child of God, wife, mother, recovering anorexic who longs to see the beauty in herself that she sees in the world around her

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

sick list

1. I LOVE my doctor! It was so nice to see my own doctor. I haven't seen her since this whole sickness began.  I have seen another dr in the practice, talked to yet another dr after hours on call, and then saw yet another dr at urgent care over the weekend.

2. anti nausea medicine is the bomb!

3.  percocet is my best friend right now

4.  today is the first day since Thursday that I put on "real" clothes not yoga pants and Hubby's t-shirt

5. pleurisy SUCKS  (it's an inflammation of the lining inside the lungs)

6. I'm really looking forward to having a long enough attention span again to really blog

Friday, February 24, 2012

still alive!

I've been laid out this week with a wretched virus.  My temp has ranged between 101 and 104.5.  Today my fever finally broke.  My headache is gone.  The backache that rivaled labor pains is gone.  The coughing so hard that I nearly throw up is still there.  And new today to the mix is a wicked sore throat and swollen glands.  Fun times, not so much.  My darling Hubby drove me to the doctors yesterday when I was too sick and weak to take myself.  He really is a good man.  Anyway, the short story is that I'm still alive but also still very drained.  That's it, no words of wisdom, or inward struggles to relay or even stories about my kids. 

I've been sick.  It sucks.  I'm exhausted and heading to bed.  Sleep sweet blog land friends :)

Thursday, February 16, 2012

learning early

Sunday my boys got balloons at their cousin's birthday.  Three were released into the air for a balloon race (see mamma knows fun ways to not have helium balloons in the back seat of my car).  One came home in the trunk for middle child to draw a face on.  Monday night while drawing on it, the over inflated balloon popped.  Tears.  Lots of tears.  Hubby asked if I had any magic mommy words.  I leaned down, hugged my son, and said, "That really sucks. I'm sorry your balloon popped, what a bummer."  Yep, those were my magic words.  It stinks that it happened, I feel badly for you, and life will go on.

He cried a little more.  He is my ultra sensitive soul and his feelings were hurt with the balloon.  Then he asked for an apple, skin cut off and core out.  I was just about to say yes when he said, "Sometimes when I'm sad, if I eat something I don't feel sad anymore."  WHOA!  I told him no to the apple.  I pulled him up in my lap and explained that it is ok to feel sad.  Food is for when your body is hungry not for when your emotions are sad.  He was a little confused that I wasn't going to give him something to help him feel better.  I kept explaining.  "Buddy, it is ok to be sad that your balloon popped.  It is ok to cry when you are sad.  If you let yourself be sad now, I promise it won't last forever.  You will get glad again, I promise.  But it isn't ok to try to not feel those feelings by eating something.  Food is only for when your tummy is hungry.  It doesn't really help you feel happy again, it just distracts you from the thing that made you sad."

Do you know how hard it was to not give him the apple?  Do you know how hard it was to tell him that food is for his body not for his emotions?  Do you know how hard it was to do the right thing by my boy instead of making it all better?  Sometimes being a mommy means doing what you need to do not what you want to do.

Monday, February 6, 2012

damn good mom

I've been off today.  I think my girly time is around the corner.  I've just been emotional all day long.  It's been one of those days where I question and second guess everything that I do.  It's been one of those days that I ask God WHY He thinks I'm the perfect person to parent these three angels he entrusted to me.  I've been really discouraged as a mom for a few days now.  I wonder if I'm ruining my kids beyond repair (ahem, can we say therapy bills?????).

Tonight I took the kids to Chic Fil A for dinner.  Another tired mom sat across from me.  She had 4 boys.  Her older 3 were the exact ages as my 3 boys and then she had a toddler.  You could see the tired etched in her face and hear the loneliness in her voice when she struck up a conversation with me.  "You have all boys too?"  I totally didn't feel like being social.  But I also know that look, the one that begs "Please tell me that I'm not the only one who feels like my life is spinning out of control right now!" 

