Archive | April, 2008

Revelation, Brooke Shields Style – Pt.1

Sometimes, I feel like I make these grand assertions on here, and there’s only grand to me.  Which is fine; it’s my blog.  I write it for my own (lame) memory’s sake, anyhow, so any assertion I wanna make is one I should feel good about making right? 

But here’s one that I really am taking very seriously.  It’s not about my hair, my weight, or even cleaning.  Well, it’s sorta about cleaning.  Mainly, it’s about me.

See, I have lots of very strong, capable women around me.  Most (if not all) of these women have given birth at some point.  And while every woman has their very own birth story, there has been one thing I’ve never heard anything about in my own circle, so I assumed it was just an urban legend.

Then, as it all came crashing down around me this last week, I realized that urban legends have to have some truth to them in order to circulate.  So maybe it’s NOT so mythical.  Maybe real people DO get Post-partum depression.

This last week, I got stuck in a very dark, very deep place.  I’ve been doing that off and on since the baby was born, unfortunately, but I was always quick to attach an excuse to it.  First it was exhaustion.  “I’m depressed because I’m exhausted.”  What new mom wouldn’t be?  Then it was the hormones.  “My body’s going through so many changes, so I’m feeling depressed.”  Again, totally plausible.  Then, the reasons varied between plausible and completely ludicrous, anywhere from “The baby’s been so sick, so I’m just run down and blue” to “I can’t stand to wash any more bottles, I JUST CAN’T, and JesusGod, if someone doesn’t rescue me from this monotony..”

There is SO MUCH GUILT associated with this.  Because I don’t fit the mold of what I think PPD should be.  I don’t hate my baby, I don’t resent my baby, I don’t regret my baby.. any of that.  But there’s this overwhelming heaviness, hanging over me like a little black raincloud.  Even on good days, it’s not that they’re GOOD, it’s just that they suck LESS. 

And I felt feel so guilty, because I KNOW how lucky I am. 

As you can see, I still catch myself trying to clean up my language, trying to bury what is gnawing away at me.  Because it’s not in my nature to say, “I’m just sad and I don’t know what to fix and I need help.”  I shouldn’t need help; I’m a big girl with all the capabilities of any human being, and I should be able to handle this.  Right? 

Wrong.  So horribly and obviously wrong.

I came in Monday night after a board meeting to dishes in the sink and a house that needed cleaning, and it was too much.  I crawled into bed without saying two words to my husband, my best friend, whom I would usually share anything with.  And as he rubbed my head later, trying to coax it out of me, all I could say was, “Does it ever get better?  Does it ever become easier?  Less routine?”

He said, “Well, just try and enjoy the moments.  Each laugh of Tony’s is different.  So just enjoy each moment as it comes.”

I looked at him and pondered squeezing his eyeballs into his skull with my thumbs, because I would’ve enjoyed THAT moment right then, but instead, I just fell asleep.  Because it wasn’t that I was morbidly depressed; it was that I was numb.

Last night, after shutting myself off from him all day, we fell into bed again and I tried different words.  “I am just so sad,” I started.  Then the tears came.  And I was slightly excited, because it was the most I’d felt in a LONG time.  “I love my son, and I love you, and everything is so perfect, and yet I don’t feel happy.  I feel run-down and tired and lost and numb.  I feel empty.”

“We’re going through a lot, you know,” he said.  “What with a new baby, your new job, a new house, you going back to school.. that’s a lot.  Of course you’re stressed.”

“It’s not stress,” I sobbed.  “I think I need to see a doctor.”

More to come.

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Lil Quickie

I am putting together some more coherent thoughts for you, but at the moment, all I can say is:

Did y’all SEE Law & Order: SVU last night?  With Robin Williams guest starring as the loveable bad guy?  HOLY CRAP, that man owns my heart.

Also, it was an exercise in how I am AMAZING at identifying voices.

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Day One of the Big Fat Blog

So, this week begins our little competition at my friend’s blog.  My starting weight?  A LOT.  I debated putting it here, because, well.. it’s a lot.  Like, seriously.  Alright, fine; 184.  That’s my weight.  184.  I guess it’s not so scary in number form, but in fat-roll form?  Terrifying.

