Seriously Y’all
I am having to do a lot of editing of comments that have everything but our SSN in them! Please, no real names or identifying places. There actually are a lot of people we do not know reading, and safety is important. The Husband just read a comment that about gave him a stroke. And he is old now, so we must be careful!
Filed under Soap box | Comments (2)Delicious
A couple of weeks ago when Ma and Gabs were visiting, The Husband and I took Gabs and The Son to the Krispy Kreme. At their big store in Capital City, they have the bakery behind glass so you can see the doughnut making machinery. The doughnuts, and the cheeks, taste as good as they look. The Son loves machinery so he was superpsyched by the doughnut machines (Or perhaps it was just the sugar?). He was so cute and curious the guy operating the machine came up front and gave him a raw doughnut to play with. The Son said, “Ewww! Yuck!”, and then proceeded to try eating it.
Filed under Family-blame the DNA, Photography, The Son | Comments (2)A matter of faith.
Last night at VBS, the lesson was about Peter and Jesus walking on water, and the bible point was “Jesus gives us the power to be brave.” Do you know how hard it is to tell an eight-year old to just trust and have no fear? On Sunday the sermon was about the lilies of the field. God is clearly trying to tell me something.
I have written a little bit about depression and the reason I am on Lexapro. After seeing several different doctors and therapists, the crippling anxiety and hypochondria I was suffering was diagnosed as depression. I did not feel depressed. In fact, I never have. I did not cry for no reason, or not want to get out of bed. There were, however, days when I would spend hours upon hours googling symptom after symptom. There were nights, when I would clench my teeth so hard in my sleep , when I woke my face would be swollen. I would ask The Husband to take me to the E.R., ask my friends if I looked like I was having a stroke.
Before The Son was born, and when I had my last serious bout with what we now know was depression, I was CONVINCED I had a brain tumor. People may laugh, in fact I had a very dear friend make fun of me for some of the things I came up with. You just cannot understand what that kind of anxiety feels like until you have had it. To me it was real and serious and I was going to die before I got a chance to do anything with my life. It was my worst fear. Why was it my worst fear? I have grown up a Christian. I believe in eternal life, I know I am going to heaven. Yet the idea of dying young scared me so bad I would have panic attacks and think I was having a heart attack. I slowly worked through it, dealt with all of the grief and major changes which happened to me in such a short amount of time, and had several years where I never once thought I belonged on an episode of Medical Mysteries.
After The Son arrived in all of his blobby wonderfulness, I did go through a period of slight baby blues, but it was really not that serious. Then one day I was reading an article about Andrea Yates, the woman who killed five of her children. Bam! I was petrified of snapping. Snapping and hurting my baby. This is confusing, even for me, but I never wanted to hurt The Son. I never felt like I was going to hurt him, but I was afraid something would go haywire in my brain and cause me to harm my son. It was my new worst fear. It would cause me to not only lose him, my sweet darling baby who I loved beyond comprehension, but all of the other people whom I love at the same time (I cannot tell you how much our families love The Son, there is not a doubt in my mind he is the single most precious thing in about a dozen people’s life.) There would be no forgiveness or support for me if my nightmare came to fruition. There was something scarier than death now.
Instead of googling symptoms, I was reading in depth psychiatric papers on women who kill their children, trying to figure out what was different between them and me. I would try to keep myself out of situations these women were in (mostly lonely, isolated, over worked, poor). At the height of this fear, I was scared to be alone with my own baby. What if? What if I somehow went crazy too? For those of you wondering, women who are AFRAID of hurting babies NEVER actually harm their kids because they understand it is horrific. That is a BIG difference. Women like Andrea Yates do not understand they are doing something wrong. It may sound sick to you….and it may be what keeps me from hitting publish on this post, but I feel a lot of compassion for those women. They needed help and did not have the support system I have.
I was able to put words behind my fears and get help, both psychiatric and medical. I was suffering from a pretty common (COMMON! Why do we not know about this! Why is it not in What to Expect When You are Expecting? On the cover of Parents magazine? ((this is why I probably will hit publish))) form of PostPartum Depression. I took meds. I talked it out. I stopped trying to be a square peg in a round hole career wise. I got better. Now I am down to a microscopic dose of the drugs, and damn it all to hell, the anxiety is creeping back up on me. This time I am worried about being a good enough parent, or what would happen to The Son if something happened to me. I am handling it much better, it helps to know what your real problem is and makes it easier (but not easy) to rationalize your anxiety.
