….ADD.  Every time I walk into a Wal Mart there are so many sounds, colors, products, people… I can’t focus on any one thing at once.  My senses absorb every individual item or person at the same time and I can’t focus.  I can’t hold a real conversation, I can’t walk directly to where I want to be… I just stand there– feeling like I’m floating in sea of senses.  It’s too much.  It’s overwhelming.

When life is extremely busy– every day can feel like “Wal-Mart syndrome.”  Important things can be easily forgotten.  Last month my daughter started her new daycare and with a recent move, my son starting school, a new commute, illness, etc.– I was struggling to make it through each day– much less prepare her for a new daycare.  Which brings me to the point of this post: Mom shaming.

Over the summer I was emailed several times to complete this document, that document, review this handbook, this policy, pay this amount of money– then this amount of money …now come in for this appointment and start this day… by her new daycare.  I made the appointments, I filled out the forms (or so I thought) but it always seemed like I was missing something.  I kept getting emails saying I’d forgotten this, forgotten that.  I came down hard on myself.  “Why can’t you just complete a simple document?!” I was would scream at myself internally.  With each “forgotten” task, I felt a pit in my stomach and wanted to cry.  There are never enough hours in a day.  I was giving myself a hard enough time… I didn’t need to hear it from anyone else– but of course, I did.  The woman running the daycare constantly reminded me with every email that I “must have forgotten..” I “must not have had time to…” or “Because you never emailed me back… ”  I accepted her jabs at first, feeling deserving of them.  But after meeting with this individual several times and taking these blows over email and in person, I’d had enough.

The fact is– I love my daughter.  I hadn’t forgotten the important stuff.  I’d let them know about her allergy, I’d gotten a note from her doctor, I’d turned in her medical forms… I showed up to her “meet the teacher date” (even though it was so far ahead of the date she would start that it might not have been worth it… according to the daycare lady) I showed up for her first day with my daughter in a mint green with printed rainbows jumper and a freshly made chalkboard adorned with peppa pig characters announcing her first day at preschool.  So– I forgot to sign a social media form, I forgot to turn in the paperwork before the first day, I didn’t realize they didn’t take credit cards, I stood up to the director when she didn’t want to accommodate my daughter’s allergy.  I was sick of the shaming… and it stopped now.

Often times I believe that we all feel somewhat deserving of a little judgment or ridicule as moms.  I read a study yesterday that said moms get, on average, 32 minutes a day of personal time.  32 minutes … all day.  That’s barely enough time to watch a TV show.  With the chaos that is everyday life… its extremely hard to get it all done– and impossible to have perfection.  I think that this feeling of failure though… perhaps… contributes to why we’re so willing to take the judgment and the jabs.  It’s important to remind ourselves that we’re doing the best we can and we don’t deserve anything less than full support and compassion.

I also think it is important to recognize that many of these “jabs” are quite subtle.  It is very rare that an individual will just come out and say “Why can’t you get our shit straight?”  …right?  They typically smile to your face, give a pitty-filled chuckle and slide a jab in disguised as a “gentle reminder.”  Don’t play nice.  Don’t accept this behavior. You’re better than that and you don’t have to take it.  Call it like you see it.  Stand up for yourself because you didn’t do anything wrong.  Being an imperfect mother striving for perfection is good enough.  Being an imperfect mother trying to make it through each day– is enough.  Forgetting a few forms doesn’t mean I love my daughter less than anyone other kid’s mom in the daycare.  It means, life is hectic– and I forgot.  That’s it.

My husband and I called this woman out on her behavior and she gave a forced apology in front of the director.  My husband and I thanked her for the apology but we did not accept it.  We don’t accept parent-shaming.  Hopefully she will take the time to reflect before speaking to another parent in a condescending way.  We have certainly taken the time to consider the environment we want our baby in, the behavior we’re willing to (or not willing to accept) and will keep working to make sure we do the best for our kids.  As long as we’re doing that… everything is okay.

I hate open letters so I will gladly personalize this and send it to any known offenders.

Dear parents with the sick kid at preschool,

Hello. It’s me. Your overly tired, on-edge, worst nightmare. No, I’m not being dramatic. After you feel my wrath you will know that I am exactly as I claim to be. I will haunt you. When my kid is up at 2 am throwing up his dinner, I will be there to remind you that this is YOUR fault. When my kid starts coughing, crying and screaming at me for trying to give him medicine, you will know about it. When I am the one losing work time, sleep and my sanity– I will find the time to remind you that this all could have been prevented.
I may seem neurotic and crazy but I don’t care anymore. When your kid goes to the hospital with a 105 fever you realize that its perfectly okay to be a little neurotic. A little crazy. It is perfectly okay to blame you if you send your sick child to school. Your actions are selfish. I get not wanting to miss work. I get that it can be inconvenient. However, look at your kid. Your kid needs sleep! You kid’s body needs a fighting chance to get rid of this illness. You shouldn’t want to send them to school.
But, if you do decide to send your sweet, sickly baby to school knowing that they will spread whatever illness they have– you should know that you’re infecting every other little kid in that room. You’re infecting them, their siblings, their parents. Your actions are effecting everyone. You’re causing another parent to lose sleep, miss work and potentially get sick themselves. And if that parent is a little sensitive to their baby’s illnesses to begin with, you’re causing them to lose their minds!
No one wants to watch their kids sniffle, cough, sneeze or deal with a high fever. No one wants their babies to spend the night over the toilet vomiting. Especially the nervous-Nelly mom’s of the world. Watching you tell the teacher that your child is “just tired,” and “warm because it was warm in the car,” gives me rage. You know your child is sick. Own up to your poor decision, turn your child around and walk them back out to the car, drive home and put them in bed. Do it for your kid. Do it for the other kids and for goodness sake DO it for your fellow moms. I promise we will do the same for you.
If you don’t, you can expect me to call you out on it. I’m up to my ears in medicine, thermometers, hand sanitizer, tissues, vitamins and essential oils. What I need is for you to do your job as a parent so we can all get through this season together.

