Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Victory Confession # 3,4,5,6,7,8,

Victory Confessions:

#3- A pedestrian walked in front of my vehicle when there was NO crosswalk. Instead of honking,yelling, glaring the crap out of them and having a very strong desire to hit them---I only thought about doing those things while keeping a straight face.  Not thee biggest step in the world and there is a scripture in Proverbs 23:7 that talks about, so a man thinketh, so he is... or something.  Work in progress people...sanity and balance don't happen overnight. 

#4- Spent Thanksgiving surrounded by 50 some people and I didn't cry once. And when asked how I was..I said,"Great!" and meant it.
 
#5- Remember the dude in Confession #9 ? He had it coming.  Last time I saw him I didn't cry and told him I was making decision to better my life in the way I thought was best and that was none of his business and rude of him to call me a bad mother because he had no uterus. No uterus=no opinion.

#6-Instead of craving sugar and chocolate I crave running and pilates.

#7- I wake up in the morning excited that I woke up excited.


#8- The husband and I went on a date this past weekend and we couldn't keep our eyes off each other. Bliss.

 

 

Confession # 13

Confession:

I'm having separation anxiety.

The Unbalance:


Here's the dealio-- Baby P has gone down to nursing 4 times a day instead of the usual 12 when she was newborn.  She is eating solids constantly, hates her vegetables, so we let her drink Light V8 Fusion which she loves.  She just turned 10 months and is walking everywhere. You got it, there is a 27 inch tall baby running around.  I'm not one of those mom's that gets really sad that their baby is growing up.  I look forward to it.  I encourage it. I'm ready for it. The way I look at it is that the older she gets the more independent and self entertaining she becomes, which in turn gives me some time to catch my breath and try and feel 21 again.  But there is one tiny, itty-bitty, thing I'm having trouble with.....


I don't want to stop breastfeeding!  


Just for fun yesterday I thought, " I wonder if she'll take some formula?"  She's been stuck on my boob since the day she was born and every other time I tried it just to see if she'd take it, she refused.  So I made a 4 ounce bottle, sat her down on my lap and gave it to her. And she took it! I was shock-ed and a-maze-ed! When she finished the bottle she yelled at me until I made another one.  She downed another 8 ounces.  It was kinda fun for the first 4 ounces and then it wasn't anymore.  


I got jealous.  I was jealous that she was receiving something I'd given her the past 10 months and she liked it.  I guess if you're not a mom this might sound funny.  But there is something so emotional about nursing your baby.  Even if you don't realize it yet.  I got so sad that my little girl was at a point where she could live without me in that way.  In a way I feel completely unneeded and forgotten.  When she was eating from the bottle I had this aching feeling in my back like I was about to go sing in front of a huge crowd of people or see someone I hadn't seen in years. You know what I'm talking about...that nervous feeling. Anxious


Since the day she was born I've said that there is no way there is another baby coming sooner then two years.  Since having these feelings, it's the first time I ached to have another baby since Baby P was born.  When I expressed these feeling to the husband, he laughed at me and told me I was silly.  Which irked me.  I believe his exact words were, "HA! Well, let's not think about that now!.....you're funny."  

Was I trying to be funny? No. I wasn't.  I told him to throw away the sarcasm and be understanding. He tried people. He really tried.


Finding the Balance:

I know. I know. This is part of life as a mother. Moving on, growing up, transition.  This I totally realize.  But it's hard to tell my heart that when I have that kind of connection with my baby. I talked with a few mama's today and they told me that they felt that too.  It's definitely a hard transition.  But not to worry that it would pass.


I guess for now I'll keep nursing her and use the formula for traveling or when she is being watched by someone else.  


Ohhh the joys!  In the not so distant past I would of almost killed the husband for laughing at me and being sarcastic. Can you say SUCCESS!!!!!! Speaking of success.....uhh, I'll make a whole nother post about that. Give you something else to read since I've been such a slacker for the past month.

Monday, November 29, 2010

Confession # 12

Confession:

I haven't posted in awhile.

Ha. You totally knew that.  Let me fill you in on the past few weeks.


My anti-depressant has finally kicked in.  I feel like me again. 

I've been running everyday, except Sunday. Even in the snow. Really you ask? Yes, really!
  
I've been cooking a lot recently. Very strange for me.

  All of us had an episode of an awful cold, which has finally passed out of our home. While sick for the week I watched ALL 10 seasons of Friends in 8 days. Don't judge, greatest show ever. 


I've been able to look at my husband and think," I'm so glad you don't annoy me right now!"

I've had several encounters these past few months in helping other mother's cope and help overcome their own PPD.  I never thought I would say this, but I've been grateful for my suffering and the added insight it's given me to help other mothers.  I've learned that PPD manifests itself in different forms and that there is always someone going through it the same way.

Just stopping by to say I'm still here. Look for a new confession post within the next few days.



Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Victory Confession # 2

Confession:

I'm happy, not crappy!

One of the books I got at the library talks about positive affirmations. That's one of mine. Catchy right?..I thought so. So, the past few days I've been saying it over and over again, out loud.  I've been in a great mood the past few days, I've felt energetic and alive.  It's been great to feel the old me raging forward.  Funny story:

When I went running on Monday, I went by my self.  My nose usually runs and I'm constantly sniffing trying to keep the snot from running into my mouth.  When I can't stand it anymore I do a "Farmer blow" that's what we called it back home.  A lot of other people call it a "Snot-rocket" ...you know...where you plug one side and shoot the snot out the other nostril and then switch and do the other side.  This is the farthest thing from gross to me.  I grew up with people doing it around me all the time.  I remember seeing my Dad do it and I wanted to do it so I copied him and shot the snot right onto my shirt. No worries, I'm pro now. We would also do it during soccer games to distract the other players on the field.  We'd shoot it right onto their shoes and they'd fahh-reak out. Ahhhh, good times.


