About a week ago, I had a lengthy email discussion with SlackerMama about my experience with PPD, both how I came to admit I was suffering from it and how I’ve dealt with it since then.  While it was incredibly difficult for me to come terms with BEFORE treatment, now I’m quick to discuss it with anyone.  I feel like we should talk about it so women know that it’s okay.  They are not supposed to feel that way.  And they’re not crazy.  And it is real.  And it’s okay to ask for help.

In talking with her, I referenced the posts I wrote about it: how I confessed to Bryan that is was more than stress, how I had to take that silly “Depression Worksheet” at the doctors, and how I kept trying to smile at everyone in the office, as if trying to convince them that I wasn’t depressed.  And I told her how posting those little two posts opened up a floodgate of emails; women I didn’t know existed suddenly were contacting me to say, “Yeah, me too.”  Some were still struggling, some were healed, but all of them had a common thread: no one had ever talked to them about it.

Well, then ole Marilyn went and done somethin’ nutty.  She submitted my post for consideration at BlogNosh.  And they want to feature it.  Which is the COOLEST FRICKIN’ THING EVAH.

I mean, I’ve had my work featured before, but never my personal stuff.  I used to write a professional (as in, paid) site of adult erotic fiction, and my work was frequently featured from that, but my personal stuff?  HAVE I MENTIONED HOW AWESOME THAT IS?!

Which means that people will come here who haven’t been here before.  Which is slightly stressful, cause now I’m all “Crap, what will they READ?”.  I feel like I should do something special in honor of the occasion.  Like, if I were NBC, this is where the edited version of “The Best of SNL: The Anvil Tree” would run.

And guess what?  I don’t have time to dig through my last four years of archives, so I thought I’d ask YOU.  Yes, you, my lovely readers.  You, who read me through the readers.  You, who never ever EVER click in to comment.. I need YOUR OPINIONS. (Seriously, isn’t that a great opportunity?  I live for the opportunity to share my opinions.  I write a BLOG, for crissakes.)

Ooh.  Note to self: avoid any references to Christ in tomorrow’s post.

SO, what are some of my posts that you remember?  That made you laugh, or made you cry, or pissed you off, or whatever?  Seriously.. loved ‘em or hated ‘em, lemme know.  And don’t feel like you need to supply the links; I will go dig through and search for what you mention.  Like, if you say, “the post where you and Bryan had just begun dating and you were dressed like a stripper to go visit him at his house but Charlie ran away so you had to run through your neighborhood dressed like a hoe calling for your John”?  Then I’ll go, OH, that one!  See?  I’ll do the leg work, I just need your inspirations!  That I inspired!  My humility is astounding, no?

In the meantime, I get to be all uppity and post this:

From SlackerMama, who makes me laugh constantly..

For those of us living vicariously in 140-character increments.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it here, or if you may have heard me while running naked and screaming around South Huntsville, but I am a busy lady.  I am often overbooked, overtired, and underpatient.  Which is not a word, and yet it seamlessly describes my patience level on any given day.  And I even misused seamless there, because that is NOT the right word for that sentence, but you know what?  Too busy to change it.

There are some things in my life that have made things so much easier.  OTHER than whiskey, you know about the whiskey, would I shut up about the whiskey already?  Well, I will.  But just for the record, it really helps Binja’s cough.

No, I’m talking about the non-alcoholic life enhancers.  And not even in powder form. (Well, okay, I take that back.  Hang in there.) These are little (LEGAL)(I think) things that you can pick up that really do simplify or organize or whatever to take just three seconds out of “doing chores” and puts it back where those seconds need to be: WRITING ON YOUR DAMN BLOG.

So let me share.  Aren’t you excited?

So these little babies have made my life SOOO much better.  Look, I’m OCD about a lot of things, but my closet?  Ain’t one of them.  In fact, clothes in general don’t get any attention from me.  If they’re clean, I wear them.  If they’re not, they go in the hamper.  Then some magic elf cleans them later and puts them back in the basket.  While in our last rental house, I was known to let clothes accumulate in The Chair in our bedroom.  Like, for a long time.  Massively long amounts.  So much so that while going through my maternity wardrobe, I found some pieces I bought WHILE I WAS STILL IN MY FIRST FEW WEEKS OF PREGNANCY AT THE BOTTOM of The Chair.

These hangers?  Make hanging up clothes a breeze.  Seriously.  The OCD in me is soothed by the massive amounts of clothes, lined up so neatly in my closet, and how everything is so neatly hung.  And the flocking prevents all of my spagetti-straps from sliding to the closet floor.  Seriously.  ADORE THESE. (And at Bed, Bath, and Beyond, they come in packs of 50.  Take in one of those 20% off coupons when you buy them, and you’re golden.)

These aren’t the exact thing that have improved my life, and I feel like I have failed you for that.  But I can say that these melamine bowls from Target are PRETTY durn close to the bowls that HAVE changed my life.  The bowls I found were on clearance, over in the “Shop for College” section that I sulk by because OHMYGOD, IWOULDDOTHATIFIWERESINGLE.  But I saw these bowls, and I stopped in my tracks and actually exclaimed “BRYAN, WE MUST HAVE THESE.”

Which was weird, since I was by myself.  But alas, I am slightly fanatical about my bowls.

Bryan and I HATE the bowls that accompany our dishes.  They don’t hold squat.  I am italian; bowls are meant to hold hot mounds of steaming noodly goodness.  Which almost sounds like porn, and Jeebus, when it’s good it is almost porn.  Bowls are also supposed to hold half of a gallon of ice cream and still have enough room for half a container of chocolate syrup.  And the bowls I found?  Still have room for peanut butter.

(Gratuitous shot of my actual bowl at home, holding my berry breakfast.  Keep in mind that it is currently housing a full cup of fruit.  AND LOOK HOW MUCH ROOM THERE STILL IS!!)

Ah.  This love can be surmised in one, simple, perfect word.  And those who know this little happy utter this word with such adoration, such unabashed love that those who don’t understand must think us nutty.  But those who know.. LOVE TIVO.

Admittedly, I came into TiVo cautiously.  I figured this would feed an already dastardly and unhealthy addiction to tv, one that often resulted in us losing hours a night to finding SOMETHING good to watch.  But, no.  NO, NO, NO.  Let me stop that thinking RIGHT here, because NO, it did not.  It made our lives better.  More efficient.  Less filled with fluff.  Because now?  There are no ads.  There is no need to sit through every opening theme song/montage.  There is no reason to sit through Mary Martin’s insane screaming.  We just watch the good stuff and that, my friends?  Has inspired us to spend several nights a week never turning the darn thing on.

And don’t give me the whole “Well, we have DVR crap!”.  It is not the same.  Namely, you are lacking a loveable and antennaed friend who suggests what you never knew you needed to watch.  It is not the same.

Your turn: what are your little happies?