My most recent conquest was The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. While this is an expected choice for me, it is historical fiction - my favorite genre, the way the story is told is unique. Death is the narrator. Yes, Death. This seems to be an odd choice until you know the story is set in Nazi Germany during World War II. Suddenly the choice of narrator goes from strange to intriguing.
Death tells the story of a young girl named Liesel Memminger. The story opens with Liesel and her brother being sent to live with foster parents (we never find out why) in Munich. On the train her brother dies and Liesel has to go live with strangers all alone. It turns out she does not end up in Munich proper, but in Molching. Molching is a poorer area and the Hubermanns live in the poor area of town. Hans and Rosa Hubermann are her foster parents. Rosa is described as being a wardrobe of a woman while Hans is described as having silver eyes. The evolution of the relationship between the Hubermanns and Liesel is heartwarming. I truly felt connected with every character in this story.
Zusak assumes we all have a basic understanding of World War II. He really does not delve into the military aspects of the conflict. He focuses on the lives that could have been lived at that time. His characters unfold beautifully while he advances the plot steadily. He explores the harships of rationing. The wrath of the Nazi leadership. The terror of air raids. Zusak is able to maintain suspense while revealing elements of the story at unexpected times. He also tackles an unconventional topic: words. The importance of words in our modern world. The way words can be used both positively and negatively. The prose in the novel is beautiful. The images Zusak created are vivid and real. He uses contrast to drive home his points. It is an incredibly well written book.
I truly enjoyed The Book Thief. I highly recommend it to anyone looking for something different to read. I hope this review comes close to doing the work justice. However I feel I have not. Hopefully you will read it and find out for yourself.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Elephants
This morning was fascinating. Our zoo had an Elephant Open House. They provided kolaches, coffee and juice for the humans to munch on for breakfast. The morning got started with the elephants showing off their tricks. The tricks ranged from trumpeting to headstands. Evidently an elephant will do anything for an apple. One of the elephants even painted a picture. Next, the elephant barn was opened so we could explore their house. It was so cool. They like to play with toys just like kids. I was amazed at how many of their toys were the same ones that currently litter my family room's floor. Once the elephants had finished their breakfast, it was bath time. Anyone who was interested was invited to grab a brush and scrub down one of the animals. I was amazed at how tough their skin feels. I had to really scrub to get in between some of her huge skin folds. Finally, there was a public weigh in, of Methai anyway. She weighed over eight thousand pounds. We all had so much fun. It was amazing to be so close to such magnificent creatures.
Each of these tasks are performed daily by the elephant keepers. They feed, bathe and exercise the elephants daily. They also clean up the stalls and the yard. Weekly the keepers draw each animal's blood. They also have weekly weigh-ins, blood pressure and pulse readings. The elephants receive better health care than most Americans.
As much care as these animals receive, their population is dwindling. For unknown reasons, fewer elephants are being born into captivity, despite rigorous attempts. Once they are born, a full 70% are dying of the elephant herpes virus. Sadly, the story in the wild is much the same. Thankfully, there were great strides in research this summer to help understand the virus.
Can you imagine a world without elephants? I would be devastated if my grandchildren didn't get the opportunity to enjoy these magnificent creatures. I hope you can help support your local zoo. Go see the animals, have a meal, and buy a souvenir. All those things will help put money in the pockets of people who know how to help.
I know this is an unusual topic for me. I just couldn't help myself. I think elephants are one of God's most amazing creations. Thanks for indulging me.
Each of these tasks are performed daily by the elephant keepers. They feed, bathe and exercise the elephants daily. They also clean up the stalls and the yard. Weekly the keepers draw each animal's blood. They also have weekly weigh-ins, blood pressure and pulse readings. The elephants receive better health care than most Americans.
As much care as these animals receive, their population is dwindling. For unknown reasons, fewer elephants are being born into captivity, despite rigorous attempts. Once they are born, a full 70% are dying of the elephant herpes virus. Sadly, the story in the wild is much the same. Thankfully, there were great strides in research this summer to help understand the virus.
