Out and About

We've been working this week on getting out.

Beginning of the week it was necessary... Shawn was out of town for two days and I took care of two kids!  Alone!

I can't even describe the anxiety that went in to those days.  I practiced the anxiety for two weeks in advance and two days afterwards.  But we made it.  And passed with flying colors.  Hence the being awesome post.

Getting a car for the day at this point involves us taking the boys to work/school.  Easy? 

Um.  Not easy.

Not easy to get a toddler, a husband, a newborn, and yourself dressed and fed and out of the house by 730am.  Not easy at all.

But again.  We're doing it.

Topped it off this morning with a visit to AH's new BFFs, Als and Lils with coffee and Munchkins in hand.

Here she is telling them how awesome life is in the upcoming weeks.

Getting out and about?  Crucial.

Shoeless Robbie E

Robbie HATES HATES HATES shoes and socks.

Takes them off his feet at any possible moment. 

Driving to school?  Shoes on the floor. 

Playing in the living room?  Get rid of these socks!

I'm not sure how we are going to fix this one...if we are. 

Apparently he does the same thing at school and yesterday his socks were MIA.  According to Miss Sheila, this afternoon, he just showed up with yesterday's socks from wherever he had stowed them.

I guess it makes sense why one of his first 20 words is "socks"

Who needs shoes when you have dimples like these?

On Being Awesome

Here's the context to yesterday:  a really really terrible nights sleep followed by the anxiety of the hubby being out of town for two days and doing it all alone.

Here's the thing about me:  I have a really well-defined sense of awesomeness.

The ones that know me well may cringe.

In church a few weeks ago, our (awesome) minister in her sermon mentioned being in a bible study and her asking the group when they go to bed at night, who really says "hey God, I did awesome today?" The crowd nervously chuckled and it seems no one did.  Shawn looked at me.  And me?  Sometimes, I have days where I go to bed and say "Hey God, I did awesome today."

Call it an ego... an overly congratulatory sense of self... or just some acute self-awareness.

But I know when I'm doing awesome.

And I know when I'm not.

Yesterday?  It was not awesome.

But I have to remember that just because I'm awesome doesn't mean I will be every day.

So tonight?  "Hey God, I did way better than I expected today. Tomorrow?  Tomorrow I will return to awesome.  Amen."

Even Cowboys Get the Blues

(Written on a morning after a night of less than three hours sleep.  Opinions and perspectives may change after a good nap.  Hopefully they change after a good nap!)

Even cowboys get the blues... right?

You have a baby. Everyone is telling you had great you are doing, how great you look.

You agree: It really is easier the second time around.

We have, by most measures, had a fairly easy road of parenting so far.  

But I am weary and feel the fog of winter and baby blues starting to set in and cloud my head.

I don't think it is any secret that I had PPD with Robbie.  I struggled to see it, admit it, identify it, but it was definitely there.  I felt like after three years of infertility, I had absolutely no authority, no reasoning and no chance of having babies blues.  But they were there. I said at the time it was PTSD.  The truth is probably not that far off.

But what do you do about it?  You organize mom meetups, try to set up lunches with friends.  Try to get out of the house.

We are a one-car family, and with Robbie going to daycare with Shawn in the morning, the vast majority of the time so far, I've been "stuck" here at the house.

It is just so hard to get out and about.  Remember to pack everything.  Wake up early enough to feed the baby so both Robbie and Shawn can get to school and work on time.  When you are tired, the prospect of logistics is soul crushing.

All the while, your friends lives carry on. 

They are doing fun things.  Interesting things even.

They get together to watch football games, go shopping, movies, restaurants, roadtrips.  They go to work every day and talk about adult things.  Interesting things.  Life.

And you realize you have no interesting things to talk about, because you have no life.

You make plans and then you cancel them because you are tired, and the prospect of getting everything together and correct to get out of the house is just so daunting.  It's easier to stay home.  But it isn't healthy.

Your "hangry" baby is a night owl, and likes to be hungry-angry from 8pm until god knows when.  Last night it was 3am.

And here you are.  Watching a House Hunters marathon even though you've already seen this episode three times.

The most uninteresting person in the world.

I'm lonely. I'm bored.  I'm feeling unlike myself... I wouldn't want to hang out with me either right now.

It gets better.  I know it does because it's been there.  But I told myself if I felt PPD creeping it, I'd admit it.  So here I am.  Admitting it.

It isn't rare.  It happens to so many people.

You out there that I know?  I know you had PPD and you never talked about it.  And you that did?  I'm glad you did.

Some of the best Moms I know have had PPD.  Some still have it.

Daisy's keeping an eye on it and now you are too. 

Thanks internets for keeping me accountable.