Midwestern Mommy

It had come on so slowly that I hadn’t even noticed. It snuck up on me — this thick fog, this black funk, this leaded fatigue.

At first I shrugged it off, thinking it was a series of bad days. Then I thought it was PMS. Then I thought I just needed more sleep. I stopped listening to my body and soul. I just kept making excuses, hoping it would go away.

But it didn’t. It got worse. I was ill-tempered and consistently felt like an exposed nerve. I felt overwhelmed by day-to-day demands. But what made me really start to wonder was when I went to a certain corporate sponsored “baby camp.” At the gathering, I saw a room full of these   amazing,    talented     women  –   women   I   respect,     admire     and     adore. (I’m sure I’m forgetting others here.) But I wanted nothing more than to dissipate, to melt into nothingness. I felt painfully self-conscious. 

I walked up to someone I knew to say “hi.” She said, “Oh. I didn’t know YOU’D be here.” In my mind she was unhappy to see me. This solidified my thoughts of, “I am nothing and have no right to be here. Someone else should be in my place. Someone who can write.”  

I was (and still am) incredibly grateful to warm, wonderful Liz, Jaelithe and Dana. I clung to them like a newly born kitten to its mother. I felt just as blind and vulnerable.

After that, I began to avoid people and social invitations. This anxiety enveloped me even during meetings with family and old friends. My mustered energy was mainly spent on trying not to cry and wishing myself invisible.

I had these heartbreaking thoughts. The “I’m such a shitty wife and mother. My husband and son would be so much better off without me” thought alternated with the “I’m such a fuck-up. I have no value. Me not being on this earth would probably make it a better place” thought. 

That was when I knew I needed help. That this thing was bigger than what I could handle on my own. I’d been through this nine years ago. During that time, I got to a point where the only thought that got me out of bed was, “hey, maybe today will be my lucky day and I’ll get hit by a bus!”.

But now there’s a little boy I need to take care of. And a household. And a marriage. And a yard. And other obligations. And I knew I couldn’t afford to slip further.

So I went to the doctor. I starred at the shiney, white-tiled floor and said as little as possible, holding my breath whenever my eyes would well  with tears. I told him about the anti-anxiety drugs I’ve been on throughout the years that were supposed to ward off the many migraines. We discussed how the side effects had always overshadowed what little improvement they’d bring. I told him if they were my only option, I didn’t want them. But he had a different medication for me to try. 

So its been about a week since I’ve been on “a little something.” I know its still pretty new. But it is keeping me from drowning in depression — my buoy in the sea. I know medicine isn’t the only answer. I need to make some changes. But the horrible thoughts, irritability and heavy numbness is starting to slowly dissipate. 

I can’t adequately discribe how precious it is to see Seth’s sweet little smile and feel a bit of joy. Or to appreciate the vivid colors of spring flowers. Or to think about the future and not feel dread. I had forgotten what it felt like to genuinely experience those emotions. And I missed that. I missed feeling like “me.” 

Thanks to JJ for writing a post a few weeks ago that really stuck with me. Thanks to a few other bloggers who’ve been very frank about their depression as well as the aspects surrounding it.

Remember the “Name this laptop” contest? Well, last night “the boy” took a break from his super busy schedule of going to school, pestering the dog, stinking up the bathroom, begging for candy, riding his bike, evading showers and playing outside. He really got a kick out of the names ya’ll submitted. He gave his duty far more consideration and consequence than I thought. I figured it would be a close call between “Lightsaber Princess Poo Poo Pants” (Combining Star Wars weapons and potty talk?  What’s NOT to love there?) and Daphne. (He loves Scooby-Doo.)

But after a good giggle over Linlee and Andrea’s ideas he settled down. He had a very important job to do. As he munched thoughtfully on some Ritz Bits, he chose “Libby the Laptop” (Aleka’s World).  Congrats Alexandra!