So running on Monday....I did the "Farmer blow" and when I looked up there were a group of boys playing basketball that stopped and were staring at me and making really disgusted faces. I looked at them and said, "What? You've never seen snot before? Would you rather me be polite and ask to blow it on your shirt?...I'm happy, not crappy!" ...and kept running.  And it was true, I was happy.   I thought I was rather funny and couldn't stop laughing, which resulted in me, getting out of breath and choking on ..well , choking on air. And I had to slow down.


I had a light bulb moment of sorts today during today's run.  I realized that I have all the tools to have a happy life.  It was like one of those moments where you've known about this "thing" your whole life but you internalize it for the first time and it changes your life. Yup, had one of those. Needless to say, I've felt great.


I'm mending.  I'm happy, not crappy.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Confession # 11

Confession:

Most days I feel broken.

The Unbalance:

Okay, yesterday was a down day.  I didn't explode on the husband or get upset about anything.  I was just sad.  The weird thing is I don't get sad about my life, I get sad about being sad and not going back to normal.  Last night I just laid in bed trying to remember what it felt like to be totally and completely content about my life.  I remember that I would have the occasional emotional day or just need a few minutes to cry but it was never like this.  

I've been buying some new make-up lately and trying some new things, I guess so when I look in the mirror I can feel satisfied, and prettier.  The husband came in and curled up next to me and asked what I was thinking and I told him.  He didn't say anything for a little bit and said, " I feel like you get things for yourself, (new car, make-up, clothes, etc.) hoping that they will make things better, but then after a little bit, you're back to being sad again. I think you need to focus on the root of what is really bothering you, instead of trying to replace it with temporary items."  It made sense. We got the car so that I could have the freedom to go do things during the day while husband is gone. I've mentioned having things planned for the day is really good for me. Like hanging out with girlfriends and chatting or going on a walk with another momma-friend and talking about out cuties. Problem is, people aren't available everyday for me to do that.  I have to go do things on my own and alone, which doesn't really make me feel better all the time.  

I explained to him about the make-up.  I honest to goodness don't do my make up in the morning so that when I go out to Wal-Mart I get boys to hoot and holler at me.  And I don't do it for my husband either.  If I did, I would never wear make-up, he likes my face much better without it.  I do it for me.  I look in the mirror and see an exhausted, stressed out woman with purple bags under her eyes and I don't like looking at that.  It's part of what I do during the day that helps it be a little bit better.  I'm not trying to be vain. Honest. I do it for me.

Husband's reply was, "So, you're not comfortable in your own skin?"
Me,"Not on my bad days."
Husband,"Well it sounds like you need to start loving yourself more."

But how do I do that?  When I'm in a depressed mood, how do I make myself realize my worth and importance? How do I remember and believe that there are going to be better days and that my life won't always be this way?  How do I do that?  I feel stuck. I feel completely broken.


Finding the Balance:

As I've been wallowing  in my disappointment, discouragement, despair and broken-ness. I got on YouTube.  I typed in, "Broken things to mend." And this is what popped up first.





"That the Savior's Atonement, lift's us, not only, from the burden of our sins, but also the burden of our disappointments, our sorrows, our heartaches and our despair....There can, and will be plenty of difficulties in life, nevertheless, the soul that comes unto Christ, who knows His voice and strives to do as He did, finds a strength, as our Hymn says, "Beyond Our Own" 

He also mentioned not yielding to fear, which I do every second of the day. Fear, that I will never be better, that I'll never overcome this, fear of an unhappy life.  

What does that do for me? Nothing.

What a powerful message that was for me.  As I sit in tears I will remember....

When I am lonely...I know I can find comfort. 
When I am discouraged....I know I can find hope.
When I am in poor in spirit.. I can be strengthened.
When I feel broken...I know I can be mended.

The husband told me I needed to be more thankful as well.

Thankful thoughts for today:  Thankful for the library and the four self-help books I got on depression and mood.  We shall become best friends. :) 


Thankful for the husband who never fails in telling me what I need to hear.






 
 

Confession # 10

Confession:

I got so mad I took my baby and I left.


The Unbalance:

I probably had the worst night I've ever experienced on Thursday.  Talking about this is rather hard for me mostly because of how I dealt with it and it's embarrassing. If you can bare with me through the bad parts, the end is good.  Sort of.



I woke up in a cheerful mood. Made breakfast, fed the baby banana apple yogurt, started some laundry, watched Dora The Explorer, then put the baby down for her morning nap, did my pilates, hopped in the shower, got dressed and ready, played with Baby P and worked on our sign language. (She is starting to sign "please" and "thank you". I'm quite proud of my polite baby.) Our neighbors knocked on our door and asked if I could watch their 16 month old while they moved out of their apartment, for a couple of hours. I said of course. Baby P was obviously excited because she had a play mate and I was thrilled thinking I could get some things done together while they played.  You mother's with more then one kid are probably thinking, "yeah, right. She isn't going to get anything done."  Well, low and behold, I didn't get a thing done. See, my baby is small, 16 pounds, 26 inches tall and quite petite.  (except her cheeks...they're huge.) This girl can really hold her own.  At church last Sunday a two year old boy took her binky from her and she climbed right up him, took back her binky and then pushed him over.  He started to cry and "P" just looked at me like, "What? He took MY  binky!" I apologized to his mom and she said, "Don't worry about it, he deserved it. Look at it this way, at least she can hold her own.  Hopefully she still has that quality when she's older when it comes to boys!"  

Anyway, I have quite an aggressive little one.  She wouldn't leave her play mate alone and she kept getting mad that she was being touched.  Needless to say I had my hands full and her parents were gone ALL day. Seriously. I thought it would be for a few hours. Nope. The whole day.  So after picking up a completely destroyed house. I told the husband I needed to take a run. I felt so tense and stressed.  I took off around the neighbor hood, taking my stress out on the pavement.