Can you imagine a world without elephants? I would be devastated if my grandchildren didn't get the opportunity to enjoy these magnificent creatures. I hope you can help support your local zoo. Go see the animals, have a meal, and buy a souvenir. All those things will help put money in the pockets of people who know how to help.
I know this is an unusual topic for me. I just couldn't help myself. I think elephants are one of God's most amazing creations. Thanks for indulging me.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Healing
I had forgotten how the beginning of the school year is also beckons the first round of colds. As evidenced by the last 3.5 years, I love to get whatever virus afflicts my offspring. I am certain it is due to the close quarters of caring for a sick child. I had a morning show on this week where an expert suggested we, as parents, should wear gloves and, especially, masks while caring for our flu-ridden kiddo. Or, alternatively, the aforementioned child should wear the mask to protect the whole family. Clearly this "expert" does not have really small kids. Those kids also don't have sensory issues - Sweet Pea would totally lose it if I tried to place a mask on her while she was feeling under the weather. I can't even imagine the fight Panda Girl would put up. I'd probably get a black eye from all the thrashing.
We seem to have survived this week of colds. Three of the four of us ended up sick (Sweet Pea appears to have been spared). Thankfully this was a mild virus. The main symptom for Husband and I was fatigue. Thankfully for me, I love coffee. So, in some ways the week was not so bad. I realized early on that if I skipped the coffee, I felt like I had just run three marathons followed by an impossible spin class. However, if I indulged and drank coffee every three to four hours all day, I felt mostly fine.
While not all physical illnesses are this easy to manage (please don't think I am in any way saying serious and life-threatening diseases are easy - those are not the physical illnesses to which I am referring, think colds and flu bugs), I am very aware of how much more work is needed in managing mental illnesses. It is not a matter of taking some meds, doing some therapy and then you are functioning well again in six to eight weeks. I have been fighting with depression for a year. I am not close to functioning well yet. Granted, I didn't seek real treatment until recently. I don't think I am an unusual case. Think about it, how many women run to a doctor for a lump in their breast, as they should, but refuse to seek out a mental health professional? Thus my point is that we need to take our emotional well-being seriously. How do we think we can properly care for our sweet children if we can barely get out of bed each morning? If we can't find joy in our lives each day? If we can't meet our kids where they are and appreciate them and the phase they are experiencing?
Thankfully we have all physically healed around here from our inaugural week of colds. Tomorrow we will have no problem getting up early. We are even thrilled with our plans. We are going to go have breakfast with the elephants at the zoo. I can't wait!
We seem to have survived this week of colds. Three of the four of us ended up sick (Sweet Pea appears to have been spared). Thankfully this was a mild virus. The main symptom for Husband and I was fatigue. Thankfully for me, I love coffee. So, in some ways the week was not so bad. I realized early on that if I skipped the coffee, I felt like I had just run three marathons followed by an impossible spin class. However, if I indulged and drank coffee every three to four hours all day, I felt mostly fine.
While not all physical illnesses are this easy to manage (please don't think I am in any way saying serious and life-threatening diseases are easy - those are not the physical illnesses to which I am referring, think colds and flu bugs), I am very aware of how much more work is needed in managing mental illnesses. It is not a matter of taking some meds, doing some therapy and then you are functioning well again in six to eight weeks. I have been fighting with depression for a year. I am not close to functioning well yet. Granted, I didn't seek real treatment until recently. I don't think I am an unusual case. Think about it, how many women run to a doctor for a lump in their breast, as they should, but refuse to seek out a mental health professional? Thus my point is that we need to take our emotional well-being seriously. How do we think we can properly care for our sweet children if we can barely get out of bed each morning? If we can't find joy in our lives each day? If we can't meet our kids where they are and appreciate them and the phase they are experiencing?
Thankfully we have all physically healed around here from our inaugural week of colds. Tomorrow we will have no problem getting up early. We are even thrilled with our plans. We are going to go have breakfast with the elephants at the zoo. I can't wait!
