How many perspectives does it take to change another?

At least two. If you’re me anyway.

See, I’ve been hit with a double whammy in life:

1. I am a woman
2. I am a woman who deals with depression, anxiety and OCD.

As if being a woman wasn’t hard enough. Double, nay, triple those emotions and mood swings and that’s what I’ve got to deal with. It’s a miracle I still know my own mind even half the time. The other half of the time is when I get another’s perspective. Like today.

Today Count Dooku is off from school. In the mid-morning, like usual, I tried to get Angel girl to nap. She refused to go to sleep on her own. Cue the boob. As she sucked, Angel girl began falling asleep so I transferred her to her crib. She woke up during the transfer and screamed in her crib for 20 minutes, refusing to go back to sleep. So I brought her out and tried again. This time the transfer was successful. Hurray! I knew that she would nap for precisely two hours if undisturbed, so I explained to her brothers not to go in the hallway and to keep their voices down. From there I planned out my two hours. I would wash dishes for the first half and exercise for the latter half.

The dishes only took 30 minutes to hand wash and just as I was sweeping up the kitchen, thinking of the wonderful waist trimming exercise ahead of me, Count Dooku raced by the kitchen revving his hot wheels monster truck at top speed down the hallway. It made a horribly loud roar. I half shouted at him, trying to keep it quiet, to get out of the hallway. A moment later the dreaded baby wail sounded over the baby monitor.

In an instant I was angry. Very angry. I shouted at Count Dooku to go to his room. I think sometimes sending them away in that moment of intense anger is more for the benefit of the child than the parent. I think I yelled/growled at the top of my lungs in frustration as the babies cries got louder and at that moment a break down became imminent. All the frustrations of the week, some held in for even longer came tumbling out in tears and possibly a throwing of the broom onto the floor.

Luckily, I’ve been through enough break downs to know I needed a different perspective. Or maybe I should say unluckily. In any case, it was my poor husband who had to try to make sense of the garbled words I was sobbing into the phone. He reminded me that even he has forgotten about the sleeping baby before and barged into the room making a racket. So my heart was softened toward our 6 year old when I was reminded that sometimes my expectations for his behavior and memory are a little high. Hubby couldn’t speak long, so then it was off to call the momma.

The momma always has words of wisdom and help. And an uncanny ability to draw out the real why behind the break down. She also the ability to draw out the fact that I photo shopped my double chin out of a picture I recently posted on my family blog. But that made me feel sheepish and brought laughter to the tears.

I won’t go into the why of my breakdown. Just that I figured it out, and that’s a start to making sure it doesn’t happen again. At least for the same reasons. Because who am I kidding saying I’ll never break down in sobs or frustration again. It comes with being a woman. But I’ll always find a resolution when I look outside of the emotions of the moment and the blinding tears to someone with a different perspective, who can help make mine clear again.

Read Full Post »

Drive Thru Pee Peril or Why you should always have a water bottle in your car if you have boys

Imagine the setting:

A McDonald’s in the inner city area. This equals a tiny parking lot that is always packed with cars and people. The drive thru line is long and I’m querying the boys for their orders before we reach the speaker. It’s fairly quiet in the car until I hear Count Dooku’s worried voice say, “Mom,when we get home can we change my pants cause I fink I peed a little in dem.”

My head wheels around and I reach into the back seat to feel his pants. If they are indeed wet it must be a very tiny spot. I breathe a small sigh of relief and then ask him the question with the obvious answer, “Do you have to pee?”

“Yes” he says in a small voice.

The car in front of us pulls ahead.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before we left the museum?”

“Cause I didn’t feel like der was pee yet, but all da sudden I feel da pee.”

I snicker a little and drive forward again and then he continues in an urgent voice as he grabs his pants, “I have to pee mom. I fink I’m going to pee in da car.”

“Oh no you won’t!” I say as I drive forward up to the speaker.

“Can I take your order?” says the voice over the speaker.

“Yeah, just a second,” I say loudly and then to Count Dooku in the back, “Unbuckle and climb into the front seat right now.”

He does so, still holding himself. The anxious look in his eyes has increased 10 fold and I’m flying through options in my brain as I blurt out our order.

“I’d like two four piece nuggets, two small fries and a hamburger,” and then to Count Dooku, “Ok, take your pants down a little buddy.”

Now what? Do I have him run across the way to the dumpster and pee behind there? No, that won’t work, I’d have to drive forward and he’d freak out thinking I was leaving him.
Do I open the door slightly and have him pee out onto the pavement? No, the folks in their cars behind us would see.

