so we're all on the same page

dog that just turned a year old is still not house trained. apparently this is my fault since i am home with her all day every day. regardless of the fact that i have never house trained a dog in my life. please do not offer advice on this - i get way more than enough of that from my husband.



not only have i not successfully house trained a dog, i have three kids and have not successfully potty trained any of them. don't get me wrong - the older two go on the potty. still wear pull-ups at night, but go through the motions during the days. but i didn't teach them this. i just said to them, "here's the potty. what you have been depositing in your diaper, put it here instead." and i left them alone. eventually, they got it. drove my poor mother in law batty. and i do mean OffTheWall batty.



but the boy child - the one that turns three next month. diapers - 24/7. the only use he has for the toilet is to wash his hands in. thanks, no, i don't want advice on this either. eventually it will make my mother in law batty and she will do something about it. that or he will go to first grade in diapers and we all know that ain't gonna happen.



still no baby sitter. my father has once again come to texas to rescue me. i love that man. he cooks, cleans and runs kids around. PLUS he works for free. he bought a one way ticket to fly out here. and while i like to think this means he can and will stay as long as i need him - the reality is that he can grab his bag and leave whenever he has had enough. so far, i am on my really good behaviour. cannot say the same for my offspring. luckily they are his grandchildren and he tends to cut them a bit of slack.



read this article about breastfeeding in public. Americans - as a whole - are so freaked out about women's breasts. i do not get it. i breastfed all my babies. till they started biting me - then i put them out in the back yard and let them scavenge for themselves. (ever been bit on the nipple? you'd do the same!)



and while i was as discrete as possible - i nursed in private. i nursed in public. i nursed in front my dad, my brothers, my brothers in law, my pa in law, my girlfriends, their husbands. no wait - i nursed when AND WHERE my babies were hungry. OH YEAH! THAT'S WHY WE PULL OUR BOOBS OUT - to feed our babies. "no, I will not go feed my infant child sitting on a toilet in a nasty public bathroom. Why? You go eat your lunch in there??? be my guest."



no, i do not judge women who can not or do not breast feed their babies. i am not a lactation nazi. but holy crapping cow people - shut up and let the mothers feed their babies - however, whenever and where ever that baby needs nourishment!



BTW - KUDO's to Nordstroms for having the absolute best nursing rooms for mothers.



my son got a hair cut the other day. a real hack job. poor kid. i kept my calm through out the whole ordeal by telling myself over and over, "it's just hair. it'll grow back. it'll grow back"



speaking of hair, my mom was here right after Christmas. we had loaded up the kids and were on our way to town for some shopping. mom casually points out that i did not brush my kids hair before we left home. without pause i tell her, "school and church, mom. school and church." otherwise, if they want their hair done, they have to ask. and they won't ask. you know how they say "pick your battles." this ain't one of them.



okay. i think that's it for today.
i feel better now.

so i had this dream last night

Jimmy and Rosalyn Carter were guest speakers. (I love them)

I must have been some sort of college graduation - as we were in a very large auditorium.

I saw Ronald Regan leaving as I was getting there. Apparently my subconscious is not aware of his death.

The big news is that Oprah was there. In my dream. She has made appearances in my dream world several times in the past. And each time, she knows who I am. Not like we are best buds or anything - but she recognizes me and always calls me by name. Same thing last night. In the middle of the speechs and stuff she approaches me and wants me to help her unpackage and assemble a baby stroller for a doll. So I do. Go figure?!

Then I go back to the Green Room with her and Tom and Katy (Cruise) are there. I proceed to tell him very politely (okay, not so politely) what an idiot he is and if he does not believe in better mental living through pharmaceuticals he should come spend a month at my house with just me and my daughter. That would certainly convert his way of thinking or KILL him. My daughter and i in the same house for a month with neither of our meds - he would bash his own head in with pots and pans.

But back to Oprah. I just love her. I never watch her show any more. No time. But I do splurge and read her magazine when possible. I love that she is from Kosciusko, Mississippi. a home girl. I love that she is made person - successful because her own merits and hard work. and rich beyond my wildest dreams. and a HUGE philanthropist. Whenever I have caught her show, I almost ALWAYS agree with her opinions - and when not - I have very good food for thought. She battles her weigh and self image. i relate to that.

I have not developed an opinion on the girls school she just opened in Africa. i know there is controversy surrounding it. i just have not had the time to do adequate reading and research to form my own thoughts on the matter.

regardless, i love Oprah and what she stands for. i just know that if i ever meet her in real life - i will be crushed when she does not recognize me and call me by name...