Thanks ya’ll for participating. It was alot of fun hearing the names. Hope your weekend is a happy one!  

I know there are people that say laptops are not hazardous to one’s health but I beg to differ.

 Like when you are using your laptop at your snackbar in your kitchen. And you get off the stool, take a step and trip over the battery cord. And hit your head on the counter.

 OUCH!

%$#$^&@&^%$!!!!!

 &^%$@$^&*&^^$$$!!!!

(Hold on, I’m not done swearing yet.)

**%$$^^#@%!!!!

Anyone have an icepack?

Lovely friend Dana at Mamalogues lost about four years of her writings recently due to server issues. If you know of any way or know of anyone who can help her, PLEASE let her know (or send me a comment and I can forward your info on to her.) Can you imagine? Four years of posts - even birthday letters to her sons! 

Btw, Dana is one of the amazing bloggers behind the St. Louis Bloggers Guild.  Other totally solar bloggers include: A Bun’s Life, WOBL in Training, The Broad Brush, SuperFun Patrol, The State of Discontent, Slackermom’s R Us, Prologos, News Bitch, Patrick Says, and Little Bald Doctors.

As of last Saturday I became the owner of a laptop. You are laughing, aren’t you? Because you’re on your third one…

I didn’t care what it looked like — it just couldn’t weigh more than my son (40 pounds) and had to do what I wanted it to do WHEN I wanted it to. (Very much UNLIKE my son.)

I had heard Very Bad Things about Dell laptops and the company’s customer service. Has HP Pavilion dv2000 pissed anyone off? (Gulp.) Hope not. Cause that’s the kind I got. (And I know this is so not a big deal to anyone else. But its a cool thing for me!)

Some neato features? A built-in webcam (great for my homemade porn biz - I cater to the men with cellulite fetishes. All two of them.) and some really pretty design across the top and keyboard area.

Don’t ask me anything else about the computer because I have no clue. Its like my car — I have no clue what’s what. And as long as it does what its supposed to do, I will love it, maintain it and probably leave candy wrappers all over it.

Speaking of taking care… This here computer needs a name, yes? She’s female (because she has female “parts” or plugins). So what shall we name her? The winner (Seth will choose) will get a $15 gift cert to Target or Wal-Mart. Feel free to leave your name idea in the comments section. Oh and if you think Target and Wal-Mart are evil, I can even donate to a charity in your name. Winner is planned to be announced on April 28.

P.S. There’s another contest opportunity at my other blog. Grab your feisty fem friends! You could win a trip to London.

Caution: Bitchy rant that will probably make you think less of me ahead. 

Most mornings, you can find my son and I in the breakfast nook. His brow is furrowed. My temper is tested. There is alot teeth grinding on both our parts. I’m talking homework.

We sit together for almost an hour each morning. Since his kindergarten session starts in the afternoon, we started doing homework in the mornings, when his brain is fresh. (Next year will be a whole different schedule.) But it doesn’t seem to matter - it is still a constant struggle.

Its not that he’s got an hour of homework — he usually only gets homework a few times a week. These worksheets should only take the child 10-20 minutes. But yet… With all of the lollygagging, singing about poopy butts and weenies, screeching, calling the dog, asking for a drink, going to the bathroom, whining, playing with the eraser, arguing, and fussing, these worksheets take more like 30-40 minutes.

And that’s only IF I’m standing right next to him to say, “Seth. Now you need to write a lowercase ‘r’. No, that’s uppercase. You need to erase that. Write a lowercase ‘r’. Seth! You just wrote another capital ‘r’. You need to write a small ‘r’. (He finally writes the ‘r’.) Ok great. Do you see you’re trying to write the word ‘rat’, what comes after the ‘r’. Yes! Its the ‘at’ sound. How do you think that’s spelled? Yes! ‘a’ and ’t’. Very good. Now write the ‘a’ and ‘t’. No, not on this other line. You need to write the ‘a’ and ‘t’ right next to the ‘r’. We’re writing the word ‘rat’ remember? Ok. Dude, what is that? That doesn’t look like an ‘a’. Remember? An ‘a’ is a circle and a stick, Bunny. No that stick is on the wrong side of the circle.