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Independence
Panda Girl is our independent child. She has always been short. Lately, she has grown enough to discover a whole new world: climbing. It started innocently enough with the couch. Instead of chasing her off, I made sure she knew the Rules of the Couch: no standing, no walking, get down on your tummy and go feet first. She quickly learned to (mostly) follow those rules. Thus, a new love of climbing was born. She has now mastered going down the stairs (much scarier than going up) and her step stool. The step stool still scares me, but she is getting better with it. I just worry that this new found independence will cause injury.
I was not an independent child. So, my parents diligently went about fixing that problem. Let's face it, a five year old who asks for help with a simple task is annoying. The problem with this "fixing" is that it was pushed a bit too hard (or, probably more accurately, I took this lesson way too far). Thus, I. HATE. ASKING. FOR. HELP.
As I have discussed before, this is not a good trait. So, I am trying to break the cycle. I am still learning how to balance my desire for my girls to be independent, while allowing them the freedom to ask for help. I don't want their desire to be independent to cause them to fall flat on their little faces too often. However, I don't want to hover too much. They need to learn to fall and pick themselves back up.
I was not an independent child. So, my parents diligently went about fixing that problem. Let's face it, a five year old who asks for help with a simple task is annoying. The problem with this "fixing" is that it was pushed a bit too hard (or, probably more accurately, I took this lesson way too far). Thus, I. HATE. ASKING. FOR. HELP.
As I have discussed before, this is not a good trait. So, I am trying to break the cycle. I am still learning how to balance my desire for my girls to be independent, while allowing them the freedom to ask for help. I don't want their desire to be independent to cause them to fall flat on their little faces too often. However, I don't want to hover too much. They need to learn to fall and pick themselves back up.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Mirror, mirror
When I was pregnant for the first time, I remember looking in the mirror and at Husband and imagining how this baby would look. My expectation was that she would look just like me.
Sweet Pea is my oldest child. She taught me how to be a mom. She showed me how much a heart can grow to accommodate a child. She has taught me patience. She is everything I expected her to be, yet she is not the child I envisioned when I was pregnant. Sweet Pea has my eyes, that can't be disputed. Those eyes are her most remarkable feature. They seem to look through you. Those eyes are where the physical resemblance begins and ends. She looks so much like her daddy, it is crazy. However no one ever called her a boy, even as a baby.
I also imagined this little girl would have her daddy's personality. He is brilliant, kind, amiable, patient and thoughtful. These are the traits I wanted my child to possess. So what happened? She is just like me. She has no patience. She craves attention all the time. She is a perfectionist. She frustrates really easily. She is bossy. These are my traits which I like the least. So, of course they are the ones Sweet Pea inherited.
One would think since I understand her so well that I would be patient with these flaws. However, I find myself getting irritated. Not so much at her, but at myself (well, sometimes at her too). It is not fun to see your worst traits on display in your beautiful little girl. Don't get me wrong, she is sweet and sympathetic and curious. These are all wonderful gifts that far outweigh the flaws. Thus, I suppose I did get a mini version of myself, just not in the way I expected.
Thankfully I would not change her a bit. I just have to learn to love the flaws in her. And I do. The unexpected part is that she is teaching me to love my own flaws too. This is a lesson I never expected but appreciate deeply. I suppose that is why she is like me. God knew he had to teach me to fully embrace myself. He also knew the best way to do that was through my sweet child.
Sweet Pea is my oldest child. She taught me how to be a mom. She showed me how much a heart can grow to accommodate a child. She has taught me patience. She is everything I expected her to be, yet she is not the child I envisioned when I was pregnant. Sweet Pea has my eyes, that can't be disputed. Those eyes are her most remarkable feature. They seem to look through you. Those eyes are where the physical resemblance begins and ends. She looks so much like her daddy, it is crazy. However no one ever called her a boy, even as a baby.
I also imagined this little girl would have her daddy's personality. He is brilliant, kind, amiable, patient and thoughtful. These are the traits I wanted my child to possess. So what happened? She is just like me. She has no patience. She craves attention all the time. She is a perfectionist. She frustrates really easily. She is bossy. These are my traits which I like the least. So, of course they are the ones Sweet Pea inherited.