We talked for a while.  Her husband has been away on business.  She was cooped up in the house all weekend during our blizzard with 4 kids and no husband.  He used to travel more often.  He used to travel to China and would be gone for 3-5 weeks.  And this time should have been a breeze because he was only gone 5 days.  He comes home tomorrow.  She had gotten out of the routine of having him traveling often and this time just seemed overwhelming to her.  I had no judgement for this tired mamma making the best of what she had. Our kids played, sometimes beautifully, sometimes needing to be reminded that ninja moves in a tiny play area are not ok because someone will probably get hurt.

While we talked, my baby came out crying.  The kid in the red shirt pushed him down and told him he couldn't have a turn on the slide.  I looked hesitantly over my shoulder to see her relieved and shaking her head.  None of her boys were wearing red, it wasn't her kid.  We kept socializing.  My middle comes out crying that the boy in the red shirt is calling him a nerd.  Yeah, that was the evening.  The red shirt bully wouldn't leave them alone.  He was either verbally or physically antagonizing them the entire time.

I'm not a politically correct mom.  I thought I knew that already but I didn't.  In the car on the way home I got the whole story.  It involved a plea for niceness, a demand for an apology and finally chasing the red shirt bully down, cornering him and making him kiss one of my kids feet.  Now mind you, I had not heard this while it was going on and this was the after news.  I had to stifle a laugh to hear my sweet middle son tell this story.  He was so animated.  My response?  Uh, did I mention that I'm not very politically correct?  I told him I bet that kid will think twice before he pushes a younger kid down again and I bet he never calls anyone a nerd ever again.  Wrong answer?

I didn't think so but I had them retell the story to Hubby just to make sure.  I had the benefit of masking my laughter while driving facing away from my kids at night.  Hubby no such luck.  He tried so hard to keep a straight face.  And finally we both cracked and laughed together.  So I posted on FB.  Less detail.  More criticism.  I was hurt to tears by the judgement I received.  My feelings of the past days must have been right, God was slightly confused when He chose me of all the women in the world to parent these boys.  Someone else would have taught them how to react with just words and no smack down.  But I was also really hurt that the criticism came from someone who hates when she is criticized by someone who doesn't know all the facts.  It would have been easy to judge my fellow mom tonight at the restaurant, but instead I listened to her story.  I heard her exhaustion.  I heard her questioning if she was doing right by her kids.  I could empathize.  Why wasn't I given the same kindness I had just given to someone else?

My husband and friends went to battle for me, all so much nicer than I would have been if I had handled it on my own.  They defended me without ever attacking her.  The evening got better.  And then my oldest came up the stairs (he was supposed to be sleeping) just to say, "Mom, I just wanted to tell you that I love you!"  And there it hit me.

I am a damn good mom.  I love my boys with every fiber of my being and they know it.  I won't let them hide behind mean words or hurtful actions.  But I will support them when they stand up for themselves and each other.  I'm a good enough mom that my kids felt safe in telling me that they had fought back.  I'm a good enough mom that even though I had been a little sharp with the kids most of the evening, they still all wanted me to cuddle with them at bedtime and my oldest wanted me to stay to talk for a while.  I'm a good enough mom that my kids feel safe enough to tell me when they hate me, they know I'll love them anyway and tell them that it's ok because I love them enough for both of us.  I'm a good enough mom because my boys know I'd drop anything to be there for them when they need me.  I'm a good enough mom to give consequences, even when it means disciplining me as well (no video games today for such and such behavior hurts me at least as much as them).  I'm a good enough mom to follow through on the consequences I do give out.  And I'm a good enough mom to say I'm sorry, I was wrong, will your please forgive me when I blow it.  I'm a damn good mom and God knew exactly what He was doing when He paired me with these three completely different personalities and asked me to take care of His children for a while.  And it took someone pointing to my insufficiencies as a parent for me to be able to see that even though I'm far from perfect, I am indeed a good mom.

side effects

Remember when I first started my new medicine and swore that weight gain had to be a side effect, even though my doctor said it wasn't and the rx pamphlet didn't say it either?  Well I was right.  Last night while trying to find coupons for my name brand prescription, I stumbled across a forum for users of this medicine.  Bloating and weight gain was on everyone's list.  And now I see why I feel like I look pregnant.  GRRRRRRRR.......