Why do I feel afraid at all? I am living the American Dream people! I am madly in love with my husband, and he is madly in love with me. We have a healthy, darling, happy child. We have a nice roof over our heads, plenty to eat, two cars that run (and one that doesn’t), and we get to spend time with each other, our family, and friends. We not only have a wonderful biological family, but a church family just as special. I know God has blessed my family and I with all of this, so why can’t I just trust He will continue to bless us, and stop the fear already? Am I such an immature Christian? Am I going to be forced to live my life on drugs because I cannot just let go? Will I pass this horrible gene/habit on to my fearless, faithful little boy? I am praying this is just a side effect of withdrawal, and once it all leaves my system, I will be brave. I understand Jesus gives us the power to be brave, I am just not sure I know it yet.
Filed under faith, lexapro lexplains it | Comments (7)Vacation my ass.
On second thought it is probably not that great of an idea to use the word ass in a blog post about church. Instead insert ….um…..Oh! Foot! The title should read Vacation my Foot. This is the week that dozens of children who we usually only see at Christmas, Easter, and chasing the ice cream truck join the half dozen, or so, kids who attend our church regularly in a five-night Jesus extravaganza we call Vacation Bible School. (I think I will pause here and mention I sincerely do not mean this to be sacrilegious. If it comes across that way then start over and read again in a lighthearted, Hey You goes to church multiple times a week kinda way) This year’s theme is “Power Lab”, so everything is bedecked in sciency stuff. We do science themed projects, play “experimental” games, watch a video about a talking chipmunk and a stressed, but not mad scientist. Oh, and learn that Jesus is powerful.
The last couple of years The Husband and I have been “crew” leaders. This means more than five, but less than ten, elementary schoolers pull on us and say, “Miss Hey You! Miss Hey You! She got more than me! But I wanted blue! Green is yucky. Miss Hey You, will you take me potty?” “Mr. Husband? Why does your toe look like that? Mr. Husband? Can I climb on you? Mr. Husband! Garret farted (I HATE THAT WORD!)” The funniest is that The Husband has one kid who calls him Coach Husband. It cracks me up every time I hear it because it is: a. Such a southern thing – all male teachers are “Coach”. b. My darling husband is about as far from a “Coach” as you can get. Unless you can coach children running around like banshees?
Because we are working together, but still have our own distinct groups, the differences in how we relate to kids is painfully obvious. I am VERY strict. I do not tolerate running around, leaving the group, talking out of turn, using even slightly foul language (do as I say, not as I do!), or being disrespectful. I also sing all the songs, dance and do all the hand motions to the music. I play all the games, do all the crafts, and generally am just excited to be doing whatever the curriculum requires. The Husband pretty much lets the kids do whatever. Their lines are nonexistent, never mind army straight like mine. They climb all over him, pick flowers out of the church garden, sit during the songs, and never finish their group questions. He does not participate in the same giddy way that I do, and is shy about getting up in front of them to lead. He is also so-o-o-o patient with them, he listens to them one-on-one. He sits next to them while they eat, and helps them with their projects. The kids adore him. We always request to be on the same team of “crews” because it comes down to the fact that we complement each other wonderfully.
We all come home hungry, exhausted, and happy. This is The Son’s first year to participate in something other than the nursery. Tonight when it was time to go we could not leave until he had kissed his teachers good-bye. He had sung, and danced, made crafts, played, and prayed with other toddlers. VBS is a lot of work, but it is worth it to give other kids that same feeling that he gets, and if they happen to decide that church is for more than Christmas carols and Easter egg hunts, then all the better.
Filed under Family-blame the DNA, Friends-All three of them, Soap box, The Husband, Time Suckers | Comments (8)Drumroll please.
And the winners of the first maybe annual huckablubber off are………ShoeShe wins first and JHJ comes in second. Congratulations!! Your Zune and gift card are on their way to you. Keep up the good work everyone else, just cause the contest is over does not mean that you can go back to eating Fritos for breakfast.
Filed under huckablubber | Comment (1)Have you seen the blogroll of late?
There are some funny, funny people there. I just this minute added 7daytrial because her post about her romantic getaway was an exact copy of every time The Husband and I try to go away together, (except for the smoking. Girl, you are way too smart to still be doing that sh!t, and if you see my brother doing it then smack him upside that huge, curly head for me). Remind me to tell you about our New Orleans get away sometime.
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Don’t forget to send me your weight loss updates!
Filed under Friends-All three of them | Comments (5)Huckablubber: week (HOLY CRAP) six of six
That’s all folks! It is over! Well, sorta. I have had a very impassioned request to let people post their results tomorrow because they only have Internet at work. Good point. So you now have until 5pm CST TOMORROW (Monday) ((July 14th)) to email me the total amount of pounds you have lost in the past six weeks. That gives you the chance for a couple of more workouts, and a salad for dinner.
I will be chasing around a herd of elementary schoolers and eating whatever they eat at Vacation Bible School 2008 – Welcome to the E.R.
Filed under huckablubber | Comments (5)