Sincerely,

That crazy mom whose kid was out multiple weeks his first year of preschool due to random illnesses that could have been prevented. (insert middle finger emoji.)

Don’t stop until we stop this.

I don’t want to write this.  I don’t want to say anything about this or acknowledge that it is even a thing that happened or is happening.. but I have to.  It is my responsibility as a mother, a citizen, a person…a human. Yesterday we had another mass shooting in America.  A troubled teenager walked into his former high school and killed 17 people before attempting to blend in with the crowd and escape in Parkland, Florida.  I have to admit, when I got the news alert–I glanced at it quickly but didn’t immediately go to the news.  I didn’t even know if it would be covered.  I said a prayer and moved on with my day.  It seems there are so many “mass shootings” at this point that they aren’t even newsworthy unless they are the “second deadliest” or “fifth deadliest” or have some sort of statistical significance.  This, in itself, is alarming.  There shouldn’t be so many mass shootings that I have grown used to them.  There shouldn’t be any at all.

Yet, here we are.  This is one of many mass shootings in 2018 alone, and we are only in the second month of the year.  Why?  Why is this happening?  I am a lot of things when I hear of another one of these events but I am never shocked.  The shock faded many shootings ago.  For this reason, I am angry.  I am furious that yesterday …mothers and fathers sent their babies to school and they didn’t come home.  I am furious that mothers and fathers have lived in hell every day since losing their babies to senseless gun violence.  I am sick for them.  I am sick for our country.  I am just… sick.

When I took my daughter to bed last night I held her so close.  When she insisted on putting her dolls to sleep, repeatedly, I didn’t get frustrated.  I didn’t raise my voice.  I played with her.  I thanked God that I had this time with her.  I thanked God she was here and she was healthy and happy and playing.  I thanked God that she had no idea what happened yesterday and I prayed that she would NEVER know what that fear is like.  I prayed she would be safe… always.  When I came downstairs and my son was still awake talking to my husband… I started to cry.  I love his voice.  I asked him to cuddle and he held me so tight.  I held him and prayed I’d always have the opportunity to do so. I stared at his face.  He has the shape of my eyes. He has my nose.  He has my feet.  He has his daddy’s ears and eye color.  We made him.  We prayed for him and over him.  I grew him…I birthed him, I held him, I fed him, I loved him from the moment I found out he was with me.  The love I have for my children is deeper than I ever thought I could feel about any person.  They are MY babies.  I made them.  I love them.  I grew them.  They are PRECIOUS.  How DARE someone take someone’s baby from them?  How dare someone steal someone’s heart and soul with a single bullet and not think twice about it. How could he?  How could he do this?

I took my son to school this morning and I could hear him breathing in the back seat.  (mouth breather, poor kid lol) I’d never heard anything more beautiful.  I looked over at the school and all the sweet kids running inside.  One child had a poster board– some project he was turning in that day.  Another was yelling at another kid about messing up the carpool line.  I wanted to take my son’s hand and run for it.  I wanted to drive away and be far away from school. I looked back at him and he was oblivious to every thought.  As he should be. I smiled and asked him what he was most looking forward to today and then I walked him inside.

Now, I sit.  I’ve been reading and googling and trying to find ways I can do something about this …but I can’t do it alone.  I don’t even know where to begin.  All I know is that I cannot sit back quietly while this is happening.  We are BETTER than this.

https://www.ksat.com/news/us-has-the-most-public-mass-shooters-in-the-world-study-shows

Take a look at this study and you’ll learn that we lead the world in mass shootings.  We have 240 million more firearms than the next highest country, India.  Read the information and then TELL me we don’t have a problem.  If you do, you’re lying.

Yes, we need better mental health services.  Yes, we need gun control.  Yes, we need a lot of things.  I am not interested in getting in internet arguments over which we need more.  We need both.  We need LOVE.  We need to be there for our friends, families and neighbors.  We need to support them, love them and help them.  We do NOT need to revoke restrictions on mentally unstable people with firearms.  We NEED gun control.  I don’t care that the NRA funded this politician or that politician– these politicians, that we vote for and expect to do right by us need to get their heads out of their asses and DO something.  Dan Rather (I believe it was him)  pointed out that when ebola was killing people in the masses and could potentially be a threat to us, we took action.  Yet, here we are.  These shooters have taken our children and our parents and our loved ones over, and over and over again and we aren’t doing a damn thing about it.

