Where am I?

Cole had his six-month checkup.

He’s only 19 pounds 8 ounces. I really thought he’d be over 20 by now.

I realized where my mysterious bruises on my thighs have been coming from—Cole in his car seat smashing against me as I carry him.

I’ve got to say, I’m feeling extremely depressed tonight. I feel disconnected from my body, from other people. It’s one of those things that’s so hard to explain. I feel nervous, anxious.

I just want to be able to relax and stop thinking. I guess I miss my yoga practice. I’ve got to get myself some alone time.

It’s hard to breathe. Shortness.

Blech.

Gotta Go

The nap gods smiled upon us today. Cole took two, I repeat, two two-hour naps.

The rain fell nonstop.

And I gained back a fun side-effect of having a baby.

I pee nonstop.

Well, not nonstop, but any amount of peeage not associated with a toilet, I consider as good as nonstop.

This is one of those untalked about features of stopping your kegel exercises, I guess. I was squeezing my “pelvic floor” like a good yogini many times a day, but stopped about a month ago.

Now, after having partaken in a baby-making activity the other day (with no actual baby-making attempted), I get this silly, if-I-don’t-find-myself-on-a-toilet-the-instant-I-have-to-pee-then-I’m-peeing-where-I-am-phenomenon.

So I’m starting my kegels again. I’m thinking that the recent activity shocked the muscles and they’re saying, whoa, lady, we’ve got to take things slow here, or at least get squeezing!

Questions

Why is Cole not sleepy?

Why does my back ache?

Why does Genny not like me to take her photograph, but she’ll let other moms take it?

Why did I not appreciate my free time before I had children?

Why has the weather been so chilly even with global warming?

Why is Cole scratching my leg brutally and slobbering on my hand?

Tired

Something cute and fuzzy was munching on our corn stalks. We need to build a protective fence around our entire garden.

Tomorrow is Genny’s last day of Montessori school for the year. I’m looking forward to the cute graduation ceremony they do.

I was doing pretty well all day, but I’ve got a headache now. And, you know, I’m a bit exhausted.

It was chilly out today. In fact, I took Genny and Cole to Long Brook Park and Genny wanted to come home without playing because she had goosebumps.

That’s it. I’m absolutely dry. I have nothing to write about. I was writing all day in my spare moments. My eyes are tired of looking at the keyboard.

A Day

Cole continues to astound with his, “Maaa, maa, maaaaa.”

He also seems to have grown an inch in like two days. We had to raise his exercauser a spot.

He likes to practice standing with assistance.

And from his reactions right now, it seems as though he may have a future in computers. He’s practically leaping at the keyboard and his whole body is shaking.

My own mood is pretty okay today. Not manic. Not depressed. Just pretty focused on working and getting things done.

After dropping Genny at school, I took Cole to my home away from home, Starbucks, and I was able to get an hour worth of writing in.

After school, the three of us went to Target to buy diapers and cranberry juice.

I just came in from my daily stroll through our garden. It looks like we may have fresh lettuce every day forward from yesterday.

The Only Good Thing in My Life

Nick said I should call my blog post what I said about coffee this morning.

I don’t understand why it should upset my husband for me to say it. I obviously meant coffee is the only good thing in my life BESIDES my family. Besides, I mean, you can’t drink your family.

So, Cole said, “Mahm.”

Not Mom or Mama exactly, but he made the sound. And he knew he was doing something marvelous. He practiced at least three times for ten minutes. He put his whole being, body, and breath into it. He pushed out the sounds from deep in his belly.

He just said, “Mome.”

And now, “Uh-Mum-mum-mum.”

Okay, THAT sounded like, “Mama!”

Very cool.

I’m just saying

Today is Cole’s six-month birthday. He celebrated by screaming whenever we tried to put him down.

Right now he’s sitting on my lap making baby grunts and “uuunh” sounds. If I were to place him on his playmat, which is full of fun baby things like crinkly cows and mirrors, he would once again begin crying until his eyes wrinkled and his entire head and face turned red.

Not the makings of a peaceful day, or a day where one gets much done. I hate having high hopes for a day’s work and then having to settle for being thrown up on instead.

Wow, I am really being a crepe hanger today, as my grandma likes to say.

I just thought of something cute Genny picked up. The other day she asked me what something meant, I don’t remember what, and I said it was just a saying. Now when she says something that I don’t get and I ask, “What?”, she says, “Oh, it’s a saying, Mom.”

Beliefs

I’m sick and tired of being depressed. I can’t stand that I can’t just enjoy life. I want to be able to savor the moments with my children when they are young. I want to relish every smile, laugh, and baby poop.

