Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Cold and Dark

I admitted to my study group that I am not functioning at 100%. It's odd to be so self aware that I can see what's wrong with me so clearly and yet not be willing to do anything about it. I know I'm tired, not eating well, worried about things and maybe even depressed. Even though I know these things I am not taking steps to fix them. That's not true. I made a doctor appointment for a physical. Perhaps she can convince me to do more.

The pessimist in me knows that she will suggest therapy since talking to someone can be helpful. The trouble is I've been to therapy several times with several different people and it's never worked to my advantage. I either have to convince them that there is something wrong or they latch on to something that it not wrong and try to fix it. One therapist had the bright realization that "you're just not happy". Oh really? It only took you three hours to figure that out? Brilliant!

I'm not against medication or therapy. It has it's place. In this case I know what's wrong and therefore what to do to fix it. It's the doing it that I can't seem to muster. The stress levels are rising. I'm maxed out and so is Husband. Work is getting more stressful for him and I feel guilty adding to it. Now is not the time to take a vacation with the uncertainty.

There are a bunch of little things bothering me and I'm trying to let them go, but as each one piles on it gets harder to let them go. The absolute worst thing happening is I'm getting tired of my kids. I'm getting irritated. I can't seem to just enjoy them and relax at all. As soon as I'm awake I start counting the hours until it's bedtime for them.

Maybe it's a little PPD. Can it be that after 8 months? I think so. I think some of the honeymoon from a newborn has worn off and now I'm a mother of two. On one hand I'm glad they are getting older and on the other I am obsessed with having another baby. In my heart I know it's not a good idea, but I keep dreaming of it.

Oh yeah and my feet are constantly cold.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Out of the Mouths

Super Heroes are big in our house. Several times a day we are assigned a Super to be. Peanut is usually Spiderman or Batman. Occasionally we get to choose, but usually he decides. Husband decided he was going to be Captain America the other day. This morning in the car Peanut asked me where he was.

Peanut: Where is my Daddy? Where is my friend, Captain America?

I have been trying to be Wonder Woman since she is a girl and so am I. Tonight Peanut asked me who I was.

Peanut: Mommy are you Wonder Warmer? Daddy said you were Wonder Warmer.

That's me. I can warm up anyone or anything. There are so many crazy things this kid says. We have decided he has no inner monologue. Where most of us think several million thoughts a day and only vocalize a small percentage of them. He says every thought he has. My sister asked if I thought he had thoughts that he didn't say. I don't think so. When would he have time? His motor-mouth goes non-stop. I love the little guy and he is pretty entertaining, but it's also tiring.

One new fascination he has is with soda, specifically Sprite. That is what I drink most often. The other day I had some and he asked for a drink so I put 1/2 a cup in his cup. He was drinking through a straw so I cautioned him the bubbles might go in his nose. Of course he didn't listen and the bubbles tickled him. This morning I had a soda in the car and he asked what it was. I told him it was a soda.

Peanut: I don't want the bubbles to blow my nose up.

Indeed. No one wants that. Noses would be lost all over the World. He is a semi-perfect parrot. Tonight at dinner he kept changing his mind over whether to eat his meal with a fork or spoon. I told him he could get whichever he wanted. He went into this conversation about can I have a spoon or fork? After asking over and over and over and over I said he could get whatever. He came back to the table with a large serving spoon.

Peanut: Mama, is this a spoon?
Me: Yes (thinking whether or not to explain big vs. little spoons)

I gave up and sighed thinking at least he was going to eat his dinner. I think I said that out loud because when he got back to his chair he said the following.

Peanut: Whatever.

We try not to laugh at the things he says because sometimes it really is inappropriate. Usually it's too funny not to bust up.

Husband: Crap!
Peanut: Crap. Is that a spider? Crap. Crap spider. Is Crap a spider Daddy?
Me: (Rolling eyes at Husband for teaching 3 yr old new word)

It's fun when he opens up in front of others too. We spent Christmas at my sisters house and because the rest of the family did too sleeping space was limited. I ended up sleeping in a bed with Peanut. He tossed and turned all night and I slept very little. Sometime around 5:30 am he started to wake up. I told him to go back to sleep. Daddy then got up (he was sleeping on the floor next to the bed) and talked to him a bit. That night in the van with two of my sisters, my mother and my sisters two kids and Peanut we were driving around looking at Christmas lights. I was telling the story of not sleeping well and how Peanut started to wake before 6.

Me: Then Husband woke up and started telling him to go back to sleep.
Peanut (while slamming fist into hand for emphasis): Daddy said stop your damn crying.

I'm not sure of the exact statement, but the d word was uttered. I didn't hear him and no one would say what he said. Suffice it to say it wasn't anything a 3 yr old should be saying. Oh well.

At dinner last night he was kind of messy and Husband gave him a napkin.

Husband: Wipe your forearms.
Peanut: I don't have four arms. Silly Daddy I only have two. One. Two. Not four.

I saw that one coming. Especially since way back when Peanut was trying to tell Husband something and he kept starting over and kids do.

Husband: Spit it out.
Peanut: Spittooey.

He looked down and spit. We were in the living room at the time. Kids take everything so literal. It really is great to listen to how he views the World. I just wish he could keep his view to himself once in a while. There are so many great things he says. It makes me a little sad when he starts saying things right. I know you want them to develop and speak clearly and properly, but there is something about that innocent, kid talk that I'll really miss.

Monday, January 05, 2009


Driving home from daycare this evening I stopped behind several cars waiting for the first car to turn left. I don't remember exactly what we were doing. It seems like Peanut was telling me something about school. I was thinking about Oprah a little. Anyway, I heard a screeching noise and looked over my left shoulder wondering what was happening. Then we got hit. I guess the guy behind us was thinking about Oprah too? Doubtful, but he was not paying any attention.

There seems to be no damage and other than both kids started crying I think we are all fine. I got pretty amped up for a while and couldn't think straight. I took his name and number, but he conveniently didn't have his insurance card. I don't think I'll need it, but still. Before he left I gave him some friendly advice to get his stinking insurance card in his car.

Should I have called the police? Really there was no damage (at least that I could see in the dusk) and we probably won't do anything more. I'm guessing the cops would have maybe given him a ticket for driving without insurance? Or do they care? I thought it was a law to have insurance now. What would you have done?

I'm very thankful the kids seem OK. By nature I worry about everything and I'm quite paranoid that something may be lurking. It was minor and I think they are OK.