Good Way-Too-Early-In-The-Morning!

My son is so beautiful.
I am sick of looking at him.
He needs to get out of my bed at 2 in the morning.
I need to parent him out of my bed. But it's 2 in the morning.
And he is so beautiful when he's sleeping. Plus, he holds my hand.
But he needs to get out.

It isn't even 8am, and we both need a nap. I don't nap well anymore, so I will probably play sudoku and watch crappy cable tv. I'll doze on and off, and that is the closest I'll get. (Watch - now that I've said that, I'll sleep like a corpse.)

Project Runway tonight. I am seriously impressed by people that talented (ahem, Natalee). I wish SO BAD that I could do it. I would be modest couture. I'd blow them away. I'd be all over the red carpet. I wish I'd dream about this rather than my teeth falling out, again. Or at least dream about "The Thirteenth Tale" like Leslie.

Welp, (I always say that, so I might as well type it, although it looks stupid. But say it out loud; I bet I'm not the only one who says it), that's it for today. Or at least for too-early-today.

Remember the good old day?

You know, yesterday.

Because today was nothing like the golden memories of yesterday. As predicted, Gabe was bored with everything, and I was not interested in playing two-year-old games. He was grouchy and tired from getting in our bed at 2:30 this morning. (NOT a common occurrence). Ditto for me.

Claire said today was great, and then promptly had consecutive meltdowns about every gol-darned thing from 3:30 to 5:30 pm. She spent most of that time screaming and kicking things in her room.

Gabe spent that same time frame fussing and picking at everyone else. So he was screaming a lot, too.

I fell asleep on the couch at that point. Snotty Kid Overload, I think it's called. Andy took Charlotte and Gabe to the store with him. Claire is suddenly in a good mood because she gets full run of the tv, and she took over Gabe's blanket fort.

PRAISE TO CHARLOTTE AND HARRIS FOR BEING ANGELIC!

I wonder what tomorrow will bring (typed with much sarcasm and eye rolling)?

Verdict: Awesome

That is the exact word used by both Charlotte and Claire when I asked them about the first day of school. I'm relieved and really happy for them.

The day with Gabe was interesting. We did everything together, as you can imagine, and it caused him to be UBER cuddly. Naturally, I loved it. And I thought, "Is this going to last? Is he gonna be sick of me tomorrow? Am I gonna be sick of throwing this ball and online coloring and making pillow houses?" Um, yes to that last one. I will be sick of it. I'm interested in seeing what the days are like once we settle into it. Still, he laid his head on my shoulder the entire time I pushed him around in the Walmart cart. Nothing beats that.

Now, if I can only do it again tomorrow.

Is tomorrow the first day of school?

Doesn't feel like it.

I didn't take the meds this morning, and, what d'ya know - I'm not nauseated. I love proof.

I love Primary. We all know this. Today, however... Today was about the craziest I've ever seen it. Good luck in there, my friends, cuz I'm just a sub.

I'm actually beginning to think that subbing might be my thing. Step in here, help out there, no real commitment or obligation. Hey, I'm on to something! It's like babysitting, which I like to do. Nothing permanent, ability to decline, perfect, perfect, perfect.

Alright, folks. I don't have anything else to say. I don't feel like my entire daily life is going to change in the morning. And by that I mean home all day alone with Gabe. Yipes. Good luck tomorrow, peeps.

Morning Sickness

And I ain't even pregnant, y'all.

I'm suffering from nausea from this new drug. It feels just like morning sickness. I thought I was through with that mess. I'm back to eating plain bean burritos like I do at the beginning of my pregnancies. I'm drinking powerade and dry heaving in parking lots and my yard.

My experience with side effects is mostly that they abate after awhile, so I'm keeping at it. I'll change from taking them in the morning to taking them at night (Hey! Just like prenatal vitamins!).

Pharmaceuticals

I had the pleasure (sarcasm, y'all) of visiting Shrinky-Dink yesterday. Stuff ain't right around here. Plus my refills were gone.