This Is A Test

It is only a Test.
This test is brought to you by the Emergency Mother Association (EMA)

There is no need to panic or head for the hills.
Your oldest daughter is running a low grade fever
She must abstain from attending school today.
Your son refuses to watch another DVD
His eyes are square
Aforementioned offspring get along like the Hatfield's and McCoy's
You still cannot locate a full time baby sitter
It is too cold and wet for them to play outside
Nor can you lock them out of the house
You have voluntarily chosen to give up sugar
in an attempt to lose the stress fat gained last year.
Dixie Dog is one big furry muddy mess
Husband person gets to go to work (creep)
Away from the house (i hate him)
He did offer to bring home dinner
We may forgive him.

This has just been a test.

If this had been an actual emergency, the EMA would have done an immediate air drop of Calgon, red wine, dark chocolate, a masseuse, Nanny McPhee, and a five- course home cooked meal.

This concludes this test of the Emergency Mother Network.

on an upswing...

blame the meds or the mania.
i don't care.

it ain't over - the funk, that is.
but it's better

and since i am on an upswing - and i'd like to encourage that, thought i'd share a funny that recently occurred.

back in december when i found out i had polyps in my uterus that would have to be removed, i was mortified. and for the record, 'mortified' is WAY too weak a word to describe how i felt.

i could look at my kids and start crying. i researched the condition. this type of thing is not uncommon and is RARELY cancerous. but when it is your body. your uterus. your polyps. reason and sanity evaporate quickly.

so i was emotionally fragile. another gross understatement.

one night in bed, hubby asks "what's wrong."
me - starting to tear up, voice quivering ever so slightly, "i'm scared!"
him - "scared of what?"
me - "that it is going to be cancer." tears flowing freely now. nose starting to run.
him - "CANCER????"
me - "Yeah, CANCER! And I am scared that it can't be cured and i am scared I will die and leave these kids before I get them raised." throat closing up, nose and eyes flowing freely now. wipe both with back of PJ sleeve.
him - "YOU'RE SCARED! I'M THE ONE THAT SHOULD BE SCARED!"

and i know immediately he is thinking about having to raise our three precious little darlings all on his own.

and I start laughing. till it hurts. then crying again. till the sobs start again. i am a tear-stained, snotty mess.

I tell him when i finally can speak, "If i live - that's going to be the title of my book."

Guess I better get to writing, huh?

poor, poor, poor me, poor, poor, pitiful me

what is that song? It's been playing my head since i published my last entry. Linda Ronstadt maybe? too lazy to google it... anyway, it is my self proclaimed theme song this week.

a dear friend called me yesterday just to check in. we spoke a few minutes and i asked her if she had read my blog - as i figured that's why she was checking on me.
nope. she just knew i had been in a funk and was being a good friend. thank heavens for good friends!

my personal philosophy has always been that everyone is entitled to a really good pity party every now and again. wallow in it. pour the pitifuls all over you. moan and wail. beat your chest. and then get your butt up and get on with it.

the irony in my current situation is that i have been getting on with it. everything is getting done. the kids fed, clothed, brushed, homework done (most days). groceries bought. house work kept up. job work maintained. on-time for all Dr appointments and with the exception of an occasional temper tantrum/blow-up (by me) when my kids are ignoring me deliberately - externally - things look okay.

i have had episodes in the past where i have sat, stared at my hands and cried for three days straight. last year i left home for 24 hours and sat in a local hotel room and cried, wrote, read and stared at the walls. this is not that.

i just feel like my spirit is spent. all used up.

i am planning the Valentine treats my kids will take to school for their classmates. gotta make 40 something of them. Easter treats are in the planning stages as well.
I have three kids birthday parties between now and the end of March to plan and execute. am working on a special gift for my father's 70th birthday this month.

my theory is that if i keep going through the motions. if i keep doing the things that have to be done. should be done. must be done. that somehow my spirit will replenish itself. and if i am wrong - and my insides remain stale - then at least i have taken care of my family and they will be better for it.

and you know - i know i am not special. that everyone has their own demons. their own battles. but what i really want to know - the question that has been rolling around in my mind is this - Are there people out there - with average to above average intelligence - that are happy? not necessarily living in bliss all the time. but let's say 80% of the time they are content with their life situation.

do average people exist that are content with their lives the vast majority of the time? and i do believe contentment is a process - not a place - it is something that must continually be fed and watered. so are there folks out there that nurture themselves enough to maintain a relatively high level of contentment and happiness in their lives?

and if the answer is Yes - then what on God's Green Earth do they know/do/take that i don't???!!!

okay, who thinks t_cole thinks too much - raise your hand.
yeah, that's what i thought...