I know there isn’t anything “wrong” with me, but that thought is always nagging at me. Like I’m supposed to be loving motherhood more. I’m supposed to not mind sacrificing so much of my own life for others. I’m supposed to survive on the joy I receive from others’ dependence on me.

But I don’t fall into that mindset like many other mothers may. But I still want to be a mother. And I really want to find ways to enjoy motherhood more. Perhaps this is enough for one day—to realize how I feel is fine and to want to find ways to gently shift my experience.

I really don’t like how I can’t stand up for my own beliefs sometimes. Why must I feel the way I believe people think mothers should feel? Why must I meet expectations when it comes to motherhood? When it comes to anything?

The same goes for my feelings about strippers. When I read people talking about strippers as if they are whores or dumb, I go through different emotions. Anger. Agreement. Sadness. Disgust.

It’s like my mind is constantly trying to figure out who I agree with, but I never find the exact right belief.

I’m just here. Me. Trying to figure my life out.

Mood Swings

I am considerably better today. I had phone therapy during which I spoke to my therapist about the possibility of my being bipolar. I have such massive mood swings. I physically feel unable to move when depressed, but when in my up state, my body feels like it’s fueled by baby hamsters running through my blood.

I’m hoping that this whole brain imbalance is simply from lack of decent sleep for six months. Perhaps when I begin getting a solid four hours every night I will begin to feel evened out emotionally.

I just took Genny and Cole for a walk. We probably went about a mile. It felt good to move and the added benefit is that Cole fell asleep. I now have some time to work on my project.

On a side note, one of my favorite pairs of pants would not close around my belly this morning. This, I do not like.

Stressed Out

You know how when you’re really stressed out and angry you can only focus on that and not write about anything else? That’s where I’m at today.

Cole was not happy all day. Crying and whining the moment he was set down. He had to be held. And he still does. Nick is holding him while he and Genny watch Kung Fu Panda.

Some days I feel like I can handle everything. Today, I feel like I can handle nothing.

At one point, trying to put Cole down for a nap, I sang, “I want to kill myself, kill myself, kill myself!” It was a rousing chorus.

My depression makes me feel physically heavy, unwieldy.

Tired. I want to pull the covers over my head. I want to call out for my mother to come and help me. And I do call out to her sometimes, but she doesn’t answer. Then I feel sorry for myself.

But the baby still cries. And I still get down on myself for not getting more work done. It’s a bottomless swirl where each depressing thought feeds the next.

I hope tomorrow I can lift my head up above and breathe.

Plunking Rain

Cole’s jammies are very green pea covered. He’s kicking his little feet against my thighs, chewing on his fingers, and saying, “Mmm, mmm.”

Cole should be sleeping. He almost was—twice. But it didn’t take and I gave up and brought him downstairs with me. Now he’s staring at the computer screen.

It’s so slow typing with one hand and balancing a baby on your lap with the other. Lately, he only is content when he’s being held, which cuts down on my work output. Although I am moving forward with a few new writing projects that I hope to be able to share with the world soon.

Now my hand is slopping wet. I may even have a baby hickie on my thumb.

Tomorrow we’re off to a wedding. I promised myself not to spend too much time picking out the dress I’m going to wear. I decided to wear the first one I tried on even though I’m not fond of how my belly pooches out.

Any day now I’ll be starting back with abdominal crunches. And yoga. I’m getting there. Thinking about it is a big start.

Kick to the Head

Bravo to this stripper in Florida!

There were many occasions when I wished to do what she did. After a slap on the buttocks, she kicked back.

Apparently, the customer had broken bones, even though the Cheetah manager said he came back later that same night for another beer.

If anything, the stripper should be suing the guy. Yes, that’s what she should do—countersue!

What a great way for her and the club to get major media attention.

I would gladly take the stand to support the need to kick strip club customers in the head when they slap you on the ass.

Some men think just because a woman is dancing nude that it means they are asking for it, whatever the “it” is that he feels like doing.

“Hey! If a naked woman if sashaying her naked stuff inches from my face, of course I’m gonna grab it!”

Hey yourself! That’s her job! She’s not there so you can grab her ass—she’s there so she can make some money!

Keep your hands to your own self (as Genny’s teacher would say)!

Tired

I was looking at photos of Genny when she was a baby. The similarities between her and Cole are striking.

Cole seems to have really discovered his feet tonight. He’s kicking his legs and shaking and grabbing his toes. And he’s all about making bubbly noises.

I’m feeling a bit under the weather. And I’m smelling Cole, who smells like a carrot.

Genny is watching a Barney video. Nick is on his computer.

My back hurts. I’m tired.

I did get writing work done today. I am content to end my day on this note.