When I walked in the door my husbands eyes were fixed on the T.V. and my daughter had the blind cord wrapped around her neck twice and was slipping and she started to suffocate.  I immediately ran to her and picked her up and unwrapped the cord from her neck.  I turned to look at my husband and he just sat there asking me what was wrong. Can you guess what came next?...

The switch got flipped.

I started yelling about how careless he was being and wasn't even paying attention to her and what if I didn't come in the door right that second she could of choked or snapped her neck. I was furious.  He didn't even say anything.  Which fueled my anger even more. I asked him to turn off the T.V and he said, "Why?"..I lost it.

I started packing the baby up in her car seat and I left.


Once again I drove up to the temple and balled in my car. I was hyperventilating and shaking like a leaf.  I was given the suggestion by reader to hum in a low voice when I have an anxiety attack the vibration seems to help. So I started doing that. It helped. I pretty much did that for 30 minutes until I stopped shaking.


I drove home.  I came inside to a dark house.  Husband had gone to bed.  I woke him up and told him to come and sit in the living room with me.  He came out, sat on the couch and stared at the floor. I asked why he didn't say anything to me and just looked at me like he didn't care.  He told me no matter what he did or said, he knew it wouldn't make a difference, that I would still be mad.  Which, I think I've been in denial about.  I want to believe that he can say something or do something to magically get me out of my bad mood.  But honestly, everything he does still ticks me off. Then, I got more upset and kept crying.


Finding the Balance:

That is the real question. How do I Find the Balance with this?  


I got up and walked away, the husband immediately followed me, grabbed me and hugged me as tight as he could.  I just sobbed in his arms.  He grabbed my face and said, "This is not your fault. We're going to find the balance. I know it."  That comforted me, but that aching fear that this will never go away and I won't feel like myself again still sat in the back of my mind.  


So, for now, on my good days, I hold on to the the hope that my life will go back to normal and I'll become me again and pray that on my bad days I can remember that.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Confession # 9

Confession:

I cry when I don't mean to cry.

The Unbalance:

You know what I'm talking about.  When your talking about something that really isn't emotional for you and then all of a sudden you start crying and you can't stop.  Yeah, that happened today. And it just so happened it was in front of someone I really didn't want to see me cry, which normally results in spilling your guts about why your crying.  As I proceeded to give a watered down version of what I'd been going through the past several months I started to cry. I didn't want to cry. In that moment I didn't feel emotional.  But for some reason my body back fired on me and I started to cry.  When I said I was on an anti-depressant, I was instantly reprimanded for the choice I made.  I said that this was my last option, because I'd been suffering, alone, for so long and I didn't want to be the person I'd been.  For the next 5 minutes I was lectured. I felt like I was 15 and my dad was telling me how I did something wrong..yaada yaada yaada. During this whole time I was crying, not really listening, trying to make myself stop crying.

Well, needless to say, I left fast. Got into my car and headed to the bank where I proceeded to blubber through the intercom to the bank teller, she was sweet and asked me if I was okay, I'm not sure if she understood me as I was sobbing and trying to say, "I'm just so emotional!"  Completely embarrassing. I drove up to the temple to just sit and cry.  As I was having a pity party for myself, my sweet Baby P starting babbling and laughing at herself. And then I had quite an uplifting moment: 


I had a vision of my life in the future as a mother and saw two more of my sweet little babies.  As I saw myself with my children I could sense I would still struggle probably forever.  But then I felt the most amazing happiness..JOY even!  I felt that Heavenly Father was still aware of me.  In my spiritual DNA He built me to be a mother...no where within the strands of hormonal unbalance, stress, anxiety, plain ol' being overwhelmed,, and everything in between in that DNA did he put failure. He wants me to succeed.  He's there to help me to succeed.


Finding the Balance:

Well, can you guess what I did?  no?....

1. I focused on the good.

I started vocally saying my blessings. Healthy baby, supportive husband, loving family, nice home..


I know by taking an anti-depressant that I'm doing nothing wrong.  I did my homework about it and talked in depth with my Doc. It was the right decision for me. During my encounter today I was told the only thing that an anti-depressants do is mask the problem and that it won't take it away.  Well, I realize this. I know very well that my problems aren't going to go away by just taking a pill everyday. I started this blog. I started exercising on a daily basis and I'm seeking counseling.  I understand that if I'm not willing to help change the things I can control that I won't progress.



2. I LET IT GO.

Oh, you read that correctly.  I let it go!

As much as it P.O'd me that I was told all these things and it frustrated. It didn't change the fact that I made the right decision for myself.  So, I waved it good-bye.

3. I took a run.

Went on another 4 mile run with BFF Ames, which resulted in very uplifting and enlightening conversation. Thanks girl. :)

So although the middle of my day was a complete pain in the rear. I was able to overcome it. So this could be considered Victory Confession # 2? I think so.


I've decided when I'm judged for the choices I'VE made in MY life..those people really don't matter to me...and I move on with the same confidence I've always had.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Victory Confession #1

Victory Confession:

Exercise is where I found control.

How I found the balance:

Forgive my lack of writing this whole week. To be honest, I didn't have anything to write about.  It was the first week in almost 18 months (9 months being pregnant and these past 9 months after Baby P was born) that I felt like my old self and I was basking in that wonderful feeling. You wanna know what my secret is?.....I starting running. RUNNING!  
 
I've hated running my whole life.  I joined track in the 7th grade, mostly because everybody else was joining and after the first day of practice I wanted to quit.  I started coming up with a plan to fake an injury so I could get out of doing it, without actually quitting because, let's face it I'm kind of a quitter, but didn't want anybody to know that.  Well after a few more days of excruciating pain I told myself I was gonna fake twisting my ankle or my knee or something. Well, turns out, me being voted "Most Clumsy" my Senior year was right on track. During our stretches and pre-running exercises I tripped on my shoelace and my knee locked.  It was stuck for awhile and I had to go get an MRI, turns out, my cartilage was torn and I had to get surgery. I was ecstatic. Seriously, I was.  I was able to "be excused" from track and I got lots of attention because I had to be on crutches for awhile.