One would think since I understand her so well that I would be patient with these flaws. However, I find myself getting irritated. Not so much at her, but at myself (well, sometimes at her too). It is not fun to see your worst traits on display in your beautiful little girl. Don't get me wrong, she is sweet and sympathetic and curious. These are all wonderful gifts that far outweigh the flaws. Thus, I suppose I did get a mini version of myself, just not in the way I expected.
Thankfully I would not change her a bit. I just have to learn to love the flaws in her. And I do. The unexpected part is that she is teaching me to love my own flaws too. This is a lesson I never expected but appreciate deeply. I suppose that is why she is like me. God knew he had to teach me to fully embrace myself. He also knew the best way to do that was through my sweet child.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Hidden in Darkness
The little ladies love to play hide and go seek. The hiding places are rarely unique, but it is fun nonetheless. One of their favorite places to hide is in our back stairwell. If the light is kept off, you would not think there are stairs behind the cabinet that doubles as a door. The darkness is the key to this particular hiding place.
I went back to MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) today at church. Once again, I was glad I went and had a great time. We didn't have a speaker today. Today we spent the day getting to know the other women in the organization. We moved around to different tables and talked to ladies who are not in our assigned small groups.
As one can expect, some groups were great and others were not so great. During the last rotation we were to open up to the other women. The idea was to share something going on in our lives. Something to the other women could lift up in prayer. I was instantly nervous when I quickly realized that most women in my current group were not comfortable sharing anything personal. The first prayer request was for a father to become a Christian. While that is a lovely prayer request, it did not seem to fit the parameters of the exercise. I mean seriously people! Those of us who are Christians all have people in our lives who are not. In the grand scheme of things I understand this is an important issue. However, in this setting it did not seem appropriate since her aforementioned father doesn't even live in the same state. It hardly qualified as a personal issue. It seemed like she was giving us the answer she thought we would want to hear at church. Inwardly, I hoped the next woman would be more up front with us. She was a little better. At least her request involved someone who lived under her same roof. Her husband is unhappy at work. While it is not fun to live with someone who is struggling at work, I was disappointed that once again it was not that personal a request.
I was up next. I took a deep breath and thought, why wasn't this asked in that third discussion group? Those women were easier to talk to and seemed invested in the exercise. However, few things in life are that easy. While I lamented my situation, I realized that I was at a crossroads. I could take the easy road and ask for patience with my family or I could be honest and open up about my current struggle. Would these women, who seemed bent on putting a very polished face forward, judge me? If they did judge me, what was the worst that would come of said judgement? Is one of these women struggling with this same issue and just too ashamed to open up? If so, would my honesty be helpful? I am proud to say I decided on full, although brief, disclosure. I didn't feel the need to go into gory details, but I didn't sugar-coat my life either.
While the next two ladies did not really open up much, I felt respected. (One of those ladies asked us to pray that she could get her three year old back on track memorizing scripture. Once again, a nice idea but not something I bought as a "struggle".) One of the women later told me she thought I was brave. While I am not looking for praise, I did appreciate it. I felt somewhat validated. Who knows, maybe she is struggling too. Maybe she is not ready to come forward publicly with a private battle. I only hope that by putting myself "out there" that I can shed some light on a common problem that has been hidden in darkness for far too long. Let's face it, it is not for someone else to come find us and pull us out of our dark hiding places. We need to come out into the light by ourselves.
I went back to MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) today at church. Once again, I was glad I went and had a great time. We didn't have a speaker today. Today we spent the day getting to know the other women in the organization. We moved around to different tables and talked to ladies who are not in our assigned small groups.
As one can expect, some groups were great and others were not so great. During the last rotation we were to open up to the other women. The idea was to share something going on in our lives. Something to the other women could lift up in prayer. I was instantly nervous when I quickly realized that most women in my current group were not comfortable sharing anything personal. The first prayer request was for a father to become a Christian. While that is a lovely prayer request, it did not seem to fit the parameters of the exercise. I mean seriously people! Those of us who are Christians all have people in our lives who are not. In the grand scheme of things I understand this is an important issue. However, in this setting it did not seem appropriate since her aforementioned father doesn't even live in the same state. It hardly qualified as a personal issue. It seemed like she was giving us the answer she thought we would want to hear at church. Inwardly, I hoped the next woman would be more up front with us. She was a little better. At least her request involved someone who lived under her same roof. Her husband is unhappy at work. While it is not fun to live with someone who is struggling at work, I was disappointed that once again it was not that personal a request.