Me, Groggy

Today I am determined to keep on working, even if I’m tired, even if I’m typing one-handed while nursing. The only way to change what I’m not happy with is to take actions to change it. In this case, the “it” is not having a published book. If I need to work when tired, so be it.

The children need tending, the house needs to be prevented from falling down, clean laundry must be made available, and food must be eaten. But that does not matter. I must keep moving forward on my creative projects, even if slowly.

And I am glad that I was there to see Cole take his first playground swing ride today.

I want it all.

I want motherhood. I want work. I want my husband.

I will have it all, even though it means being groggy for awhile.

To Be a Man

Today while I was cooking tofu and broccoli, I wished I was a man for the first time.

Through all the annoyingness of life as a woman, I don’t think I’ve ever wished I were a man before, but for some reason, stirring broccoli florets in salt and water, I did.

I suppose it had something to do with the seeming simpleness of the “male” tasks Nick was performing outside: bringing out the garbage, recycling, and watering the garden, while I tried to creatively cook the same thing I always cook. I had just gotten Cole to nap and Genny was in the living room sulking and moping for some unknown reason.

The thought just flashed through me all at once, “I wish I were a man and I could go to work, earn the bacon, come home and have my dear wife cook for me and watch the children.”

I thought it a curious thought as soon as it passed through me. I guess I was just feeling stressed and frustrated because I didn’t have time to do any creative work today at all. I so wanted to write and draw and study, but there simply was not time.

That is not true. During Cole’s long nap, I too napped instead of working, but he was up twice last night and then awake at six, so I was desperate for a rest.

I tell myself that I shouldn’t let tiredness be an excuse, but I know if I push myself, I end up sick.

Not having enough time makes me crazy. It makes me want to be a man for a brief moment, but then I remember how hard my husband works. It’s not like he’s rolling in time either.

Sigh. The struggle to have it all continues.

Anniversary

Today is our 4th wedding anniversary. We’re going to order food in and watch Red Dwarf.

Genny is staying at her grandparents’ house for the night.

I’m happy to say that I got some housework AND some creative work done today.

It is the day-in and day-out of writing that I love and also hate. I get in the zone and love the work, but I also wonder when my agent will find a publisher for my finished book.

I know at the moment all I can do is push forward with my new projects, but oh, how I’d like to put the finished manuscript behind me.

Prune City

A rainy, chilly day. At least we don’t have to water the garden.

Nick managed to leave work early, so we’re picking him u at the train at 7pm. We’ll go have some dinner for my birthday.

Tomorrow is our wedding anniversary. May is a busy month for us.

Speaking of busy, Cole’s bowels were active today. I think he had five prune poops. It looked the same coming out as it did going in.

He’s napping now.

Genny is making a tower with her princess fairy books.

Nana needs her smoke detector battery changed.

These are the facts of my fast-paced life.

Birthday Eve

Time for reflection on my birthday eve.

The birthday numbers are meaningless, I know.

I seem to keep track of my children’s ages more than my own now. I know my place in time through where they are situated. I wonder if that will always last. Or if one day I will again know myself through only me.

Probably never again will I be only me. And that is a wonderful thing, now that I think about it. Yes, I long for the time when I will have some alone time again, but it is beautiful to be a part of a family. There will always be someone there to love me. I have created my life into a world where I am surrounded by good and caring people.

My reflections tonight are good, peaceful, satisfying. I am happy where I am today. I have no regrets or fears as I move into my birthday this year.

Life is overly full, abundant.

I’m OK

Do my ears deceive me or are Genny and Cole seriously both in bed?

True, Genny’s not asleep, but she’s staying in her room at the moment. True, this is probably just a nap for Cole (and he’s in the swing), but he’s asleep.

Can it be that I have a few moments to myself before I collapse in utter exhaustion into the bed?

Well, actually, I have to make the bed before I can do that, and to make the bed I need to open the noisy sheet closet next to Cole’s room. Oh brother.

I’m proud to say that it feels like my depression is lifting today. Could it be that I’m actually not dreading this year’s birthday? Have I finally reached a place in my life where I can stop worrying about age and beauty and all that jazz in favor of just enjoying life?

I wouldn’t go crazy yet, but I think I might just get through this life happy.

I might be able to enjoy some of this motherhood thing.

Note to self: Remember to reread this post when I’m next stressed out.

Happy Memorial Day

I’m recovering from a migraine yesterday. There’s nothing like an illness to remind you of how important your health is. But then as soon as we are better, we forget.

I have not forgotten how valuable every day is yet, but I’m sure I’ll be wrapped up and worried about the mundane tomorrow.

I’m once again trying to get a few minutes of quiet to blog, but Genny keeps coming into the office and shouting into her Barbie walkie-talkie, “Daddy, where are you?!” while Cole blubbers on my lap.