In High School I joined soccer.  Worst.Idea.Ever.  That's right up there with Track and Cross Country in the running department. What was I thinking? Well, I wasn't.  I joined mostly because the coach said, he didn't care if we were bad and that he'd teach us and it'd be lots of fun and my best friend was joining and I thought if she was there it wouldn't be too bad.  Well, ends up that my BFF was really good and usually played Varsity while I sat on JV and got yelled at by the coach because I sucked and wasn't fast enough.  I got into pretty good shape, but it never failed that everyday as I watched the clock reach 3:24pm I would dread getting my soccer gear on and going to practice.  I eventually quit half way through my Senior Year because I plain ole' didn't like it.  

My first semester of college I was going to take a fitness class and at the last second dropped it because I found out we had to run mile under a certain amount of time at the end of the semester, and I stressed so much about it I made myself sick and thought it would be best to quit (once again..surprise, surprise) Which resulting in me gaining 20 pounds and not fitting into any of my pants.

So you see, I've always hated running. And I'm still not a huge fan of it.  But I bought a jogger  three weeks ago and that kind of made the husband upset because Winter is almost here and I won't be able to use it until next Spring, he thought it was a waste of money.  So, to get back into his good graces I told him I would use it as much as possible now and I would start running a few times a week.  And I did.  I asked a friend to go along with me that also wanted to start running so every Monday, Wednesday and Friday we go to the park and run for at least 30 minutes.  

My dad let me in on a little secret to help you to start running without killing yourself.  Run for 1 minute, walk for 2 minutes. Do that for a week.  Then run a 1 1/2 minutes and walk 1 1/2 minutes. So, as the weeks progress increase your running time and decrease your walking time.  I love this because, I can go for quite a while without wanting to die, because I get a little bit of a break.  But I'm still keeping my heart-rate up and getting into shape.  I started this technique just this last week and my friend and I have been clocking 4 miles with every run. I am quite PROUD of myself!  And I have felt amazing.  I haven't been moody, or irritated. I haven't snapped at the husband and I've been joyful and grateful every second for the life I have.

Honest to goodness I thought I would be thee LAST person to run this regularly or to even promote running as a way to cope with the roller coaster of emotions us ladies go through. And when I'm running I don't absolutely love it.  But with each step that hits the ground I feel better and better.  And I know that I'm improving my life in more then just one way.  

A little bit of boasting time: I've been in a size 9/10 jean every since I can remember and I now fit comfortably in a size 6. I am also 16 pounds UNDER my pre-pregnancy weight.

Now, today is the Sabbath and we try our very best to keep it Holy.  We don't go shopping, or buy things, or go out to eat or get too rowdy with our friends because it's the Lord's day.  And today I didn't exercise and today has been a bad day emotionally.  My mother helped me to come to the conclusion that maybe some light exercise wouldn't be so disrespectful on Sunday because it really helps me to release the stress, anxiety, and negative emotions that bottle up inside me.  So I have concluded that Sunday morning I will do pilates.  If this is something that improves my mood, which in turn keeps the Spirit in our home (which affects my family, and those closest to me) I think it's only a good thing. 

Out of this whole mess of depression and mood swings and lashing out at my poor husband, which I feel completely out of control, I have found some control with exercising, and I'm going to take whatever I can get.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Confession # 8

Confession:

I had my first anxiety attack this weekend.

The Unbalance:

I experience a lot of anxiety but not the extent of having an actual anxiety attack.  But on Friday night the switch got flipped and I lost it.  I feel really embarrassed about what I freaked out about.

Last Tuesday we bought a new car. A white, Ford Explorer. We finally have two cars and the Explorer is really mine to use. It's a 2003 so its not brand new, but it's brand new to us.  The husband wanted to have a guys day on Saturday and take the Explorer and go explore some caves that are around where we live.

The night before he left I freaked out about him taking my brand new car.  I was worried about it getting dirty, him driving crazy, it getting stuck, and something horrible happening to it.

He kept telling me there was NO way our Honda would make it and needed to take my car to get there. I started getting upset and crying.  Then I started hyperventilating and shaking. Husband was really confused and was just staring at me.  We were lying in bed at 12 o'clock at night, and I got out of bed and just started pacing arond the living room, just fahh-reaking out.  

I broke down even more when I realized how ridiculous this all was. But I couldn't shake the anxiety of my car being taken. I kept telling myself over and over that this was stupid. It's not a big deal, why are you acting like a complete psycho?? 
NO matter what I did, it didn't go away. I just kept balling and breathing too fast and shaking. I eventually cried myself to sleep and woke up in the morning with a splitting headache.  I looked in the mirror and my face looked like a huge ball of puffiness.  And my eyes were blood shot.  

I knew I was back to a rational mindset and was totally fine with the husband taking my car.  

Finding the Balance:

I'm going to be honest and say, I have no idea how to help fix this.  I was in the craziest mind set and I honestly felt insane.  I hated that I was like that. 

I've been on my medication a month now and called my Doc to let her know how I was doing.  I told her I could tell it was working in some areas, but I was still having a few bad days.  She raised the dosage to, two pills a day instead of one.  Once again it'll take a few weeks for me to feel a difference.

When I'm not in those moods, I think "When, I'm in that kind of mood I'm going to choose to just not be that way, I'm not going to lets things bother me."  But when I get like that, I feel like I have no control over the way I'm feeling or thinking.  Rational thinking just flies out the window. I'm able to think, "this isn't a big deal, let it go." But I can't. I just don't know what to do..to make it stop in that moment.  

I suppose this is the biggest challenge I face that I can't find the balance with.  I guess striving to do those things in my daily that I feel like I can control and choose to be different...to be better.  One day at a time.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Non-Confession

I'm feeling the need to restate my purpose about why I have this blog.

