A Surprisingly Sane Blog

Why, oh why, do I get the urge to scrub the kitchen and follow through with it BEFORE I cook?

The dog barking across the street wants to die a slow and painful death.  So do the kids that play and scream in the streets after school every day.

My ass looks absolutely amazing.  Seriously.  I took a good look at it in the mirror for the first time yesterday since I gave birth 5 months ago.  Five months ago, I thought I was doomed to have a saggy, flat, flabacious granny butt for the rest of my life.  Then yesterday, James couldn’t get enough of an eyeful or handful of it.  I was thinking what is up with you and my ass today? And he was like, “Oh my gosh, your ass is so hot!  It looks great!”  So I checked it out in the mirror to make sure he wasn’t lying.  **Gasp!**  All those lunges and squats at my twice-a-week step class REALLY DO WORK!  My tush is small and tight and round!  HOLY COW!  For the first time in my life, I really like my butt.

That same butt is too damn big to comfortably sit on Julie’s little toilet cover in the front bathroom.  Note to self: remove the potty seat before attempting to pee.

Thank God the newborn phase only lasts a few months.  Before you know it, they are 5 months old, rolling over, laughing, and freaking adorable!

I am officially addicted to chocolate and caffeine.  That shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone.

James must be narcoleptic.  How the hell else can someone fall asleep that stinking fast every single night?  I wanna have narcolepsy, too.

My monokini is the trashiest swimsuit I’ve ever owned… even though it covers more than all the bikinis I’ve ever owned.  I’m very excited about it.  Trashy = good.  Public jacuzzi, here I come!

What is going to happen to my va-jay-jay tomorrow during my physical therapy appointment?  What on earth does phsycial therapy for rectocele, cystocele, and uterine prolapse involve?

Ugh.  I’m going to have to show my vadge to a complete stranger tomorrow.  Ugh.

Aghhh!  I have to show my vadge to a complete stranger tomorrow, have conversation concerning Miss V, do exercises with The V, and have to answer questions pertaining to sex and other things concerning the Vadge.  AGH!

Where on earth is that paintbrush?

See’s Candies should be illegal.

OMG.  I have to show my vagina to a physical therapist tomorrow.  Maybe if I gave birth to normal-sized babies instead of month-old infants I would’t be having these prolapse issues.  *grumble*

If I have to hear one more episode of Dora today, I’m going to die of a brain aneurysm.

I’m typing with one hand because I have a baby eating my boob.

I am really confused as to what I’m going to do about teaching school.  Up until this depression hit full force and left me barely functioning, I was going to start applying for jobs for the next school year, um, this month.  Needless to say, that’s not going to happen anytime soon.  I need to get my head on straight before I even think about getting a job outside of my home.  I just can’t stretch myself any thinner.

…

Lord, did I earn my spot in heaven for not seriously beating Julie’s butt a few minutes ago when I realized that she’d dripped paint ALL OVER THE FLOOR while I was busying nursing April and typing this?

Excuse me, I have a huge mess to clean up.

My depression moves in waves.  One day I’m kind of okay, I’m feeling a bit of hope, a little more energy.  The next… I’m suddenly spiraling out of control again.  The worst part is that during those times, I feel so agitated and irritable that I don’t think I’m ever going to feel good again.  It’s a really crappy spot to be stuck in.  The tough times last longer than the good ones.

The last four days have been like that, and I’ve finally started to feel on the upside of the slope since this evening.  Much to James’ relief.
I’ve been living in this constant fear of those “down times”.

How long do I have to feel more “normal” before I’m at the bottom of the wave again?  Sometimes I can feel it happen- when the good mood (although I’d hardly call it very good) slips away like silken webs.  I start desperately grasping onto it, but my fingers just can’t grip it.  Other times, a sudden trigger turns my world dark in just moments.

The last trigger I remember was being put in the spotlight at the support group on Wednesday.  Thursday was crap.  Friday I had to up my dose of Prozac to what is now going to be my regular dosage.  I hit rock bottom sometime last night.

I went to bed, feeling irritated that James was totally chill reading next to me.  One would think it was his Playboy that was pissing me off, but no.  It was just the fact that he was able to relax.  By all means, get a boner staring at other (hotter) naked chicks who are probably barely legal, but BY GOD, don’t relax unless you want me to rip you a new one! Yes, the woody probability didn’t even cross my mind.  And even if it had, it most likely still wouldn’t have bothered me.  That’s how blank I’ve been these days.

Okay, back to my point.

I was exhausted, but feeling antsy.  Finally, I asked him (okay, demanded or else) to turn the light out.  Once it was dark, I instantly felt like I was thrown onto one of those spinning fairground rides.  It was drunk spins without the blissful wine buzz.  So I started having trouble remembering to breathe.  And before I knew it, I was panicking without the usual anxiety welling up in me.  I just felt nauseated instead.  I’m sure I have the Prozac to thank for that.

James did his best to calm me down in between his peaceful but annoying snort-awakes.

*SNORT* “It’s okay honey, just breathe…” deep breathing from his end.  *Teeth click* (an annoying reflex he has as he’s falling asleep).  Click click.

I spent the next hour or so staring, petrified, at the dim light filtering in through the blinds.  At some point, I fell asleep, only to be woken half a dozen times by Julie, who suddenly decided to revert back to newborn sleep patterns just to piss us off last night.

And then it was morning, and the sun coming in through my window agitated me off more than I want to admit.  Will someone please tell the sun that it’s not time to get up yet?? Unfortunately, it was definitely the start to a complete and utter meltdown sometime after I drank my usual lethal dose of caffeine.

Suddenly, I was feeling lethargic and miserable, but crazy antsy at the same time.  It was a horrible feeling.  James thinks I was having an anxiety attack, but it felt different than usual (thanks to my new meds, I’m guessing).  This lasted for hours.  Seriously, hours.  I thought it would never end.

Finally, though, the fog lifted a bit, and I was able to calm down.  I even felt warm and fuzzy with James, much to his complete relief.

Poor guy.  He puts me through my own share of hell, but how he puts up with my insane ass… I’ll never know.

I’m keeping my fingers crossed that tomorrow is a GOOD day.

Sorry.  Your baby ISN’T the cutest little spud in the world.  Mine is.

The top ten reasons that come to mind.

1.  Your. Hair. Is. Incredible.  Seriously, teenagers pay big bucks to get their hair to do what yours does all by itself.

2.  You laugh at me when I come to get you in the morning.

3.  You have chub rolls on your thighs.

4.  Dimples!  Huge ones in each fat little cheek!

5.  You smile while you let farts rip like an old man.

6.  You make little humming sounds while you suck on your binkie.  And my boob, for that matter.

7.  You hold your little legs up so I have easy access to your cute little butt while I’m changing your diaper.

8.  Baby feet!  You rub them together while you’re trying to relax.

9.  Your little tongue is always out, like you’re tasting the air.

10.  You LOVE looking at yourself in the mirror, and you laugh every time you see your reflection.