I was up next. I took a deep breath and thought, why wasn't this asked in that third discussion group? Those women were easier to talk to and seemed invested in the exercise. However, few things in life are that easy. While I lamented my situation, I realized that I was at a crossroads. I could take the easy road and ask for patience with my family or I could be honest and open up about my current struggle. Would these women, who seemed bent on putting a very polished face forward, judge me? If they did judge me, what was the worst that would come of said judgement? Is one of these women struggling with this same issue and just too ashamed to open up? If so, would my honesty be helpful? I am proud to say I decided on full, although brief, disclosure. I didn't feel the need to go into gory details, but I didn't sugar-coat my life either.
While the next two ladies did not really open up much, I felt respected. (One of those ladies asked us to pray that she could get her three year old back on track memorizing scripture. Once again, a nice idea but not something I bought as a "struggle".) One of the women later told me she thought I was brave. While I am not looking for praise, I did appreciate it. I felt somewhat validated. Who knows, maybe she is struggling too. Maybe she is not ready to come forward publicly with a private battle. I only hope that by putting myself "out there" that I can shed some light on a common problem that has been hidden in darkness for far too long. Let's face it, it is not for someone else to come find us and pull us out of our dark hiding places. We need to come out into the light by ourselves.
New Book Choice
I started looking for a new book to read before I finished The White Queen. I was ready to move on to something totally different. Well, I do believe I accomplished that mission. I am currently reading The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. This book has a unique narrator, Death. The book is set in Nazi Germany, thus the narrator actually seems appropriate. I was intrigued by the concept of this book and I could not pass it up. I am about a third of the way through and I have enjoyed it thus far. I won't go into details yet, but I'm hoping to have it finished by this weekend. Stay tuned for the review!
Monday, September 14, 2009
Book Review Time!
I have been remiss with writing this past week. It isn't because I have nothing to say. Those who know me well understand that it is a rare situation when I am speechless. I have been procrastinating writing a review of The White Queen by Philippa Gregory. One of my favorite books is Ms. Gregory's The Other Boleyn Girl (the movie did not do it justice). Thus, I was excited to read her newest novel. However, I was disappointed. Sigh.
The White Queen is a novel that takes place in 15th century England during the war of the roses. The primary character is Elizabeth Woodville. She is a widow with two sons when she meets the King of England. Elizabeth, whose family has always been loyal to the House of Lancaster, marries King Edward IV of the House of York. In the novel, they marry for love and have many children together. These were not easy times in England. Edward had to constantly fight for his crown. Thus, it was a time of untrusted allies, war and murder. The action should have the makings of a great novel. The historical aspects are indeed interesting. However, the novel lacks heart.
Philippa Gregory's other works were made great by the depth of the historical figures she brought to life on the page. I was expecting the characters to jump off the page and come to life before my eyes. I'm not totally sure why that did not happen with this novel. It may be that the project was too ambitious. I don't know that Ms. Gregory could aptly portray a deep character whilst keeping up with all the history contained in the book. I did not find myself either pulling for or despising Elizabeth. Thus, I was disappointed. I wanted to want to read each day. I wanted to care deeply for an interesting and flawed woman. I just never got there with this novel.
This book is supposed to be the first in a series of three novels about the war of the roses. I will probably read the next two. I just hope I enjoy them more than I liked this one.
The White Queen is a novel that takes place in 15th century England during the war of the roses. The primary character is Elizabeth Woodville. She is a widow with two sons when she meets the King of England. Elizabeth, whose family has always been loyal to the House of Lancaster, marries King Edward IV of the House of York. In the novel, they marry for love and have many children together. These were not easy times in England. Edward had to constantly fight for his crown. Thus, it was a time of untrusted allies, war and murder. The action should have the makings of a great novel. The historical aspects are indeed interesting. However, the novel lacks heart.