I'm not here to tell people how to live. I'm also not here to be a "know-it-all"

I realize that I don't know everything. I am learning just as much as the next person.

I am trying to learn from my weaknesses and improve as a person. 

As I vent about my unbalanced life,  it helps me to overcome the thoughts, and feelings I have resulting from my Postpartum depression. I'm here to help myself move forward and be the best person I can be.  

I'm also having a little ...what's the word?...frustration when I'm around people that are reading my blog and they treat me like I'm broken.  I feel like they look at me like, "Poor, sad Kara. Her life is so hard."

Guys, I'm doing okay!  I don't have a problem talking about my problems with people. No one needs to talk to me like I'm fragile.  

This blog is a good place for me to see what I need to change and remember the things I've learned to progress to higher ground. :)

Friday, October 15, 2010

Confession # 7

Confession:

I feel like I should be "Holly Homemaker"

The Unbalance:

Because I'm a stay at home mom and don't have a pressing schedule to stick too, I obviously have time to do my household duties everyday.  But there are days when I want to be lazy, not shower, stay in my PJ's, snack on sugary goodness and watch mushy gushy movies all day or Harry Potter.

I should probably  be honest with you (and myself). The days I want to do those things aren't every once in awhile...they're....okay, they're everyday.  And I usually do that everyday.  I said it. There. I'm a lazy bum.  I always think, "Well, tomorrow is an open day, I'll just do everything tomorrow."  But then the next day I think the same thing and keep avoiding doing the dishes, vacuuming the house, sweeping the kitchen, folding laundry, exercising. etc..

When people ask me how my day was and what I did.  I totally try and make it sound like I've been super busy taking care of my baby.  Yeah, it's hard being a mom and taking care a little one.  But honestly, I have the easiest baby alive.  She usually plays by herself and just wanders around the apartment and explores.  So, really my day isn't busy.

As of late, I've felt a little overwhelmed with pressure of being some kind of "super mom and wife". I feel like a lot is expected of me. Getting up early. Always having every meal prepared. Looking my best. Being involved in a million in a half extra-curricular activities. Having the house pefect.  Doing all of the chores.

It's not like I don't want to do those things, I'll get to a point where I can't stand how many dirty dishes are in the sink, or how dirty the floor is, in the kitchen and I'll get things done. I sometimes feel like I need to be "on the ball" constantly.

Finding the Balance:

I have found that lists are miraculous things.  

First, with my PPD if I have a completely unorganized, chaotic day I go a little nuts and start to stress and get overwhelmed. If I make a list of things I need to do during the day, I have a visual reminder of what needs to be done and then I can cross them off. And at the end of the day whether or not I got it all done, those things I did get done, it's nice to see them crossed off and I feel accomplished.  

Second, if I want a "nothing" day, and just relax. I still make a list of all the relaxing things I want to do. For example, *Take a bubble bath. *dress in my super warm and comfy sweatpants.*Watch Pride and Prejudice, and She's the Man."  I guess it's my way of telling myself it's okay to have a down day.

And ya know? If I'm not a perfect homemaker, what's the big deal?  I'm really trying to be a good mom, I'm trying even harder to be a good wife and I'm taking control of the things in my life that need fixing. AKA: my PPD.  I have found when I'm doing all I can for my Heavenly Father, my daughter, and my husband, the rest falls into place and my desires change. I desire to have a clean home that I can take pride in, I desire to have meals prepared so my husband and I can have a nice, healthy meal. I desire to get things done and I enjoy it.

So, let's forget about "Holly Homemaker" and be who you want to be, be your best self. 

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Confession # 6

Confession:

I still feel like I'm 16.

The Unbalance:

I guess there is no "unbalance" about feeling 16. I suppose it should say I still act like I'm 16 sometimes.  Does anybody else feel like this?  One day you look in the mirror and you go, "How did my life get to this point? It seems like yesterday I was crying over a stupid boy, dreading a soccer game (and for good reason I got a black eye every single Thursday. not joking.) not finishing my homework on time, and getting in some kind of tissy-fit with my mom over not making my bed or not finishing my chores. Where has the time gone?

I'm 21, married and a mother.  


Since taking my medication, I think things are getting better.  I'm still having bad days. Yesterday was horrible. Granted I forgot to take my pill. (which ended up making the day horrible). I got upset at the husband again. But in Confession #1 I said I was struggling with thoughts of not wanting the life I had, not wanting a marriage with my husband (but I know those aren't my true desires). But I haven't had any of those thoughts, even when I'm upset. So I'm thinking the medication is working.


When I'm out and about running errands and when people look at me, I feel like there looking at a teenager. Because that's how I feel the majority of the time.  When we get together with our friends we get really loud and crazy.  When our house finally empties and we go to bed I lay there and think, "I shouldn't be that crazy. I'm an adult and a mother. I shouldn't have so much fun." I guess because of the stage of life I'm in right now, I feel like I need to act a certain way all the time. 


Sometimes I feel like I shouldn't have the life I do.


Finding the Balance:

When I have that thought, I am instantly reminded how blessed I am for life I do have.  I was married at 19 and became a mother 2 weeks before I turned 21.  But I have a husband who loves, supports and adores me.  I have a healthy, beautiful, daughter who has made my life feel so worthwhile. I have the knowledge that God has a plan for me.  And I have NO doubt that the choices I have made in my life, which have led me here, were the right ones!  What more could I ask for in life?  I don't think it gets much better then that. I also know that if we stay in tune with what God wants for our family, our joy and blessings will only increase.

As for being completely rowdy and crazy with our friends, why shouldn't I have more fun?  I need to let loose every once in awhile.  If my daughter is taken care of first I don't think there is any harm in letting go. I am a good mother. I deserve some crazy right? I think so!