Today is the first day, but I’ve been cleaning up my act for the last week.  Although I hated Skinny Bitch, I did walk away from it having learned a FEW things. (Basically, the book says only vegans who Damn the Man and eat organic and tofu everything can be skinny.  Um, no.) The book said to start your day with fresh fruit, because it delivers everything you need right into your system.  This goes against EVERYTHING I’ve ever learned in dieting (SUGAR.  RIGHT IN YOUR BLOODSTREAM.), but feels so luxurious. (I’m a fresh fruit NUT.) So I start every day with a 1/2 cup of fresh cut fruit.

I did 15 minutes of Turbo Jam yesterday.  I would’ve done more but my child was crying. (AS WAS MY BODY.) The good news is that I’m not really sore today, so I really think I could’ve finished the workout.  I’m going to try and do at least 20 minutes of Turbo Jam three times a week.  If I only I had enough time in the day.

I’m also picking up teas again.  A glass of decaffeinated organic green tea when I get to work.  Along with two slices of 7 whole grain bread with organic peanut butter.  Jeebus, who AM I?  But I SO WANT TO WIN THIS CONTEST.  I think our total pot is now over $400. 

Think of all the Baconators I could buy with $400.

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Rainy Weekend

It’s a quiet day at the Brown-Comer household.  Which is nice.  With the constant rain outside, our plans to try and see the arts festival today were quickly snubbed.  I was sad, cause quite frankly, we go for the food.  But, as things always happen for a reason, I found a wings place in town that SERVES FREAKING FUNNEL CAKE.  Who needs an art festival for funnel cake?  Ah, not moi.

Bryan and The Boy visited a new local restaurant here (which may be a chain.. we’re not entirely sure) that serves frozen custards.  Bryan has not stopped talking about it since.  Apparently, a small chocolate frozen custard comes as part of the kids meal.. which may mean that Bryan will now be eating a kids meal for lunch daily.

Yesterday, we made the trek down to see his family.  Now, when I say, “We’re gonna eat with my family,” that means there’s three extra place settings.  Eating with Bryan’s family means that there’s gonna be 40+ people in the room.  It is so huge that some people walked in and no one knew their names.  Yep, they were definitely family, but no one could seem to remember who they were.  Isn’t that nutty?  I can’t even comprehend.  Regardless, we had a blast. (Okay, us grown folk did.  Binja?  Not so much.  40+ people, no air conditioning, and no nap for six hours had him acting kind of witchy.)

Today, we’re troubleshooting TiVo. (I’m trying to maintain my composure.) It is not reading our wireless network.  Bryan’s been on the phone with them twice already and they’re to the point that they may just send us another box.  But.. then.. wouldn’t we have to go, like, two days without TiVo?  How important IS this said wireless connection, anyway?  HOW WILL I FORWARD THROUGH THE COMMERCIALS?!

I will manage.  I may just not be a very nice person in the meanwhile.

How was your weekend?

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Notes to Some of my Peeps

Kari:

Last night I dreamed that Target started selling these huge cosmetic “samplers” that had all of these awesome samples from NARS, Bare Escentuals, Philosophy, Stila, and Too Faced.  It was kind of expensive, so we went in together and then had a make-up throwdown afterwards to see who needed what product the most.  It was ridiculous, but we had a blast.  Then I turned into a troll.

Gena:

When are we gonna drink again?

Ronda:

I did not tell you the other night, although I should have and have regretted it since, that you were beautiful.  Because, my God, you are.  You are glowing and look amazingly pulled together while recovering from a c-section with a two year old running around.  You are my hero.

Steph:

When I get my wine refrigerator, I’m going to depend on your delicate palate to tell me what to buy.  Like a bottle of Boujalais Nouveau or whatever the hell that is that is so good every year.  Of course, I think we should taste every bottle before we decide.

Caroline:

My screensaver at work is a revolving slideshow of my Flickr albums.  Someone was in my cube talking to me when a shot of you came up, and they absolutely stopped talking.  They said you were so other-worldly gorgeous.  And I had to agree, but I said your best feature is that you watch Rock of Love II and will admit it.

Zoot:

Recently acquired: two 3-6 month Alabama onesies.  They have AndyZ’s name all over them.

Tonya:

I’m so jealous that you’ve preordered your WiiFit.  You will have to give me a detailed review, because we’ll be in the thrust of moving when it’s released, and I doubt I can get around to setting everything up in time.  But do a downward facing dog for me, girl.

“Melissa”:

I’m so happy to have reconnected with you, and that your life is going so well.  Also: I covet your hair.

Bryan:

I think sleeping with Darth Vader is kind of hot.

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