Oh and there are other things that I never really thought about being from the medicine. Like I have been very annoyed lately, especially with Hubby.  He hasn't done anything wrong.  He hasn't done anything any different than he always does.  But I find myself feeling frustrated with him ALL THE TIME.  Let me tell you how much that sucks!  I can't even point a finger and say, "When you did_____ I felt______."  He's the best man alive and my best friend and yet I just feel annoyed with him.  That doesn't seem very fair.  But it isn't just him.  I'm getting really annoyed with bad drivers, with rude customers, and back talking youngins in the store.  Little things that didn't use to bug me, or if they did is was momentary, are really ruffling my feathers lately.

**TMI ALERT! If you don't want to hear about my sex life, skip this next paragraph!**
 It isn't supposed to have sexual side effects.  My libido is not gone completely, like on other meds I have tried.  We are still maintaining a pretty healthy sex life.  BUT I'm not having mind blowing, earth shattering orgasms anymore.  It's more like, "oh that was nice" but nothing that rocks my world.  I just assumed it was the ebb and flow of physical relationships.  You know, not every time is going to be earth shattering and that's ok.  It wasn't until I started reading in a vast majority of posts that people were still enjoying sex but were experiencing delayed orgasms or orgasms were stopping all together or,  like in my case, just getting weaker, that I realized that it has been a really long while since I've had a toe curling, peel me off the ceiling orgasm.  Again sorry for tmi, but it is bothering me and on my mind and oh yeah, I have no brain filter and have no problem discussing sex openly.  I like those toe curling, peel me off the ceiling orgasms!  I miss them!  I mentioned this to Hubby, he misses them too.

So my med works on the depression better than any other I've ever tried.  It is specifically made for MDD, the first one marketed directly for it.  I still feel sad but usually I can push through the sad.  I still feel social anxiety but I can manage it.  I'm not hopeless like I've been in the past.  But I'm also living a very boring, very safe life.  I'm always annoyed, I'm not enjoying the full extent of orgasms anymore (I'm sure those have nothing to do with one another ; ) ! )  and I feel fat all the time.  Is this really what my life has amounted to?  Am I really doomed to wander a mediocre but tolerable existence forever?  I guess it is better than a highly depressed, can't pull myself out of bed kind of existence.  I just want more from life.  Maybe I want too much.  Maybe wanting to love my life not just tolerate it is just more than I should dare to ask for?

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

words to live by

I read a great blog post  recently and to be honest there has been a line in there that has carried me through more than a few rough days. 

"Jesus doesn't care if my thighs touch."

Ok, there have been days that statement has brought me a giggle as I walk into work.  There have been days that it has comforted me as I lament how huge and sloppy and FAT my thighs are.  It has convicted me of my own double standard.  I see models and think they look bow legged when their thighs don't touch.  And yet I cry that my thighs barely touch when I'm standing and smoosh together in all sorts of unglamorous fattiness when I sit.  (True or not, it is what I see and is what I lament when I am alone.  Therefore it is my reality.)  Jesus doesn't care if my thighs touch, even when I criticize the too skinny model all the while criticizing my own body for not being that skinny.

When I panic about ordering pizza with my family, Jesus still doesn't care if my thighs touch.  When I sneak a piece of Dove chocolate only to feel guilty the moment I swallow it, Jesus still doesn't care if my thighs touch.  My thighs are not what makes me His daughter.  My thighs are not what I'm counting on to get me into Heaven (THANK GOD!).  My thighs ultimately have no bearing on eternity.  My thighs don't make God think I'm ugly.  My thighs somehow don't even make Hubby think I'm ugly.  The size of my thighs really doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things.  whew, it takes a lot of work to let something so witty transform your perspective! 

Jess, I hope you get a chance to read this post and know how much your comment has helped me.  Short, sweet and to the point, but it has made me think a LOT lately and has brought comfort on several occasions.

Tonight at work a girl came in.  She was leaning over the ice cream cooler and I noticed it, her thighs didn't touch.  I figured it was how she was standing.  Moments later she walked away from the cooler, letting her fingertips linger for just a moment longer than she maybe meant to.  She came to my register with a low cal fiber granola bar.  I wondered what the voices in her head were doing to her.  I know how brutal they can be, especially when they know you have even expressed desire for a forbidden food.  As she walked away I smiled a little because I wanted to hug her and tell her "Jesus doesn't care if your thighs touch."