It's all about priorities and taking care of the most important things first, and also having some fun along the way.  Life is meant to be enjoyed. And filled with love and laughter. So, when our friends come over on the weekends late at night, I'm going to welcome the feeling of being 16....for a short time. :)

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Confession # 5

Confession:

I'm a worry-wart.

The Unbalance:

I think you no the "unbalance" in this immediately. Worrying does absolutely no good. Especially not constantly. Over little things. Silly things.  I seem to worry about the little things and not the big things. Is that weird? 


Like I worry about getting the garbage out to the curb on time (which we totally spaced today)
I worry about keeping the house clean in case somebody happens to visit during the day. 
I worry when I'm driving and I know my exit is coming up and I'm in the wrong lane.
I worry that my baby will stop breathing in the middle of the night (I know this is a pretty lagitimate worry, but I worry about it ALL the time)
I worry about missing phone calls.
I worry about our grass getting mowed and what people think when it doesn't get done.

I remember having a conversation with my mom awhile ago and I was venting all my worries and when I was finished she said, "When did you become such a worrier? You weren't like this growing up."



Well, I can tell you the EXACT day I started worrying and WHY. It was a Saturday. May 16th. Can you guess?......


It was the day I found out I was pregnant.


A million in a half things were running through my mind and it only got worse as my pregnancy progressed. Mixed with hormones, and morning sickness, and heartburn, constipation, hemorrihoids (if you think that was TMI, then you shouldn't be reading this, we share ALL here!) and countless other uncomfortable things.


When she was born. My life froze and I was unequivocally happy. I have never felt so much love for one person.


Then we came home.


Annnnnd the worrying started again! It's like this never ending cycle of making yourself go crazy!


I'm not worried about our future. I'm not worried about money. I'm not worried about making big purchases. I worry about the things that make absolutely no difference how they turn out. 


I think having PPD magnifies these things into bigger issues for me. Making them seem like really big deals when they just plain old don't matter.  I mean getting stressed about not being in the right lane to make your exit?? Seriously???

Finding the Balance:

There was/is a saying in my house growing up that I absolutely hated.  It came from my poppa who thinks about life very logically and rationally.  He wouldn't let emotion so much effect the way he made decisions.  And it was frustrating for me, as a teenager, to have him tell me what to do with my emotions, especially since I didn't feel like he really understood what was going on in my head. But now, I realize, my dear father was right all along. The saying is:


If you can't do anthing about it, don't worry about it.

So, when I'm going through a major life crisis, or something small and insignificant I ask myself, "Can I do anything about this right now?" And if I can't I let it go. Well, I at least try. 

I understand that it is not that simple. Especially when it comes to women, when, as I've said before, we bring emotion into everything and let it run our lives and how we act and treat people etc...

But it's a pretty simple way for me, to not be such a spazz.  So, if you're anything like me and are a worry-wart.  And all the little things seem to bother you or even the big things. Ask yourself, "Is there anything in my power, that I can do right now to change this or make it better?" If you can fix it, then fix it. If you can't, then you can't.  We shouldn't expect ourselves to be perfect and get everything right and do everything all at once.  And I truly believe that God doesn't expect that from us either. Christ was perfect and we are suppose to follow His example but does that mean perfection is required of us right this very second?  NO WAY!!  I think He just wants us to try. 


We just have to take one worry at a time and slow down for a second. So....


Breathe with me......ahhhhhhhhh.



Monday, October 11, 2010

Confession # 4

Confession:


I had a really bad weekend.

The Unbalance: 

 My sour attitude of a weekend started on Friday when I was doing laundry. I did a load of darks, which consisted of the husband's black socks. I hate his socks. There's always a handful of extras.  I don't think I've ever been able to pair all of his socks up so there aren't any left over. And for some reason, that time, it made me mad.  Ridiculous? Well, in that moment, I didn't care. Let's be honest here, I wanted to throw a tantrum.

Later that night we celebrated our 3rd anniversary for our first date at Taco Time.  Which was equally disgusting as I remember it was the past 2 years we've gone.  We dropped the baby off at  my brothers and we went our separate ways. I was having a girls night and the hubs was having a guys night. I took my frustrations out on shopping. (not the greatest idea) Got a few things for myself, but mostly new outfits for my baby girl.  (This time I felt better spending mucho money) We headed back home, and picked up the babes.  When we got home everyone ended up at our house, as usual, on a Friday night. I checked in for the night before everyone left. 

Saturday started out as a good day.  The husband had a lot of work to do and I tend to bother him when we're all home together. So, went and hung out with some friends for most of the day.  After he finished his work, I came home and when I walked in the door he was playing a game. My husband is a computer gamer. I don't allow video games. To me, they are the biggest waste of time. Despite him asking me if it was okay to play, it still bothered me.  The house was a complete mess, toys were everywhere, dirty dishes lined the counter in the kitchen, and the house smelled funny. I immediately started picking everything up, frustrated, once again feeling the expectation for him to read my mind. 

So, with what little self control I possess, I kept my mouth shut, and tried not to slam cupboards and doors, at least not too hard.  We had dinner and then at 10pm are friends came over again. I was a bit stressed at this point, because, well I was in a bad mood. I was just informed (at 8pm) that I had to teach Primary the next morning. And I didn't have any supplies to come up with a craft and I was craving chocolate. So imagine if you will, 8 EXTRA people in my apartment, with a very wide awake baby, completely unprepared to teach a lesson in the morning to a few 3 year olds and one 6 year old who probably won't listen very well anyway, craving chocolate and just plain old crabby. 

I was on the brink of destruction and I was going to take everyone down with me.
Thankfully, the husband went to the store and bought me some supplies and came home and made me no bake chocolate, peanut butter cookies I think by the way I was shaking and pacing back and forth he could tell I was getting really stressed and I was about to have a break down. Thankfully someone else noticed and quietly asked me if was getting ready for everybody to leave. I gave a quick, "YUP." with I'm sure some kind of look to the effect of, "Um, yeah you should of asked me that when you got here." And they were gone.