I pull forward again right as Count Dooku has finished pulling his pants down enough to pee. I realize that we’re driving up to the window and the cashier is going to see his naked nethers so I push him onto his naked bum and pull his coat down.

“Don’t move!” I warn him

“Your total is $6.64,” says the cashier. I hand her my credit card, she swipes it and hands it back. I pull up a little.

“I’m gonna peeeeeeeee!”

Crap! What to do? What to do? I’m ready to throw the door open and let him pee out of it when I see the 3/4 full water bottle on the floor. It’s got a rather narrow opening but it will work. I roll the window down and dump the water out.

We’re between the first and second window with one car in front of us when I tell Count Dooku to start peeing. I’m holding the steering wheel with my left hand, and the water bottle with my right. The car in front of us drives away. It’s my turn to pull up but Count Dooku is still peeing.

“Come on, come on!” I say. The lady at the second window is holding our bag out of the window beckoning me to pull forward. I’m looking right at her shrugging my shoulder and trying to clearly mouth, “One second.”

She shakes her head and closes the window. Count Dooku is still peeing. Finally he finishes up, hurriedly pulls his pants up and I drive forward after rolling the tightly sealed water bottle under the seat. The lady opens the window and thrusts the bag into my hands. Count Dooku is climbing into the back seat and buckling his belt.

“I really fot I was gonna pee in da car mom,” he says, the anxiousness in his voice gone.

“I’m so glad you didn’t son,” I say. “next time, remind me to make you pee before we go on a car ride, whether you think you need to or not.”

Read Full Post »

Comfortable

Sometimes, I’m surprised by how much I have changed in just the past few years. I got thinking about this tonight at a recipe exchange.

There, surrounded by good food, good people and good conversation I found myself feeling perfectly comfortable. Why, at book group just last week I was unafraid to voice my opinions or even, heaven forbid, try to be funny. Which I sort of was. This seemed slightly unnatural to me, for I remembered past gatherings of this variety where speaking out and feeling comfortable were not the case.

Just three years ago I would attend similar gatherings where I found myself feeling self-conscious, and quiet. My husband was concerned as I came home from each event feeling depressed. I felt bitter at the conversation going on all around me as I sat quietly listening in the corner chair. I listened to certain women speak up and speak often with ease, bitter that they would draw all the attention to themselves and not give others a chance to say anything.
I felt bitter that there were so many obvious close friendships that I was not a part of. Bitter that I heard of play dates and events to which I was not invited. I felt certain that I was ugly and annoying and that I was only invited to these events because they wouldn’t be able to hide their having occurred, from me. Yet I kept going to them and came back feeling more depressed every time.

So I found myself wondering, what is different now? Is it that those women have moved away? After all, they hated me right? They were the reason I was so sad right?

No.

What was different then, was that I hated me. So I assumed everyone else did too. How can I possibly expect anyone to think better of me than I think of myself?

No one was stifling me. They would have allowed me to speak out had I chosen it.
No one was trying not to include me. But you can’t force friendship.

I went through a lot of hurt before my perception of me and my assumptions about what others must be thinking of me, changed. Sometime I’ll go into more detail. But for now, I’ve realized that being comfortable around others, starts with being comfortable with myself.

I wish I would have learned that sooner. I think I missed out on some really great friendships because I was busy assuming no one wanted to be my friend.

Read Full Post »

It’s about time I accepted an award in style!

I’d like to thank Deb for this MAH-velous award.

But how could she resist giving it to a person so beautiful, she even looks good as a fish?!

And now, I would like to pass this on to the following faithful commenters:

Kimberly
Cristy
Corrie
Marie
Holly
Cheryl
Michelle
Melissa
Laurie
Hillary
Ally
Janice
Kellan

If I missed you it’s either because you already have this award or because it’s past midnight and I am beyond zombie-ish.

Warning: Although this was my very first attempt at photo shopping my head onto someone else’s body, I have discovered that the process is highly addicting. If you plan to learn how to do it, proceed with caution and lots of spare time.

Read Full Post »

You found me how? Edition 2nd

Welcome to the second edition of the Tri-Yearly post, You found me how? Interesting, funny or bizarre search terms people have used to stumble across my blog. You can find the first edition here. Now, here are some of the best of the last four months (typed as it was when I saw it):

Vacuum cleaner fetish – I don’t want to know. Really.

Miracle underwear – Does it flatten the mom pooch? If it does, I want a pair!

why does my baby spit bubbles – Just to be adorable of course.

pictures of 4th degree tear – No, I did not take any pictures of mine, and I really hope the person who typed this works in the medical field.

giggles from alcohol – I think that’s what usually happens. I have no personal experience here, but I’ve seen it in action. Alcohol can definitely give a person the giggles

lidocaine did not numb my tooth – Tell me about it!

mouse toilet training – It’s hard enough getting a child to use the toilet. Why would you want to go through that with a mouse?

scare the tar out of you? Thanks but no.

