Keeping Up With The Times?

I keep getting notifications that my blogger setup is all messed up. Wrong widths and gadgets that don't work. Or widgets? I don't even know. Some crazy shit about ads. Ads that have generated about $34 of revenue in the past 5 years. Lolololol. And they only pay out when it hits $100. Hopefully it'll be good to go by the time the baby is ready for college.

I started this blog years ago, when I was living in Ontario, for shits and giggles. I had really enjoyed reading a few other peoples' blogs and thought I would write the stupid things that came to my mind.

I actually researched and figured out how to personalize the template and add some "flair" so people might be able to find certain content when they search google. Now... now I have no idea what is what. I'm scared to restore to plain blogger because I may lose all my stuff. You know, all the stuff that no one reads anymore unless they happen upon the site by accident, or a disappointing Google search.

Anyway, if anyone still enjoys reading this and can't seem to actually view it on your computer or phone, drop a comment and I will actively try to re-educate myself to right it. Otherwise, I assume it is good enough because I am exhausted, lazy and short on time.

I do want to start writing again. I know just about every blogger who starts to collect dust will write that on their newest update after 6 months, but I do miss it. I'm trying to shift my thinking to not be so mean to myself, but that really doesn't make for fun reading. And this was never intended to be a blog about parenting, but it just so happens that it has become the only thing that I do all day, so obviously my content is going to be skewed.

Ah well.

Writing is good for me, so I should put more of an effort in. The nightly hour(s?) of scrolling Instagram aren't particularly helpful to my overall outlook so maybe you will see me back again soon.

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Wistful but lucky... Depression and two kiddos...

I really want to get back to writing. I miss having a creative outlet.

Just wanted to get some feelings down now, but Baby X has consistently woken from his nap whenever I have opened up Blogger.

Here goes nothing.

With Baby X over a year now, it's kind of crazy. I know I have love in my heart for more kids, but realistically I don't think I could handle more. My depression and anxiety just can't seem to be managed well. Exercise helps with the "big feelings" as I call them around here, but I've been sidelined with the worst back injury of my life since mid June and it's crushing my spirit (and my disc, too).

I was driving back from errands today, Kiddo D at a camp and Baby X briefly calm in his seat. It was a respite from his shrieking and my negotiating in the stores and the parking garage. My sunglasses were cloudy and smudged with tiny fingerprints. Baby X loves to pull off my shades and then forcefully "put them back on for Mommy" which entails jamming the arms into my mouth/nose/eyes and holding them there. It's cute. It's silly. It makes every pair bend and smudged.

I smiled. And I haven't been doing that much these days.

He doesn't sleep well. It's been getting better, but I'm still exhausted most mornings... hell, most days, all day. My coffee intake has skyrocketed in the most literal sense. I go through coffee beans like a newborn and diapers. Or a toddler with toilet paper. Or a kindergartner with liquid soap or toothpaste.

I thought that at this stage in the game I would have had a better handle on two kids. That I'd be less bitchy and have found more of a rhythm, as the saying goes. Mind you, miracles don't happen, so I'll ALWAYS be part bitch, but... ya know, less grumpy and quick to go off on Kiddo D.

Not sure if I have mentioned here before, but antidepressants seem to make me incredibly sick. I have multiple chronic conditions, including one that holds medication sensitivity as a symptom. I've done enough therapy to teach classes and write hardcover books. I mean, the classes would suck and the books wouldn't sell, but I COULD probably do it. There is essentially a holding pattern of sticking through it all, but no real improvement in sight. Not here, not in the horizon, not in the far-distant future. And that's sad. I used to think apathy was so lame... giving up. But there are certain realizations I have made now that just ARE. I'm certain my mood and anxiety will ebb and flow. There will be better days and weeks and months, and the not-so-great ones. I wish there were a magic pill that would help it... reduce it... perk me up. But I have tried almost all of them. NO JOKE. My file is a thick one, spanning decades and provinces. I am a health insurance company's worst nightmare.

But the physical side effects are intolerable. Not even just the first few weeks. It seems to get worse the longer I am on the medication, and then coming off of it it just HORRIFIC. Brain zaps and nausea and wishing death would make it stop because it's so physically uncomfortable and debilitating.

I tried a bunch of meds when Kiddo D was a baby and toddler. I was always feeling sick. It was no way to live.

Now, I have two kids to take care of, so feeling physically ill every day, even if my mood is slightly elevated, is not worth that trade off. Exercise is my best tool, but it's a tough balance between overdoing it and feeling more exhausted, and moving enough to put a dent in the stress hormones and anxiety.

I hope my kids don't look back and think I was a fool for not medicating. That my prissiness and short temper aren't a life sentence for both of them for therapy. I keep trying to be more patient and less RAGE-FACE with Kiddo D. I don't know that I am succeeding.