When we were alone, I yelled at the husband to clean the kitchen, because he made a huge mess and NEVER cleans up. (I was sooo throwing a tantrum). I put the baby to bed and laid down on the couch and cried. Husband came over, asked me why I was upset. So, I told him. He proceeded to apologize if he caused any of my frustrations (in all reality NOTHING was his fault, but in the midst of my rage, I took it out on him, therefore making him think he was in the wrong.) But he's catching on quite nicely don't you think? 


He proceeded to feed me the no bake cookies we didn't even make into cookies, with a spoon. 


The next morning I was all in a rush to finish getting my lesson prepared and stomping around the house, while the husband kept asking me what he could do to help, so I kept giving him jobs, which he'd finish insanely fast, then ask what more he could do. I rushed out of the house and headed to church. It was fast Sunday.

Finding the Balance:
 
During my lesson these small little children somehow brought me back to a sane mindset, and humbled my perspective on the childish attitude I had been exuding the past couple of days.  I get so caught up in how I'm feeling, I completely forget how I'm acting, how I treat people and how it overall effects the spirit of our home. Once back to my normal state of mind, I feel horrible and commence with my ritual of asking for forgiveness and apologizing emphatically to whoever I exploded on, which is usually my husband. 


I've been trying to think of ways to "find the balance" when I get in these little fits, and can find a way to help myself out of it before I hurt other people.


And during sacrament meeting while several people were bearing their testimonies of the Savior, I had an epiphany. There is something way better than balance- there is The Love of God. There is the knowledge of knowing that even when I throw these tantrums, spend to much money, yell at my husband, and get upset over nothing He still loves me. He still wants to bless me, and He wants me to feel His love.  And I want to do whatever I can to feel that love. So what will I do?


* I'll try and see what He wants me to see.
*I'll focus on the good things in life instead of the imperfections.
*I'll accept His love and His infinite patience and His help with my strivings (and I mean really really really striving)  to do better.
*I'll trust that He knows how the pieces of my unbalanced life will all fit together to work for my good and...
*I'll keep moving forward, one step at a time, so I can claim the blessings He means for me to have.



Friday, October 8, 2010

Confession # 3

Confession:

I dropped out of college.

The Unbalance:

What was your first thought thought when you read that?
"That's not smart of her to do that"
"You have access to a high quality, low coast education and you're not going to take that?"
"What if your husband dies? What are you going to do since you didn't get a degree?"

Let me tell you the story.

I've mentioned not really excelling in my academic studies while I was in High School and it was no different when I got to college. I always struggled, mostly with tests. After the husband and I got married in April 2008, we headed back to school.  At the beginning of June I started getting sick and I was put on bed rest. Each week I would get worse and each week, the doctor told me to stay on bed rest for another week.  I had to quit my job, I fell behind in school, like way behind. By the time I could actually get out of the house and feel like I was functioning properly I had missed half the semester. I was failing all my classes.  I went and talk to the academic office to see what I could, to see if I could defer this semester and kind of start over. They told me that was impossible and that I would probably get kicked out. Trying to figure out what to do that week, I just about went crazy.  Every day I thought about dropping out, but worried about what to do with my life. I didn't have a job or any prospect of getting one, we weren't planning on starting our family for at least another year, so what would I do?


I was a complete mess. I probably spent more time down on my knees then anything else, trying to get some kind of guidance.  Then, one day it finally came! I knew the right thing do was to drop out. 


Not gonna lie though. I was terrified.  I was constantly being told that if I wasn't in school, that I needed to be a mom. And if I wasn't going to be a mom, that I needed to be in school. And what would I do with my life if I wasn't doing any of those things. I wasn't progressing, I was feeling a lot of pressure to do and be what everybody else thought I should be.  


So, despite not knowing what I was going to do with my life I took a leap of faith and followed that prompting.


For the next two months were the most most awful months I believe of my life.  I just sat at home literally doing nothing. Have you ever heard of Stargate? It's a SyFy show that my husband loves. It has aliens, and space ships and alternate realities. It has 10 seasons. Well, I watched all 10 seasons.....in 2 weeks. I also went and bought a beta fish, which we called Zoey (and later we figured out it was a boy) and I started talking to it. Like having conversations.  So now you see... crazy..and no life.none.zero.nada.


In October I FINALLY found a job that was great for me. I was making enough money to support us and I was able to meet new people everyday. But I was still struggling.  People that came into the office would ask what I was doing with my life. They'd ask if I was going to school or they'd get a little more personal and ask when we were gonna have kids. I felt like everybody was unsatisfied with my choices. So when they'd ask me, I would lie and say, "I'm just taking from school, I'm gonna go back soon." Knowing, that I wasn't on a break and that I wasn't going back.


That's where the unbalance began.  I was so concerned about what everybody thought about me, that I forgot I had made the right choice for ME.


Finding the Balance:

Once I started working more and accepting and realizing and of course living that I had made the right choice. I wasn't afraid to tell people, that I dropped out of college and I'm not planning on going back.  

We are too focused, for some reason, on what other people think of us and what other people expect from us. Why do we do that?  Why do we care so much about other people's opinions?
When, really we should be concerned about what our Father in Heaven wants us to do. It's hard, sometimes to do that. Because, physically, God isn't with us all the time. But we're surrounded by others all the time, that have there own opinions, so I think it's easier to focus on that. 


We just need to change our focus.


So, I, without any fear tell all who ask, that I dropped out of school and it was the right decision for me. Is there a chance that something could happen to my dear husband? Maybe.  Am I going to be presented with opportunities that I want to experience, but I won't because I didn't finish school? Most likely.  But I have faith and confidence in the fact that God has led me to where I am today and I have a pretty fantastic life. So I have no doubt in the future He still take care of me.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Confession #2

Confession:

I expect my husband to read my mind.

