Thursday, April 29, 2010

We call them "Mood Swings"

It was another rough night. Eden is just going through a time, and in the bounds of this living space, there comes a point of crying it out that is too much for the rest of us to bear. Or sleep through. I was up several times with her last night, and then, when Boom Boom had woken up early to sneak out for a run, Madee woke up and cried and cried and cried and seriously I am in a hurricane of whining and crying lately.

And that is a lot of my daily existence.

And some times are harder than others. Because sometimes I just don't have the energy to attack a mountain of whining and crying and clouds and cold. Sometimes I just don't know how we are going to make it through the day.

And then I have some coffee. Take my Prozac. Hop on Twitter.

Read a little from this guy's website. Cry a little.

Hug my babies. Real hard.

And find that strength that isn't in me, but is just from somewhere else.

I pack a lunch, get the girls fed and dressed, and take them out in the world to show them things, even if we are just driving by them and pointing from the window as rain beats down on the truck.

It isn't easy to be the Mom.

But I also know that it isn't easy being them either, being Eden, dealing with the mouth pain, not being able to help herself to things she cannot reach, not being able to say what she already means. wanting everything that Madee has, not being able to walk yet, because she really wants to.

And it also isn't easy being Madee, being in this swirl of emotion and new reaches of awareness that just make everything confusing and strange and uncomfortable. Feeling out of control of things and events, but understanding more and more that she could control these things, or that she will at some point. Being told "NO!" all the time. Being thrust into sharing everything - her mom and dad, her toys, her dogs, her space, her time, her food, at a time when she is just discovering ownership and independence and individuality, yet is still vulnerable to feeling like or wanting to be a baby again.

And Boom Boom? Well it isn't easy being him either. I won't get into why, because he is old enough to tell you himself, but he is tired and stressed and dealing with his own things right now.

Oh, and there I go again avoiding talking about myself. I guess I am not in the best place right now. I don't want to talk about it, I just want out. Out of the funk, out of the fog from being so tired, out of the emotion that is 3 females taking turns crying in our house. And I don't want to talk about it because I hate to admit weakness. It is like once I do, things start getting worse and the crap starts to pile on to test just how much I can carry before I fall down. And it's little things.

It's all little things! (well, except the lack of sleep!) but seriously, things are looking up in so many realms that I should be enjoying those developments (moving to FL, upgrading my blog) and I just want to cry because Madee is helping herself to the refrigerator YET AGAIN for what is like her 4 or 5th yogurt in 24 hours, despite the fact that ask her not to help herself, despite the fact that I feed her in the morning, despite the fact that now I'm crying because I feel like I must not feed my GIGANTIC GODZILLA children enough.

So here goes my pep talk, welcome one and all, seriously, if you ever need a pep talk COME TO ME I am like a SUNSHINE ENEMA.


I have a dream. And in my dream, my new BFF from twitter, who only lives 2 hours away, and I jump a plane for Vegas, buy gorgeous new clothes and go dancing and drinking and hustling gambling winnings from old bald men for MORE GORGEOUS CLOTHES and then end up renting Segways and chucking hot dogs at at the porn card flickers while drinking vodka tonics and chanting "Big Freaking Potato" all night. Then we go into a tattoo parlor and get a tramp stamp of loaded potatoes with bacon and cheese and then run by the chapel to become "blood sisters" in a ceremony presided by a big lady Elvis. Old Bloated Elvis, not the cute one.

And then we go bet all the rest of our money on Keno while eating chicken fried steak and drunk dialing everybody in our cell phone lists and then we win a BAZILLION dollars and BUY BLOGHER and we are the QUEENS OF THE BLOGOSPHERE and we run around arm in arm singing that "Schlameel Schlamozzle" song from Laverne and Shirley.

And now I've found it. I have my strength to make this a wonderful day.

All because of my new imaginary friend.


Alrighty kiddos! lets get out of the house!


Anonymous said...

::hugs:: I hope to you that someday your dream of a girl's Vegas trip comes true! Oh and the blogher part too.

I definitely agree with it being the little things! I tell my husband that all the time.

meagan, the pretend writer said...

ill totally come and babysit! really! and it does get better and easier. promise.

hasenfeffer incorporated

Jenny said...

I am sorry you are going through such a hard time. I know the meaning of mother's guilt - I have it a lot. But you are a great mom and an amazing woman.

Just for the record - you can't find strength that isn't in you. It was there all along. Lying dormant, hiding from you. You are strong and you will make it.

I am sending you good vibes!


BrerMatt said...

Do you remember watching Little House on the Prairie when you were young, or seeing it on TV?

That was a family of approximately a dozen all living in two rooms, with no plumbing, no refrigerator, no television, no libraries, and no Twitter. They woke up before sunrise, went to bed when they were tired (like 6pm).

The children went to school in a one room schoolhouse AFTER waking up, getting eggs from chickens, milking their yak, weeding the flowerbed, and churning their own butter, which they ate like yogurt because yogurt had not been invented, along with toothbrushes and microwave ovens.

When the kids came home from writing cuneiform all day on their clay tablets, they had to go work in the fields, where they didn't have tractors. (They did have dynamite, though, and that's how Lyle Alzedo died, and left little bits everywhere like Dr. Artz, and may also be how Mary went blind.)

But the thing is, those kids turned out pretty good. Melissa Gilbert headed up the Screen Actors Guild, and she's a total hottie. Your kids have it way better than them. You have a microwave instead of a wood stove, electricity, even. Boom Boom brings home the bacon in a better job than the dangerous stuff Pa did in the fields with the dynamite. And you have a kick ass RV instead of a covered wagon hauled by yaks or yetis.

I have more thoughts on this, but I want you to chew on this first.

Anonymous said...

Wow, that Matt is good at putting everything in perspective.

Thanks for fighting for this family babe. The girls and I appreciate all that you do. Our state of flux if tough on everyone. I know not everything will change; but I look forward to putting our feet into more permanence and routine in the coming weeks and months.

I am thankful for all that we are and all that we have. Some days are difficult, but I wouldn't trade this life for anything. Thank you for taking this long walk with me. We both know I am a much much better person with you than I was without you.

I love you and cannot imagine life without you.

Thank you!

Jerseygyrl said...

And this too shall pass...

When you come back to FL, I shall take you out for several drinks..ON ME! {{{HUGS}}}

Dani_Zaz said...

I, too, struggle with a lot of what you are going through. Motherhood is hard sometimes, I like how you handle it. Touring the sites on a rainy day or daydreaming of something better. Getting time by myself is hard. Heck, I rarely go anywhere without my son. Looking forward to a day/week or bubble bath ALONE. Cheers

Family Sized Fun said...

thanks for the love, yall
maybe we could ALL go to vegas
but only if you are in for the tat

matt: nice. way to make me realize how spoiled i am!
oh, and Boom Boom, I AM SPOILED.

i KNOW there are moms in THE OLDEN DAYS that wish they had it this good!

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