Philippa Gregory's other works were made great by the depth of the historical figures she brought to life on the page. I was expecting the characters to jump off the page and come to life before my eyes. I'm not totally sure why that did not happen with this novel. It may be that the project was too ambitious. I don't know that Ms. Gregory could aptly portray a deep character whilst keeping up with all the history contained in the book. I did not find myself either pulling for or despising Elizabeth. Thus, I was disappointed. I wanted to want to read each day. I wanted to care deeply for an interesting and flawed woman. I just never got there with this novel.
This book is supposed to be the first in a series of three novels about the war of the roses. I will probably read the next two. I just hope I enjoy them more than I liked this one.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Perfectly Imperfect
I am someone who is highly critical of myself. I expect superhuman efforts and results. I often think of needing sleep as a weakness. I like to think that I am above normal human needs. Clearly, this has caused me some issues. I'm not sure why my expectations are so crazy. I have been this way for as long as I can remember. I suppose it is just my personality coupled with being an oldest child.
I have always been a perfectionist. In many ways this has been an asset. It propelled me to get good grades. I was good at my job in the corporate world because I would not accept results that were sub par. However, in more ways it has been a detriment. I have not tried new things for fear of failure. It has been very hard on my self esteem. Let's face it. I'm human. If I expect perfection, I am going to be - and have been - disappointed constantly.
While I am really happy with how much Sweet Pea loves her new blanket, to me it is riddled with imperfections. The quilt would not win any awards. It was clearly a first attempt. Regardless, Sweet Pea loves it. So I am choosing to see the beauty in my creation. I like that I had a goal. I like that I had to use my brain to solve the problems that cropped up along the way. I like that it was a creative project. Thus, I am choosing to see the beauty in it, especially in the flaws.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Another Book Review...
I have recently confided my diagnosis of postpartum depression. It has been a battle, but I am thankful to feel as if I am winning the war. To learn how someone else coped with this disease I read Down Came the Rain My Journey Through Postpartum Depression by Brooke Shields. I chose her book because I appreciated how she had been so publicly candid about her struggle.
The book's early chapters outline Brooke's struggle with infertility. Evidently fertility treatments can make some women more susceptible to postpartum depression. She also explains both the physical and emotional pain of a miscarriage. It seems once she conceives her daughter Rowan the pregnancy is uneventful. She feels well and strong. She takes good care of herself. In short, she did everything right.
The month leading up to delivery she experiences a highly personal loss. The delivery also does not go well. She has major complications. As a celebrity she also has privacy issues in the hospital. Once she finally gets home, everything starts to fall apart. The rest of the book chronicles her realization that she needs help and what she does to cope with the disease. At the end she summarizes the decisions she made which were helpful and those which were detrimental to her recovery.
Overall I enjoyed her memoir. It was an easy read and was relatively well written. She was encouraging and honest. I truly appreciate her coming forward to help erase any stigma associated with this disease.
While reading, it was comforting to know someone else had been in a similar situation and had come out the other side healthy and strong. In some ways her depression was more obvious to those around her since its onset was immediately after delivery. Postpartum depression can come on any time in the first year after the baby's birth. Mine didn't hit until three to four months postpartum. Mine was also more gradual. One day was hard. Then the next was not bad. Then the next couple of days were tough. Pretty soon all the days were tough and I did not even see how unhappy I had become. After about four months I reached a breaking point and knew something was off. I couldn't really put my finger on the problem, but I knew something had to change.
So, I started exercising. Usually this is a good idea for women struggling with depression. Sadly, it didn't really help in my case. This is mostly because the exercise caused me to lose my milk supply. The reduction in my milk supply caused my breastfed baby to wake more frequently in the night. Poor Panda Girl was hungry. At this point she was eight months old and had never tasted formula. I tried to feed her some to supplement and she hated it. I started to eat more to make up for the calories I was burning working out. Instead of increasing my dwindling milk supply, the eating caused me to gain weight. In the meantime I am sure my hormones were probably all over the place. I also have thyroid disease and I am sure it played a role in my struggle. At this time Sweet Pea, my very stubborn child, was refusing to potty train. So there I was with two kids in diapers, up several times a night and I had no real break to take care of myself on a regular basis. I was exhausted. I was uninterested. I was mad as a hornet at my situation.