The Unbalance:

Am I asking too much?... ok, probably. But in some small, and I'm sure ridiculous way, I feel justified. This Friday, October THEE 8th my husband and I went on our first date and began our journey of love, laughter and let's be honest here LOTS of miscommunication.

So, after knowing someone for 3 years, 2 1/2 of those years have been spent married, you'd assume that you would know each other pretty well.

Be able to finish each other's sentences.

Know, by the look on their face, how their day went.

How they like their undies folded.


How, one of you has a little bit of an OCD problem and has to buy everything at the grocery store in even numbers and that you don't argue about it. Ever.


You get the jist right? Ok.


My husband does not fall under this category. Each day feels like I'm trying to get to know him all over again and I'm trying to explain my life to him like on our very first Taco Time date.  Most likely because he's working on the computer or doing his homework.  So everything I say goes in one ear and out the other. Actually scratch that. I think my words travel across the room to his ear, hit an imaginary wall and then fall to their death, where I have to revive them later and try to force them back into the very ear that killed them. Tragic I know. Common? Every day of my life. My poor words march to their death like those flies that get snatched up by that Venus Fly Trap.  Lost forever, until the next day where another innocent fly meanders about and the same harrowing thing happens again.


So, who's to blame for making me expect a mind reading husband?


I blame romantic movies, at least in part.


Have you seen the movie Only You? It's about a girl who is convinced her soul mate is man with a certain name that she heard from a fortune teller.  She flies to Italy to find him, and another guy falls in love with her, but sees that she is determined to play this soul-mate thing out.  So he agrees to help her find the man.  They track him down at a hotel, and she sets up a date, and the guy who loves her (her true soul-mate) buys her a gift for the date. It's a pair of shoes. They are the right size. They are the right color. They are the right style. They are exactly the perfect shoes for the outfit she is planning to wear. Cinderella herself could not have possessed a more ideal shoe.


What man in the world can do this?!?!?!


This why those movies are so popular, by the way-because we all want to believe there is someone out there who could discern our every need, sometimes fulfilling needs we didn't even know we had.  And so we fall in to the trap of "If I have to ask, it doesn't count." or "If you really loved me, you would know what I wanted."


I also blame the way us females think. I think sometimes...(ok, most of the time) we get caught up in our emotions running our lives and we start to assume everyone this is way, running their lives with complicated emotion, I'm starting to realize though, men don't think this way. Possibly ever.


The other day I had a MEGA-breakdown. Something very silly and unquestionable NOT my husband's fault mad me upset.  Part of what I struggle with, with my PPD, is that I get fuming mad at the flip of a switch, most often over very menial things.  When we arrived home I informed my husband I was upset at him and felt like screaming. After a few hours of only a handful of words, I told him I needed to get out of the house and be alone for a bit and he told me to go take a drive.  I somehow arrived at K-Mart, where there were only a few people wondering the aisles as aimlessly as I was.  I bought some new jeans and a new hat, because I've decided to become a hat person.


Upon buying these things, (which by the way-didn't make me feel better) I got back in the car and headed home where dinner awaited me.  We ate in silence and my husband just stared at me.  When we were finished he asked me, "What's wrong? Why are you so mad and sad all the time?" Which began the waterfall of tears. I told him I didn't even know why I was this way and I was as confused as he was. I told him I felt terrified I would never overcome this roller coaster of emotion I'd been on and be myself again.  I went and laid down in bed where he followed me and let me stain my pillow with mascara.  I told him I couldn't explain it and asked him to say something, anything to help me feel better. He said, "I feel like everything is my fault."


Okay, now this was the wrong answer.


I try hard not to be a selfish person, but during this moment I felt entitled to be. I needed him to focus on me. I cried even harder. I went to grab my phone to call my mother who, without fail always has something wise to say that makes me feel better. When Will grabbed me and said, "Talk to me! I want to help! What do you want me to do?"


Finally my moment had arrived. I had an answer that would solve all our problems.


"I WANT YOU TO READ MY MIND! I'M STRUGGLING AND YOU DON'T SEEM TO BE LISTENING! ALL I WANT IS SOME SYMPATHY HERE!'


Then, miraculously, my husband showed up and get this...COMMUNICATED with me!


PRAISES!!


He said exactly what I needed to hear, and gave me some very easy, uncomplicated advice that made me give him kisses.


Think of this:


When I start stacking up empty milk cartons and cereal boxes until they perch unnaturally two or three feet about the brim of the kitchen garbage can, waiting for my husband to take it out to the trash.  After knowing each other for a mere 3 years, I have learned that my husband would do just about anything for me.  He runs hard and fast, like a train on a track, and the only problem is that if the track doesn't happen to go past the garbage can, he genuinely doesn't see the trash piling up.  So, I say, "Honey, could you please take out the garbage?" and he says, "Sure." And he does it. MIRACLE!


I admit part of me, really wishes he would just the initiative and look for things like that. But alas, I don't have a mind reading husband.


Finding The Balance:

Let's pause for a moment and take a second to think about this little incident.  Picture a scale if you will and put my silly tantrum on one side of it.  Now, on the other side, put a husband who honors his priesthood, who loves and serves the Lord, who works everyday at a slightly demanding and time consuming job, and who goes to school full time so that I can be home taking care of our daughter, who loves me enough to let me have some alone time when I need it, and who values my role as a mother and honestly wants to help me through my PPD.  Put all those things on the other side of the scale and you tell me, Do you think things are in place?  Do you think, in fact, that this might be my soul-mate after all?

In most relationships there's a whole bunch of good along with a pretty hefty dose of not-so-good. I think when we choose to focus on the good, it becomes easier to see each other as I believe our Father in Heaven sees us. And that my friends, is a much happier way to live.


So, do I wish my husband could read my mind? Yeah, that would be great.  Should I expect him to read my mind when he honestly doesn't have a clue what's going on? Nope, not ever. I confess, however, on my bad days it's really really hard to remember that.