I actually cried. She looked very sympathetic. I know I dog on her a lot, but she is really nice. Perhaps I'm secretly bitter about having to go. Nah. I just get annoyed with Front Desk Debbie, and it is a hassle and pretty expensive. Never mind.

Here we go. Diagnosis: mixed episode. I got depression and mania going on at the same time. No wonder I've got everything screwed around. (I'm thinking of a lot of undercover swears that would anger my mother. Like bass-ackwards and fit hitting the shan.) We are adding two new meds. One for depression plus another mood stabilizer to prevent the anti-depressant from pushing me into mania. Trial basis of course. It's basically educated guessing. Or scientific process if you prefer. Boils down to me being cranky, paranoid, blue, frustrated with myself, no self-esteem, restless, hyper-caffeinated, and fatigued with weird sleeping and eating patterns. (I was about to type "Like you people care. I sound like an old person listing off my aches and pains. Sorry." But I guess that sentence defines itself as well as most symptoms listed above. Sorry.)

The upside is that Shrinky-Dink was actually wearing a heart dangle ring. Along with nine (9) other accessories. I counted. She has changed to a new decorative pattern on the laptop. It's not as glam. Huge earrings. I think I saw Bea Arthur wearing the same ones on Golden Girls last night. Plus, and this is amazing, she was ON TIME. Shrinky-Dink, not Bea Arthur.

Holy snap!

Project Runway is BACK! The new season premieres Thursday at 10e/9c (I threw that eastern time in there for you Ransom) on it's new channel Lifetime!

Do I sound like a sound clip or what?

Post title courtesy of Claire.

Home Again Home Again Jiggity Jigg

I went out of town (AGAIN, you say?) for my brother David's wedding. It was wonderful and really fun, and I am really grateful that my long suffering husband and kids didn't even whimper as I walked out the door for the third time this summer. Actually, being at the wedding was incredible, but the fact that they will be here this week makes it better since we all know nobody gets to visit with the bride and groom the weekend of their wedding.

Okay, so I'm back. Let's get situated:

Claire is actually, factually registered for school. We even have a meet-the-teacher later this week, so that makes it super-official. She's scared to go, and she gets more scared every day. Thank goodness there is only one week left or she'd be a dribbling catatonic shell by the first day. I'm confident that she'll get over it quickly. Probably by the end of the first day. I feel for her in the interim, of course.

I have yet to buy stamps or go to the shrink (or make the appointment), but I feel like that is something that tomorrow can handle.

Family Home Evening is another story. It is the last one before school starts, so I really want to focus on that. However, Andy may be out of town over night. We just don't know. I really want him there for it, of course. Rollin' with the punches on that one, I guess.

I felt very grown-up this trip because I drove myself to the airport, parked the car for three days, and then drove myself back home (obviously) when I returned. Very fancy. I even walked directly to my parking space! I remembered to pull out cash to pay for parking on the way out. I was in possession of the parking ticket I got when I came in three days earlier. I mean, I was on a ROLL! (Off topic: Andy was opening a box of chocolate covered oreos I brought back for him from Rocky Mountain Chocolate, and, as Claire waited breathlessly for them, she whispered, "Holy snap!") If it weren't for that ridiculous 10 minutes that found me in the lanes for credit card checkout and something called airport ez tag checkout. Apparently, I didn't qualify for either of those. So, I turned around and went out the do not enter lane, back through the parking garage to my recently-vacated parking space, and started over. I made it down to the correct cash-only lanes, but I was made. The attendant had watched the whole thing as I backed up and pulled into lane after lane, been rejected, did a U-turn, and went out the one way lane. I think he was trying to let me save face by not mentioning it, but I saw him see me, so the jig was up. Other than that, though, I was golden.

