Tears June 29, 2007

I don’t know that I have the words needed to fully describe what’s going on, but I’m going to try. I’ve been avoiding blogging about this, but this blog is my outlet and I haven’t used it as such in a long time. It’s high time for some blogging therapy.

Those of you who have been reading for awhile know that I suffer from depression. NOT the blues that a lot of women feel, so they go get on medicine. This is bad stuff. I’ve been on medicine for 5 1/2 years. Most of the time it helped. We all know that after Squeaks was born, no drugs were keeping me from Post Partum. But I battle through it. It was not easy and I came out a broken person, but I survived. For about a year, I’ve been much better. But now this depression has become a front runner in my life, once again.

I honestly don’t know what started it. I’ve had no major life-changing events, nothing that should be making me depressed. But it’s back. For the past few weeks I’ve been walking around as an empty shell of what I used to be. I’ve spent most of my days in my sweat pants, showering only when absolutely necessary. Squeaks has watched a lot of tv, the house is a wreck, and my eyes are swollen from the constant tears. But what makes it worse is that my husband doesn’t understand. He’s not trying to be an ass, he just thinks that depression is a state of mind that a person puts him/herself into and can just as easily get over it. He doesn’t like that I’m on medication. He thinks that I bring this upon myself. And that just amplifies my sorrow.

Yesterday I was being raked over the coals by him for my lack of housework skills and the fact that I’m a horrible cook. That just pushed me over the edge. Yesterday was my breaking point. I unleashed on my poor dog, who has since been cowering in the corner. No, I didn’t hit her, but I did scream at her and damn if it didn’t feel good. I then laid in the back seat of my truck for a good hour or so, just crying. Once or twice I considered just driving away and leaving for a few days, but I didn’t want to do that to my precious family, so I stayed. I also considered drowning myself in a bottle or two of wine, but that wouldn’t have helped either. Instead I just collapsed in my bath tub for an indeterminable amout of time, only to return to my sweatpants.

I went to bed, hoping for sleep to come soon, but I’ve had horrible insomnia since this whole thing started up. It took a few hours, but sleep finally came. I’m up today, but I’m a zombie. I feel so fragile, like I’m going to snap at any time. I can’t believe that I could get this way while still on a high dose of meds. Thankfully our insurance kicks in on Monday, so I can see the doctor, but I just don’t know where to go from here. Obviously anti-depressants aren’t working for me. I just hope that I can get some relief.

My Own Space! June 27, 2007

We’ve lived in the house since October of last year and we’re just now finally finishing the unpacking! Most of it is junk that we can live without, so it’s just been stored in the middle bedroom this whole time. We’ve been planning a garage sale for about a year and we’re now finally getting around to it, so now we’re going through the junk boxes.

But there’s this part that I’m really excited about. Upstairs is a little loft bedroom. It is small and quaint, but I’ve got big dreams of it being “my” room. An office, a space just for me. The problem is that it’s full of my MIL’s junk (nope, she didn’t take all of her stuff with her when she moved). We’ve been nice and stashed her stuff long enough, but now it’s going. She either has to come and get it or it’s going in the yard sale. It’s not that we’re being mean about it, we just want the space. This house has 4 bedrooms and 2 of them are full of her stuff. So we started clearing out the loft room last night.

And I’m so excited! I’m dying to paint it and move in office furniture. I’ve picked out the perfect chair to put by the window, where I can read. I’ve got a great place to put a desk where I can do my homework. And I can’t quit looking at end tables! and shelves! and framed prints! I have these big dreams and I just can’t wait any longer!

I know I sound nuts, but I’m in this house all day with a crazy toddler and I want a space that I can call my own. The Hubby gets his own room, too, so it’s all fair. However, he’s putting in sports equipment, a poker table, an air hockey table, etc., so you know I’ll be joining him in his space, as well!

And MIL Makes Four June 26, 2007

I swallowed my pride and invited my MIL to accompany Squeaks and me to the zoo yesterday. It must have been a moment of temporary insanity. As soon as the invitation was on the table, I regretted it. And then I dreaded it for the 3 days leading up to it. The Hubby kept telling me it wouldn’t be that bad. It was.