I don’t care what your stance on guns is.  I don’t care what your political affiliation is.  I literally don’t care AT all.  All I care about is that another parent doesn’t go through this.  The numbers are there.  We have more guns and more mass shootings than any other country.  Do your own research.  I won’t sway you with what I’ve seen.  If guns aren’t the problem…. what do you think is the problem?  WHAT can we do to fix it?

I don’t have all the answers, or any of the answers.  I just know I’m sick of sitting back while this continues to happen.  My babies are out there… I need them.  This HAS to stop.

Please visit the following site and join the cause.  Donate and Volunteer in your area! 
everytown.org

We have to step up.  We have to be the change.  Prayer is a beautiful, wonderful, powerful thing but we also need ACTION.  How many more lives will it take for us to change this?

Wegreeco Reusable Pads: Review!

Hello friends.  I’ve decided to extend my obvious talents (bahahah) into the youtube world.  I recently made a purchase for reusable pads… I know, glamorous right?  Anyway, I really liked them so much that I decided to tell the world about them.  I think that when you think about bleeding onto a cloth rather than a tampon or pad… it can feel a little weird and out there.  I know I felt that way.  However, I had to find another way to manage my monthly cycle! Tampons and Pads were REALLY irritating me.  And yes, I know that’s a bit of an overshare… but whatever.  I think I can talk about vaginas in my own blog.  Long story short– pads/tampons were making my vagina angry… so …I searched for other options.

Like most of us I went to Amazon (I love you Amazon, please never leave me) and searched many different brands of reusable pads and finally settled on Wegreeco.  I am so glad I made this decision.  So far, I am thrilled with my choice.  I’ve used them and they were very absorbent, leak free and exactly what I needed.  Post-period, my vagina was fine! Such a relief.  I don’t know what exactly is in tampons and pads that was making my body react …but when I realized I was reacting, I knew I needed a better option.  Thankfully this one is better for my body, my bank account and the environment. WIN WIN WIN!

I’m going to give the menstrual cup a try soon… I’m a little nervous. I’ve seen a few buzzfeeds and read some reviews… but this seems like a better option for events/vacations.  We’ll see.  Stay tuned.  Comment below with your favorite reusable feminine products — or any product for that matter.  I’m always up for trying new stuff!

 

Daily rundown… It’s like a newsfeed of my day.

Hello friends.  Recently I’ve been unemployed, again.  This is actually really difficult for me considering I’ve been employed since I was 16 (with the exception of some time at college where I couldn’t find a job in my tiny town  and then for about a month when I got laid off last June).  I personally LOVE to work.  I need something to occupy my mind!  When I sit around with nothing to do… things get crazy, quick.

Let me give you a little run down of my day:

-Woke up at 5 am to realize there was a 2 hour delay for the schools because of invisible snow.
-Got my kids up and made them breakfast (aka took the top off the yogurt and gave them spoons) and got them dressed.
-Made lunches.  (That is SUCH an ordeal.)
-Drove my son to school and made sure to park on the street to walk him in because God forbid I drive AROUND the parents in the carpool lane again…
-Went to Starbucks and got a coffee + egg wrap
Came home, watched Shameless.
-Played 15 levels of Candy Crush, winning each of them on the first try.  (I know, unbelievable.  You’re probably thinking it is a waste of time but those candies aren’t going to crush themselves)
-Put lemon, peppermint and lemongrass in my diffuser because I smell a smell.
-Walked to the kitchen to clean but then remembered I desperately needed to create a new email address that is shorter.  I’m tired of saying my whole name when people ask.
-Watched another episode of Shameless.
-Texted my husband to let him know about my Candy Crush victories.
-Texted my best friend in the UK to ask her to adopt me so I can get the hell out of this country and we could start a baller youtube channel.
-Discussed, surprisingly for the second time this week, whether or not Cast Away was a good movie.
-It’s not. (Tom Hanks is always amazing though.)
-And now, here I am.  My stomach is growling, my house is a wreck but I got my new email address!

I need a job. 

 

Knowing when to stop

stopsign(does anyone else instinctively stop at this sign?)

Me: “hey…do you ever stop at the signs that are warning you that a stop sign is coming up?”

him: “no…I only stop at stop signs.”

Me: “I always stop at those for some reason… hahaha…its weird.”

him: “I think that shows that you’re in your head and not paying attention.”

me: “No, I think it shows that I’m super attentive. Like not only am I stopping at the stop sign but I’m stopping at the warning stop sign.”

him: “It’s not even the same shape!  Its not a stop sign! You aren’t paying attention… you’re in your head”

me: “but I think I am paying attention… like you have to be SUPER attentive to see the little stop sign in the sign and stop there and at the stop sign.”

him: “no! its NOT a stop sign! you’re definitely not paying attention..”

me: “yeah but I mean, I am.”

him: ::wanting to rip his hair out::

me: ::laughing:: this will probably be a whole section in Jack’s book one day… titled, “I Never Had a Chance”

Us: haaaahahahaha.