And, here's the biggie: I traveled without luggage! I wore my wedding outfit (same as the church outfit, kids) with my shorts underneath, my flip flops, deodorant, toothbrush, meds, mascara and lipstick, phone charger, and two pairs of undies were in my purse. That's it! I was staying with my family, so I knew that there would be makeup and hair stuff there. Of course, I didn't count on Sarah and Liz being so hostile about sharing, but at least my mom and Mary were friendly. I routinely sleep in my clothes and wear them the next day, so spending three days with one outfit aside from the wedding clothes was perfectly normal. Yes, yes, I could've taken a carry-on. But then could I say that I traveled without luggage? No, I could not. And that makes all the difference.

If I were rich...

... I would never carry my groceries again. EVER.

Bipolar appreciation

It's not what it sounds like. It's my kids.

In the car, I'm greatly appreciated as soon as I turn on the radio. I can be riding with my kids for 6 hours, and they entertain themselves in the back seat. As soon as I turn on the radio, they have 40 questions each. Here's how it goes:

"Hey Mom, can you turn on the music, please?"

Click.

"Hey Mom, blah blah blah?"
"Mom, blah blah blah."
"Mama, garble garble garble!" (That's Gabe.)

Click off.

"Answer," "Answer," "Answer."

"Hey Mom, can you turn on the radio?"

Click on.

"Mom, blab blab."....

Click off.

"Kids, do you want the radio on, or do you want to talk? Because I can't hear you with the radio on."

"We want the radio!"

Click on.

"HEY MOM!"


Here's where I am completely unappreciated:

This morning, the tv was off, the kids were on the computer. So, I sat down to play the piano. They come running in with requests. The Little Mermaid won. So, I'm playing "Part of Your World," and they ask me to please sing, too. This, in itself, is a cue that things aren't going to end well since I sound nothing like Ariel. Okay, though, I sing. About two phrases into the song, I hear the tv click on. Another couple phrases and I hear the volume turn up. I can take a hint. I stopped playing and started blogging.

Well, It's August.

My stress levels are through the roof. I'm not good at this. Life, I mean. I totally suck. I'm surprised my life visa hasn't been revoked. I'm low, low, low on the emotional totem pole.

Church today started helping. I say started b/c as soon as I got back home, I began to lose the perspective I had gained. There was a heavy dose of coping with trials in all the lessons and testimonies offered at church. Rather, peace that comes amidst trials. And I thought, "Okay, here we go. We can do this Jen. We can keep an eternal viewpoint. We can appreciate that these are small trials for only small moments."

But then, well, I am with me again. Real me. Weak, exhausted, scared me. I don't know who that "we" was talking to me in the last paragraph, but she jumped ship somewhere in the 8 minute drive home.

What the crap am I doing wrong? Oh, I know - I'm sucking at meaningful scriptures and prayer. I'm being a less-than-present mother. I'm being (perhaps) not as well medicated as I thought.

On that subject - perhaps I was better medicated before. Sometimes, medications only work for a while. And then, who knows, they stop being effective. Then, the rigmarole of finding the right cocktail. And thinking, "I know the right cocktail! Rum and Coke!" Not that I've had rum and Coke, but it sure sounds like a humdinger of a combo.

I'm sad about things, and I'm stressed about things. I'm sad my friend moved away. LOSER! I'm stressed that I have obligations to fulfill in a limited time frame. I'm scared that I'm not capable of fulfilling those obligations. I mean, I can't even keep a thought in my head! Have you tried talking to me lately? I can't remember my kids' names. I'm being dead serious. I have a 10 second pause where I'm trying to remember the name of whichever child I'm trying to speak to. My memory is shot. I feel out of control.

Hey, this sounds like mania.

My prescription is up this month, which means back to the Shrinky Dink. She better fix this nonsense.

Oh, and then there's the ever-present ... ...crap! what is the word!!! ... ... s&^%&. The ever-present insert the word that I can't think of of wondering how much is really mental illness and how much is learned behavior and how much is laziness and weakness and, well, whatever else.

DAGGUM! I can't think of that stupid word and I feel like crap! THIS is what I'm talking about, people. This exact thing! I used to have a great vocabulary! Now I can't remember

CONUNDRUM!!! The ever-lovin'-present conundrum.

I hate this.