Once we got there, I paid for parking, then paid admission for all of us. I had invited her, so I figured it was the nice thing to do. We started going around the zoo and she fell right into her mode of telling Squeaks what to do. Hello? We’re at the zoo. Let her be a freaking kid. For example, I took the umbrella stroller with us, knowing she wouldn’t want to ride in it at first, but she would get tired later and would want a ride. My MIL tried to force Squeaks to ride in it the entire time. I’m not even sure why. Squeaks was walking and staying right with us!

Lots of little issues like that came up throughout the morning, but it all came to a head after a few hours. Squeaks was burning up and cranky, she was tired and ready to leave. We had only made it halfway through the zoo, but that’s about the norm for her. Well my MIL was pissed at the idea of leaving simply because Squeaks wanted to. She literally whined that she hadn’t gotten to see everything yet. I was dumbfounded. The woman is a grandmother and was throwing a fit because it was time to leave. I started walking to the exit, but my MIL was wander off to look at something along the way. I finally had to tell her that we were leaving and if she wanted to stay, she could call someone to come pick her up. I guess that finally got through to her, and we made our exit.

Once in the air conditioned car, Squeaks settled down a lot, but not my MIL. Oh no. She wanted McDonalds. I’m not even kidding. First a fit at the zoo, then a tantrum because she wanted McDonalds. I told her that I wasn’t going to eat there and that I had lunch stuff for Squeaks at home. I also told her that I would fix her lunch at the house if she could wait. Apparantly she couldn’t. I had to go to the freaking drive-through at McDonalds for this woman. Who ordered a Happy Meal for herself. Not kidding.

Then when we got back, she moped around our house because she had forgotten her swimsuit and really wanted to swim in our pool. I offered to let her borrow some of The Hubby’s clothes to wear in the water, but she wouldn’t take them. Instead, she watched all of us swim, sitting at the edge and whining the whole time. It’s like having two freaking toddlers around here.

Nostalgic June 22, 2007

I swear that Squeaks is the thirstiest kid on the planet. The child constantly wants something to drink. The good news is that she prefers milk or water and isn’t fazed by the fact the I water down her juice to dilute it and keep the sugar levels in the low millions. But it’s still bothersome.

We’ve had a problem lately with drinks at bedtime. I normally throw a sippy cup in bed with her at night. She doesn’t suck on it all night, so I’m not worried about her messing up her crazy little gap teeth. How do I know this? Because she is also the Loudest Drinker Alive. I can hear over the monitor when she’s awake and getting a drink. But this is now causing a problem. She is waking up soaked from head to toe with pee because of the amount of fluids she consumes. I know “they” say to limit fluids in the evenings, but that just doesn’t work around here.

So lately I’ve been trying to send her to bed without the drink. Doesn’t work. When she wakes up and has no cold refreshment, she’s pissed. Over the monitor I hear her wailing for a DRIIIIIIIINK! And it doesn’t stop after a few minutes. Oh no. She wants her drink and she wants in now.

And it’s not that she needs it to lull her back to sleep. I’ve been defeating the purpose of this whole experiement and giving her a drink when she wakes up. She’ll chug down the glass, toddle back to bed, and ask to go Night Night. After that, she’s out. But it’s still causing major soakage. If we don’t get the kid in swim lessons soon, she’ll drown in her own urine!

But tonight when she woke up to demand her drink, I sat down and rocked her while she enjoyed the icy cold goodness that is water. After chugging it down, she tossed the cup in the floor, snuggled up to me and patted my arm until she fell asleep. And it was all I could do to put her back in bed. We never have those snuggly times anymore. She’s too busy hiding dog food or brushing her hair with my toothbrush. So it was overwhelming to have her all cuddled up and patting my arm as if to reassure me that she’s there. It brought tears to my eyes and made me regret all the times lately that I’ve been so frustrated with her and impatient. It made me think of the many sleepless night we spent together during the first year of her life and how I wished she would just grow up and learn to sleep! And tonight I sat there just wishing that she would quit growing and would stay my baby a little longer.

Guilty Until Proven Innocent June 20, 2007

We have this neighbor (and I use that term loosely in the country) who lives behind us. We’ll call him Marty. He is probably about 20 years old and he lives with his father. He used to run around with The Hubby’s brother Casey when he was alive and we talk every few months when we run into each other at the store or when we’re getting our mail. He’s the kind of kid that people describe when they talk about their murderous neighbor: he’s quiet, normally keeps to himself, strange….