Bella Swan breastfeeding – I only know of one Bella Swan and she hasn’t even made love to her vampire beau so I doubt she would be able to breastfeed yet.

dental horror story drilling pain That pretty much sums up every dental visit I’ve ever had.

pizza hut pan confessions – Count me in! When are you meeting? Is the pizza free?

Well! Excuuuuuse me, Princess! – Um, ok

sandy poopy diapers diarrhea allergy – I really don’t know what to say. But congratulations on spelling diarrhea correctly.

Bella Swan is weak and needy AMEN!

what means wub – *snicker*

Dentist drill “my tooth” panic – Am I seeing a trend in how people find my blog lately?

i hate wearing rubber dams at the dentist – I guess so.

“yes, girls poop” – We also fart, belch and lick our fingers noisily after eating ribs.

motherhood and laughter -yes, they go hand in hand

motherhood is too hard, ocd Yes motherhood can be hard and OCD certainly makes it harder.

And lastly, I won’t type all of the suggestive searches I’ve gotten concerning Bella and Edward that have led people here. I had no idea my little review would generate so much traffic from people looking for Twilight fan fictions that turn in a different direction if you know what I mean.

And that concludes this edition of You found me how? Join me again in 4 months for more interesting search terms people have used to find my blog.

Read Full Post »

A Reminder

It was 11p.m. She noticed that there wasn’t any milk in the fridge for breakfast in the morning. So she picked up her keys, put on her coat and boots and headed out the door. She hadn’t been out all day, so she stopped by the mailbox in the complex hallway downstairs. As she opened her mail cubby, a single letter fell out. As she picked it up, she saw her name on it and then the name of the sender in the upper left corner.

Her stomach lurched as she saw that name. The name that had almost been the death of her emotional and mental well being. The name that she had successfully forgotten until that moment. The name of someone whose license to practice medicine in her state had been revoked. He was announcing the opening of a new clinic, across the state border, and he would appreciate her business.

She tore the letter into 6 ragged pieces and tossed it into the garbage on the way outside.
She thought of how she felt about him, this human being she knew only as a doctor. A doctor she had trusted implicitly, simply because he carried that title. She had been at fault there. She would never blindly believe in a doctor again.

She now does her own research and make her opinions known. But the physical consequences of some of his treatments still linger and it is hard for her not to think of his face or see his name without feeling anger and fear.

Better not to think of what could have been. Or of what should have been. Better to strive to forget, until she feels she can think on it with less hurt in her heart.

Read Full Post »

Right before bedtime…

…when you’ve told your four and six year old sons to go pee. Be sure to specify that they do so in different bathrooms.

Otherwise you might just pass the open bathroom doorway, see two naked boy bottoms facing you and hear laughter from them over the fact that their streams are crossing.

Boys.

Read Full Post »

Can’t make up my mind

Yesterday I went and saw the dentist again. He told me we would be taking care of a small restoration. I asked him how small it was, how deep he would need to drill and how long it would take for him to complete the process. To what did these questions turn, you ask? Why to my hair brained idea that maybe I wanted to go without local anesthetic of course.

You see, me and anesthetic don’t mix. They shoot me with the stuff and my heart races and I feel so icky and panicky the whole time. And then my lip is fat for hours afterward and my face itches but I can’t feel myself scratching, etc. I honestly hate the feeling of local anesthesia more than being in labor.

So I told him to start drilling and we would see how it went. Yes, I am completely nuts I think. But he drilled as far as he needed to, going slowly and the pain was minimal. It just made me jump at times it was so sudden and cold. But it really wasn’t bad. When he had finished prepping me for the filling I was very proud of myself. I figured I had weathered the worst, oh naive dental patient that I am.

But then he told me he was going to have to put this metal thing between my teeth up next to my gums. He slid it up there and it pinched my gums and right away it hurt worse than the drilling had. But though the pain was intense it was fleeting once the thing was secured. Then he told me he was going to have to drive a tiny wedge between my teeth. He showed me this little blue thing that looked like it had been carved out of a toothpick. No problem right. Wrong!