thanks for your comments and for caring. ignore me if you must till i get back to where i should be. and please remember - i know i am not special in the fact that i am depressed. i am one in a billion. this is just my little corner where i choose to voice it.
join me if you like. you are always welcome in my little world. the people are crazy here - but very hospitable.

my son needs a haircut

i think i am losing my mind
and then i think i have found it
and i try desperately to hold on to it - my sanity, that is.
it's like trying to store pudding in a colander

this and other meaningless banter
all rolling around in my head

i suffer from depression. and suffer is actually the appropriate word.
i started a new anti-depressant January 2005 and as it 'kicked-in' and did it's job, i felt less and less need to blog for therapy.
oh, i wrote tons of blog entries since then - all in my head. for my own purposes. they just never made it here.

at thanksgiving 2005 i released my babysitter from her employment with our family.
i have yet to hire a replacement.
which means I went through the entire holiday season without help. was the first time in four years i wrapped all my Christmas presents and put up all the decorations by myself.

about the same time i let her go, i found out i had polyps in my uterus.
in my head - for weeks - i kept repeating

i have polyps in my uterus
but i don't think it's very humorous

i was sure there was a song in there somewhere but that's as far as I ever got.

scared the living shit out out me.

on the 8th of december, i had out patient surgery. the polyps were benign and were removed.

clean bill of health - as far as female organs go...

money was tight for the holidays so i decided to make a lot of my presents. I knew getting decorations up, making, buying and wrapping gifts would be a huge ordeal as the holidays always are so early on, i just made up my mind that i would work my butt off and plow through it all. if for no other reason - for the kids.

Christmas was the last thing i wanted to do. but i kept hoping that if i faked it. if i pretended. if i went through the motions. if i did everything right that a mom of three is supposed to do - then, THEN i would have the Christmas spirit too.

and it worked briefly. the highlight of the season for me was our pageant at church. i felt 'it' there. which i guess is where you are supposed to feel the Christmas spirit so that worked out nicely.

then back to the rush rush rush. Drive 10 hours to Mississippi with two sick kids, one ILL kid, one large dog and a grumpy, exhausted hubby.

shortly after arriving my daughter accidentally broke one of the gifts i had made. it was completely an accident. it could EASILY be repaired (and was) but I lost it. i mean i COMPLETELY lost it. i screamed, cried and wailed so hard for so long i busted blood vessels under my eyes. no joke. permanent reminders of this episode.

the rest of the trip and holiday at home are somewhat of a blur. i was utterly exhausted but determined to do what i could to 'create memories' for the kids. and there were some really nice moments for the kids. we pulled that off at least.

my parents were great. my mom came back to texas with us and spent 10 days or so at my home. just having her here was a balm for my soul. (explain that b/c we have never spent such a long stretch together without one of us trying to kill the other one)

i continued to push myself. i had work to do, a house guest i wanted to take care of and three kids at home for the rest of the holidays. one kid still quite sick.

did go to a fabulous new year's eve party and mom baby sat. bonus.

but then my Mom left. kids went back to school. still no baby sitter for two (almost three) year old son at home. job work to do. house to clean. bills to pay. dishes to wash. baby sitter to hire. laundry to do. carpool to run. normal everyday stuff that normal every day people do.

and i dissolve into a puddle of worthless human flesh. all i want to do is sleep. and eat. did i mention i gained 20 pounds last year. lovely, huh?

and sleep.
and eat.

and eat.
and sleep.

so i am in a funk - not full out - as the meds prevent be from falling into the abyss. but i can tell if the meds were not in my system, i would be non-functioning. i despise this cloud in my soul feeling.

i tell my hubby. he has all but quit trying to understand me and my illness.

i tell my dad. he listens. and relates as best he can. and finally he tells me that sometimes you have to just 'dig deep' and 'push through it.' and he is right.

i talk to my mom about it. sometimes i think she understands better than anyone as i remember her (when I was a child) sometimes acting out then the way I feel on the inside now. and she does understand. and empathise. and finally she tells me that i am made of stronger stuff than this. that she and my paternal grandmother were both survivors and lived through their own hells at times - without the benefit of pharmaceuticals, i imagine.

so finally i talk to my shrink. he ups my dose of one med and writes me a new script. i am now up to three meds to help me feel 'normal.'

Shrink tells me i need to go to counseling. I start laughing at him - and then start crying. tell me something i don't know.
and when exactly, pray tell, would you like for me to go to counseling?? before or after carpool? should i schedule it after i drop my 7 (almost 8) year old daughter off with her counselor? or perhaps I can squeeze it in b/t laundry and the dishes. and do ya think they'd mind if i bring my two year old son with me since i can't seem to find a baby sitter to hire?

speaking of which,
my son really needs a haircut.

this is me - and I don't even smoke...