I never had a problem with him until talking to another neighbor one day. He said that Marty molested their son about 6 years ago. This totally freaked me out until I dug a little deeper into things. I found out that the whole issue went to court and that Marty was found innocent. But it still kind of nags at me that he would even be accused of such a thing. Ever since then I’ve been a little leery of Squeaks. Of course she’s never outside alone, but when she’s of that age, I’ll still be watching her like a hawk.

Last night, The Hubby and I were out mowing the back acre of our land. Our back fence butts up about Marty’s and he was out mowing, as well. We all kind of stopped at the fence and talked for a few minutes, then told him that we had to get back to our work before dark. The Hubby and I worked until we had no light left, then we were driving the mower and edger back to the front of our land to the shop. I looked over and noticed Marty was driving our way, but I figured he would just pass by. Nope. He pulled into our (loooong) driveway. When we met him in the “road” he said that he was just coming over for a visit. So we sat there in the drive and chatted with him for a few more minutes. I finally mentioned that I needed to get the mower put up and get back to the house to listen for Squeaks (she was already in bed. I had the monitor with me, but I wanted an excuse to get away).

When The Hubby finally got rid of Marty, he told me that Marty kept hinting around at an invitation to come up to the house. This kind of freaked us out. Here’s this kid that we never talk to, and he’s suddenly trying to come snoop around the place. Even weirder was the fact that when he left, he just drove back to his house. I could see his stopping by if he was on his way somewhere else and we were outside. But he drove to our house just to be nosy.

I’m sure the kid is fine. He’s probably just lonely. I’ve heard he doesn’t have many friends and I’ve even heard that he might have some mental problems. Either way, this whole encounter still isn’t sitting well with me. I told The Hubby that people like him were the reason I have a gun. It’s my way of protecting my baby when The Hubby is not at home.

But it still makes me wonder when he’s going to appear again.

Bullets, Bitches June 18, 2007

I’m tired tonight, so I’m summing up what’s been going on with some bullets…

• I’ve possibly had more fun in the last 48 hours than I’ve had in a very long, long time.
• My sweet husband took me to see one of my favorite singers in concert on Friday night. He even arranged a babysitter (that wasn’t his mother) so that we could stay out as late as we wanted.
• We had a bittersweet party Saturday night. It was a lot of fun, but it was for The Hubby’s best friend who is leaving for Iraq. We are wishing the best for him.
• At said party we had a slip and slide. Do you know how long it’s been since I was on one of those? We’re definitely too old for it now, as I’m so sore I can’t even walk today.
• Today was a hectic Father’s Day, as we had to drive all over to see everyone. My FIL was out of town, so that was one less visit, but it was still crazy.
• I’m going to be spending the next few days getting this house back in order and to get ready for a garage sale. We have so much junk that needs to go!
• Tomorrow night I am going with my sister to a stage production of Chicago! I’m so excited that I might pee myself!

Changes June 15, 2007

Okay, this will be all over the place. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for awhile, but it was further put into motion when I read Heather’s recent post.

I’ve been feeling like I need to make some major changes in my life. I feel like I’m drifting around aimlessly. I am eating way too much, slacking off around the house, letting Squeaks watch way too much tv, and am overall unmotivated. I’ve been trying to find ways to fix all of this, but I can’t seem to. I try to diet, but it only leads to me thinking about food more than I usually do, so I end up eating more. I have no self-control when it comes to dieting. None at all. Is there something psychological that causes that? I try to keep my house in order, but it immediately gets messed up again, so I’ve given up on cleaning. I get tired of reading the same books over and over to Squeaks so I park her in front of the tv. These are all feelings that can be related to depression, but I don’t feel like I’m sinking back in. I’m still heavily medicated and not having emotional problems like in the past.

I’ve considered getting a job. I could contribute financially and we could have extra money. But then I think of voluntarily offering to let someone else raise my child so I can go make money that we don’t have to have. And then I don’t want to work anymore. See, I’m so freaking wishy-washy right now when I’ve always been a very strong woman.

And I’m not feeling all down on myself right now, I’m just trying to figure out what to do to change this all. I’m getting out (a concert tomorrow, a stage performance of Chicago on Monday, etc.) so it’s not like I’m chained to the house. So I guess I’m kind of asking for your advice. Have any of you felt this way? What have you done to motivate yourself?

Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes June 13, 2007

Why hasn’t someone invented boarding school for toddlers? Seriously, I would be looking into it right now if it existed. Squeaks has totally entered the “I’m going to be a pain in the ass all the time and then act really cute for other people” stage. Actually, she’s not even being cute for other people anymore.