After 20 minutes of this. (I’m losing patience faster as the school year wears on.) I get frustrated and start talking to him in a very irritated tone. And I wonder… Why can’t the child just write out the freaking ‘r’ and the ‘at’ on the same line? Why can’t he just do it without me standing over him? When I volunteer in his classroom, I see kids doing their work by themselves. Why can’t Seth do that? Is this normal? Is there something wrong with me and my approach? Is there something wrong with him? I see other kids follow directions, why can’t he? (We spend alot of time correcting work he did at school - not that he didn’t know the material - he just didn’t follow directions or finish the project.)

And since his skills aren’t up to par in certain areas we do extra little projects. He brings them in to his teacher — mainly so she can see he’s trying. (And also, because I don’t think she’d believe me otherwise.) He’s come a long way with his fine motor skills since the beginning of the year but… There’s alot more that needs to be done. (The bright-side is that his handwriting is more legible than hubby’s chicken scratch.)

I can tell the homework has taken a toll on our relationship. We aren’t as close as we used to be. What doesn’t help is that I’m the one who has to make sure he does all of those things he hates to do - like shower, brush teeth, enforce bedtimes, eat veggies, do homework and so forth. Hubby takes him ice skating for two hours then out for an cream dinner and HE’s the hero. I’m the big, bad bitch.

When I think of the upcoming years of homework help, I start to wonder if I can talk my doctor into giving me a script for a lifetime supply of Valium. Clearly ONE of us needs some sort of medicine to keep from going crazy and strangling the other.

But I have to wonder… Is all of this “normal”?

P.S. I know that the kitchen isn’t usually the best environment for kids to do homework. But we have no other kids. The breakfast nook is one of the quietest places in the house. With all of the construction and remodeling of neighbor homes as well as trash and delivery trucks driving by, the rooms facing  the street are far more distracting than a little room that faces a quiet back yard.

Society and business are beginning to understand the power of the blogger — not just in entertaining the masses but in shaping opinions, educating the public and building networks. This brave new world – a large part of what is now known as ”social media”– is one full of emerging opportunities. But it is also a world rife with plagiarism and abuse. Many of us, sadly, are seeing various companies (and even certain ahem newspaper people) use a writer’s words and energies to their advantage.

If the writer is being credited, linked to, or reimbursed for his or her time/talent there are rarely problems. But as social media grows, so does the number of opportunists willing to exploit said bloggers. NOT Cool.

Bloggers need to organize. Bloggers also need a place where they can go for guidance on tech issues, legal issues, blogging ethics and information on community outreach events. And that’s why the St. Louis Bloggers Guild was born.

The program is still in its infancy. We’ve got VERY BIG ideas and we’re adapting as we grow. Right now, we’re trying to get the word out to the rest of the bloggers in St. Louis, St. Charles County, and the metro east. So if you’re a blogger in the St. Louis area, visit the St. Louis Bloggers Guild for more information.

 I know! Two whole posts in a row NOT related to suburban homelife. Crazy!

P.S. There’s a post at Midwestern Mommy Reviews on the “L” word. (Not “love,” not “lesbians” not “lasagna” but “lice”. Parents of school-aged kids? You might want to read this review written on behalf of Mom Central.)

While at a certain camp in New Jersey, we bloggers learned of a very cool program cleverly named InfantSEE.  Many of us were amazed — we feel like a pretty in-the-know lot. But most of us had never heard of this program, let alone taken advantage. Since many readers of this little blog are moms with young kids, I wanted to pass this info along.