I always have brain fog, I can't focus, I'm SO SO SO sensitive to noise. It makes the agitation go to unbearable levels. I want to give Kiddo D my attention, but Baby X is NEEEEEEDY and curious and gets into EVERYTHING. I can't look away. So I hope, in my heart, that as he gets less motivated to kill himself at every given opportunity, that some semblance of giving both kids equal attention will come to be.

He's awake now. I should go.

But I do want to say... I am grateful. I am grateful I have these two wonderful, healthy, intense children. I am grateful I get to spend my time with them. I wish I could be a better version of myself. It's so sad to be in therapy and uncover all the layers and layers of shit you were subjected to as a child. For the therapist to say that you're doing incredibly well considering what you're dealing with. But to still fall short in so many ways.

I love my family with all of my cracked, duct-taped, dusty heart. I enjoy the moments when I can make them laugh. So so so deeply. I want to enjoy these days as much as I can. I want to be there for them emotionally - support them POSITIVELY, ask about their day, about their feelings, be able to focus and HEAR what they are saying, and often what they aren't saying, too. Sincerely. I don't want them to act in a false way to make me happy. I need to embrace the fact that they are their own little people. It's so hard. And we model what we know from when we were little. I have so much unlearning and so much learning to do...

I hope I figure it out for their sake... and soon.

______________________________

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Parenting can be isolating... parenting with anxiety and a tough baby is even more lonely

Hello all,

Needing an outlet so wanted to write. These chances are few and far between these days. I'm on borrowed time, in a much needed hot bath, propping my Mac up and hoping it doesn't become a tub toy.

I've been feeling quite isolated lately. With Baby D in school and Baby X just wee (yet an absolute adorable, non-stop HANDFUL), there isn't much time to socialize.

Many of my mom friends who I connected with, through Baby D and her friends, have returned to work or other daytime responsibilities now that their kids are at school in the day. There are still a few friends around some days of the week, but with Baby X's naps and our walk to and from school twice a day, there isn't a ton of time for getting together. Add to that the fact that Baby X can easily take 60-80 minutes for his meals... and... well... yeah.

Parenting is a challenge. It doesn't matter if you are working or staying at home. I think it feels harder the more you care. And it is definitely harder the more you overthink things and the more you worry.

I have been very, very unsuccessful in managing those last two things. And it is tough.

I know exercise has always been helpful in battling the blues and my anxiety demons. I have been working towards working out more, but it is hard when Baby X cries so much if I am not giving him my full attention.

I can run for short runs in the basement while I ply him with Mum Mum crackers and little puff snacks in his booster seat with the Wiggles cranked loud enough to both be heard over the noise of the treadmill and cause some hearing damage for good measure. But it lasts only so long, he throws everything off of the tray, I stop and play snack fetch repeatedly, then eventually he starts to wail because he can see me, but I'm not holding him.

I go to a mom and baby fitness class where we are all in one big room, but again, he last only so long before he totally loses his shit. I've had to wear him in a carrier for part of the class before. The two childminding ladies there generally split the rest of the babies. One lady gets Baby X, and the other lady gets ALL THE REST OF THE QUIET AND CONTENT BABIES. Le sigh.

I'd like to leave him at the gym childminding, but I just can't. He screams and wails with other people. He may let someone other than family hold him briefly, but it goes downhill quickly. I can't go exercise knowing he'd be so upset. And what about all the germs? The cases of measles in my neck of the woods that he is too young to be vaccinated against? The older kids trying to poke, prod and touch him? And before you think I'm imagining that risk, I literally have to block kids at Baby D's school regularly from touching him when he's in the stroller. There is something about him that makes people want to touch him (his face and hands especially!!) and it drives me up the goddamn wall.

I'm trying to make some new mom friends, but even things like going for coffee are tough now. All Baby X wants to do is crawl and move. He will not sit happily in his stroller, ever, unless he is watching the kids at the school. He hits his max tolerance around 15 minutes. So then I end up avoiding those situations, or going and being totally stressed while he starts to cry and shriek and I try to console him and get all frazzled and leave.

I wish I cared less if he was a bit distraught. He's safe, fed, nursed, loved, and tended to so often. But when he cries, my anxiety goes sky high. Adding to that is when miserable strangers glare at me, like I'm prodding him with hot coals to make him cry at Starbucks.

People with "easy" or calm babies don't get it. People with anxiety don't understand. And lots of people tell me to just "teach him he doesn't call the shots" like he is a king manipulator when he is a small person who is clearly upset and doesn't have adult skills to cope with his big feels.

So I exercise through chronic pain and rush around his tears. I feel tired and worn down. I know this stage won't last forever. And I do adore my kids. He is just so precious and hearing him giggle is one of the cutest things ever. Even cuter when it's Baby D making him laugh!

Not a funny post. Nothing great to see here. But needed to get that off my chest.

This too shall pass.
Right? RIGHT?!?!

________________________

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