First we have what I call the Innocent Huh. Anytime Squeaks is doing something she’s not supposed to do and I call her on it, she answered with a really sweet, high pitched “huh?”. All day today was had conversations based around the Innocent Huh:

“Squeaks, get out of the dog food bowl.”
“Huh?”

“Squeaks, sit down in the bathtub.”
“Huh?”

“Squeaks, don’t drink that toxic household cleaner.”
“Huh?”

Okay, so that last one didn’t happen, but you get my drift. At first I would repeat myself, in case she really didn’t hear me, but now I’ve learning better, as “huh?” is always the answer. It makes me want to pull my hair out and stangle myself with my own long locks.

Then there is the fit-throwing. Oh Lord, the fit throwing. And I haven’t found which tactic works best for it. When Squeaks throws a fit, she throws herself belly-first on the floor, whining and screaming. At first I would put her in time out for it. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. For the times it doesn’t, I try ignoring her. That usually results in her repeatedly throwing herself on the floor, looking at me for some sort of reaction. When she doesn’t get one, she usually attaches herself to my leg while screaming in a pitch that should be reserved for ambulance sirens. Finally, I had it yesterday, so while she pitched a fit, I sang the song “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes” 8 times in a row, complete with motions. This only pissed her off more to the point that if I sang the song today, she would automatically start screaming again. It’s like some sort of brainwash.

And while writing this entry I realized why there aren’t toddler boarding schools. Because no one in their right mind would want to put up with a house full of toddlers! I guess that only way I will survive is to drink until she turns 18. That should fix it.

Help Us All! June 11, 2007

My MIL is in the early phases of menopause. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle this one. I seriously think she should be locked up until this is all over.

And to top it all? She’s writing her memoirs. Like anyone would want to read them. She thinks that she can get them published and become a bestselling author. I can’t wait to see what she writes about me. If anyone should write a book, it should be me, writing about her crazy ass.

Oh So Sleepy June 9, 2007

My mother, Squeaks, and I spent the last two days in Arkansas to visit my grandmother. What should have been a simple trip was a nightmare.

My aunt and uncle were also visiting, in from Texas, and they brought their dog with them. This dog is a 1 year old Corgi with more energy than he knows what to do with. When we arrived at the house, Squeaks made a beeline for him, but he jumped all over her, scratching her and causing her to cry. For the rest of the evening, the dog had to be locked up on the deck or on a leash, which caused him to bark incessantly.

The rest of the evening went well, however, so we though we were going to be fine. The sleeping arrangements were a little tight, so my mom and I were sharing a bed down in the basement bedroom, with Squeaks sleeping in the playpen in the same room. I put Squeaks down for bed at her usual time while we spent the evening playing cards out on the back deck. When it came time for us to go to bed, Mom and I crept into the room without waking Squeaks up and I couldn’t believe my good luck. That phrase should have cued the ominous music in your head.

At 1 am, Squeaks woke up screaming her head off. I figued she was a little freaked by everything, so I got her a drink and held her for awhile. She nodded back off to sleep, so I carefully put her back into the playpen. But the little sensor that she had as a newborn was suddenly working again and she woke up as soon as her head hit the sheet. We did this back and forth game for about 30 minutes before I gave in and put her in bed with Mom and I. This worked for all of 30 minutes more, with us both lightly dozing, then Squeaks decided it was Wrestlemania time. She flopped all over me, then reached over, slapped my mom on the ass, then died laughing. This woke my mom up and we were all laughing in a matter of seconds.

But the little laugh fest only further woke Squeaks. It wasn’t until 3:30 that I gave up, put her in her crib, and let her whine until she fell asleep. I knew that would be the only way to get her back to sleep, but I was afraid her crying would wake up everyone upstairs. It took about 20 minutes until she was completely out, but I was trembling with relief when she finally gave it up.

Then the storms rolled in. Thunder that shook the house and bright-as-day lightening. Thankfully Squeaks was worn out from before, so she slept through it, but I didn’t. Then my darling daughter got up at 7 this morning, just like usual. We had talked about my staying another night, but that solved the problem for me. While the women in the family tried to calm down a whiny, sleepy Squeaks, I packed up the car to head back home. After lunch, we set back out for Oklahoma.

I don’t think we will be returning until Squeaks is old enough to take Benedryl.