Most parents don’t think twice about scheduling/schlepping kids to doctor and dentist appointments.  But for some reason we usually don’t think about our kids’ vision. Many of us (me included) assume that if there was an early vision problem, the pediatrician would catch it. But that’s not always the case. And vision problems, especially undiagnosed ones, affect the way your child learns, interprets and interacts with the world.  And that’s why there’s InfantSEE.

 According to the organization’s website, “InfantSEE® is a public health program designed to ensure that eye and vision care becomes an integral part of infant wellness care to improve a child’s quality of life… Our member optometrists will provide a comprehensive infant eye assessment within the first year of life as a no cost public health service. ”

For a list of participating doctors as well as information on your baby’s eye health and program background, check out the organization’s site. K? 

P.S. Oh and if you get really heavy periods? You might want to read the piece I posted on Midwestern Mommy Reviews.

S: “Mom, I’ve been thinking alot lately.”

Me: “What about?”

S: “Well, I just don’t know how anyone could not like me.”

Me: “Well, I don’t know how anyone could not like you either.”

S: “I know! Its like….Its IMPOSSIBLE to not like me!”

Me: “You’re right. You’re cute, cuddly, fun and you’re very kind to other people. You’re also very good at sharing and you’re a good friend. What’s not to like about that?”

S: “I know! And I’m good looking and I have LOTS of cool super powers!”

Me: (trying not to giggle.) “Oh and you’re very humble too.”

S: “Yeah. I sure am.”

Uh-huh.

P. S. Speaking of kids… There’s a review (on behalf of Parent Bloggers Network) of Hip Hop Harry’s “Move Those Feet” on Midwestern Mommy Reviews today. If you take care of tiny dancers, you might want to think about this dvd.

P.S.S.Did you know that your uterus can fall out? Yup. And when it does, it apparently looks like a scrotum. Oy! But you know what can go a long way in preventing that? Kegels. (You’ve just freaked out a little after reading that and you’re TOTALLY doing Kegels right now, aren’t ya? Me too! But that’s one of the nuggets we learned during that little campy-camp thingee in New Jersey. Plan to give you the lowdown very, very soon.)

So I just got back from a certain conference with a certain manufacturer in New Jersey. (Yeah, I know! I have NO clue why they’d invite me either.) I can’t wait to talk about the all expenses paid trip but will have to do so on my review blog. 

 My computer is hosed right now. The hubby has let me use his laptop for a few minutes. So I just wanted to post a little “hi.” And let you know my posting/visiting/Twittering will be sporadic over the next few days. (Or until I get a computer to use.) Am all twitchy — haven’t read your blogs in about a week. Am dying to know what’s going on with you all.

We took Seth to his first Cards game this past Friday night. It was FREEZING. But fun. Even with discounted tickets (in the nosebleeds) it still added up to be an expensive family outing. So I’m just wondering, have you taken your kids to a professional sporting event yet? If not, why? If so, why? Is cost an issue? Do you figure “it costs what it costs” or do you cringe anytime you add up how much you paid for the entire adventure?

Just wondering…  

Mamma Loves has always known she was adopted.

What she didn’t know was her ethnicity. Where did her blue eyes and freckles come from? People typically assume she’s Irish.  Is she or isn’t she? That’s one of the question about her heritage that she’s been dying to know for a multitude of years.

And that’s why I nominated her a Perfect Post.  What many people (who aren’t adopted) often take for granted is the fact that they know their genetic background (or at least a good part of it). Whether a person is African American, Asian, German, Scottish or a mixture? Most people have an idea.  But there’s so much more to that question.

What she also discusses is not just the wondering but the longing to be a part of a culture. So she makes a decision. She writes about it HERE. To me, this post captures Amie’s personality perfectly — insightful, smart, and spirited.

The Perfect Post Awards are sponsored by Petroville and Suburban Turmoil.  Visit them for a list of other winners.

Also, if you’ve got some Thomas the Tank Engine fans in your house, you don’t want to miss this review (sponsored by Parent Bloggers Network) on Engines and Escapades.