He started to push it in, and Holy %$#*&*&#$ %$&*@&%*$!
I’ve never passed out, I don’t know what it feels like, but I thought I might do it. He saw me arching my back and drove it in real quick. I felt all warm and woozy with pain for a moment but then it started dulling and I thought I could keep going. Then he had to stretch a rubber dam over everything and that tugged on the metal thing pinching my gums again and it really really really really hurt. But I had come this far without local anesthetic and I was NOT GIVING IN. Finally it was time to fill the tooth and that didn’t bug me at all. Then he removed all the crap killing my gums and the pain was pretty much gone right away. And I was smiling. Because I didn’t have a numb face.

Will I do it again? I can’t decide. I am leaning towards not, however. I must choose the lesser of two evils and now I’m thinking it’s the anesthesia. Maybe it doesn’t always work on my teeth but it’s definitely always worked on my gums, which is where the real pain is people. Trust me.

Read Full Post »

E is for Excellent

Tiff over at Three Ring Circus thinks my blog is Excellent. If there is one award I have truly been coveting it was this one. Possibly because it relates to video games which, if you’ve read my blog for long you know I love my SNES and PS2! Still wishing for that Wii…anybody? Anybody?

Ahem!

So thank you very much Tiff and I’m going to pass this along to:

Kenna at Shrek + Fiona
Ree at Ree Writes
and
Marie over at Memarie Lane

They’re not the only excellent bloggers I read but I thought I would spotlight them. Happy President’s Day everyone!

Read Full Post »

Calling all Maple lovers

On Saturday, hubby and I took the kids up to our local nature center to learn about maple tapping and maple syrup making, as part of their annual Maple Sugaring Festival. I’m a huge fan of anything maple (excepting nasty fake maple syrup, once you’ve had the real thing you’ll never go back) and maybe someday when I’m rich I’ll own some maples, tap my own trees and make my own syrup because I’m weird and like to do things the old fashioned way like that.

We went on a little tour through the woods, where our guide showed us the basics of tapping a tree. First you need to make a Spile. You carve the end of a branch of wood with a soft pith (soft center) down to almost a point but not quite, shaving off the bark until it starts to turn yellow. Then you clear out the pith. Our guide just used a coat hanger that had been fashioned into a pusher outer sort of thingie (real descriptive, I know) and she shoved a hole through the branch, creating the Spile. Then, with a 7/16 inch drill bit, you drill a hole about two inches into the tree, put the Spile in and hammer it lightly until it is snuggly in place. Don’t hammer too hard or you might split the tree. Then you can hang your bucket on the Spile and the sap will drip into the bucket Here is a picture of the Spile our guide made and stuck in the Box Elder.

Maple tapping usually takes place in mid to late February or early March depending on where you live. Prime weather for tapping would be a freezing cold night followed by a day of at least 40 degree weather. This is because the tree sucks up tons of nutrients before the night freeze, storing up in case the freeze will be a while. But then the next day proves to be warm and so the tree doesn’t need to hold all of that in reserve and it flows back out as sap.

An interesting thing about the sap or sugar as it can be called is that it doesn’t freeze. Below is a picture of the watery part of the sap that has frozen. It’s hard to see but there is liquid in there and that is the sugar. So the guide just took the ice out and tossed it onto the ground and poured the liquid part into her collection jug.

Besides the tapping demonstration we also got to see how maple syrup is made. It takes a ton of sap to make just a little maple syrup. Pictured below are how many gallons of sap it takes to make just one gallon of maple syrup. There are forty five gallon jugs there.

We saw a modern evaporator used to make maple syrup

We also saw demonstrations of old school methods used for making maple syrup. This kid was using an early nineteenth century evaporator.

Over here we’ve got our trusty witches kettle.

This one is my favorite. Native American’s created this method of evaporation.

The wooden vat is filled with maple sap. Behind it is a fire in which the demonstrator has placed some large rocks. Once the rocks are sufficiently hot, he uses his wooden tongs to remove a rock and place it into the vat of sap. The liquid starts boiling and evaporating instantly. He keeps rotating the rocks like that until the sap has boiled down into syrup.

The liquid in the jug below is Maple Sap straight from the tree. We got to taste it and it pretty much tastes like sugar water. No hint of that delicious maple flavor in the sap. But somewhere in the evaporation process that flavor comes out. We also tasted fresh made maple syrup which is always divine. Another demonstrator carried around a jar of dirt, giving people granules to taste. Well, ok, so it wasn’t dirt. It was maple sugar but it looked like dirt. It didn’t taste like dirt though. It was delicious.

Our guide also told us that you can tap and make syrup from any type of tree. Though of course flavor will vary. She told us she wasn’t so keen on Black Walnut syrup, which is a bit tart for her tastes. Anyhow, I think I need to go make me something maple-y. Mmmmm.

Read Full Post »