I was able to wean Panda Girl when she was eleven months. Thankfully she loves whole milk. The first night she had a bottle of whole milk she slept through the night and never looked back. That same week Sweet Pea finally consented to being potty trained. At that point we were headed in the right direction. I was sure I would start to feel better soon. I started exercising more, hoping that would hasten my recovery. Nothing seemed to work. I still longed to crawl into bed all day, every day.
Once I realized how tired I really was, I was certain my problem had its root in my thyroid issues. One of the biggest symptoms of Hashimoto's Disease is fatigue. My endocrinologist's appointment was just a couple of months away, I decided to just solider on until then. That was a decision I would live to regret. My appointment finally arrived the first week of August. I had dutifully had all my blood work done prior to the day I was seeing my doctor. I wanted the appointment to be productive, not one riddled with theories. I walked in to talk to my doctor and he reviewed the symptoms I had listed to the nurse that I was experiencing. He looked at my blood work and it looked perfect. There was nothing more that could be done with my thyroid. The levels were at just the right points. In that moment, I started to cry. I could no longer explain away my symptoms. I worried that I was destined to feel horrible forever.
My much older male doctor didn't flinch at my tears. He just started asking me about my life. He asked me if I was working outside the home. I told him I stay home with my little ladies. He asked me if I would be happier if I worked somewhere else. My reply was that I didn't want to leave my girls each day. At that moment he asked me something I never expected to be asked. He asked me if maybe I should be working. Is it possible that by staying home, I was making myself miserable? He told me he thought I was depressed. He suggested several ways I could try to improve my situation. He was concerned about Husband's schedule (he has been traveling from Tues to Thurs night most weeks). Finally he concluded that I needed to get more time to take care of myself. However I decided to do that was my decision.
He also recommended an anti-depressant. In that moment I was willing to try anything. He cautioned me to to expect too much too quickly. The meds would take some time to work. We scheduled another appointment for a month later and I went on my way. I took my first dose that day. I figured that I may as well get this show on the road. It was a Thursday. By Saturday I was noticing that I had more energy. I had a couple of side effects, but I felt better. By the following week, I was really noticing a huge difference. My coffee intake dropped dramatically. I was able to sleep better. I didn't have to convince myself to get up and take care of my girls each morning. I started thinking about what would be helpful to me.
I thought I would start a journal. After thinking about it some more, I decided I would write a blog about my experiences. I don't expect this to help other people. It truly is therapy to me. I also love books. Thus, this blog was born. I also started a project or two around the house.
I go back to my doctor tomorrow. I can't wait for him to see how much better I feel. I am enjoying myself for the first time since Panda Girl was born. I am able to see humor in everyday life again. Each setback is not the end of the world. The sky is no longer falling. My only regret is that I suffered for so long. Truly it took about a year of misery for me to give up and seek help. If I can reach only one person who is soldiering through in silence and convince her to get help, then I will feel as if my pain has not been in vain.
The book's early chapters outline Brooke's struggle with infertility. Evidently fertility treatments can make some women more susceptible to postpartum depression. She also explains both the physical and emotional pain of a miscarriage. It seems once she conceives her daughter Rowan the pregnancy is uneventful. She feels well and strong. She takes good care of herself. In short, she did everything right.
The month leading up to delivery she experiences a highly personal loss. The delivery also does not go well. She has major complications. As a celebrity she also has privacy issues in the hospital. Once she finally gets home, everything starts to fall apart. The rest of the book chronicles her realization that she needs help and what she does to cope with the disease. At the end she summarizes the decisions she made which were helpful and those which were detrimental to her recovery.
Overall I enjoyed her memoir. It was an easy read and was relatively well written. She was encouraging and honest. I truly appreciate her coming forward to help erase any stigma associated with this disease.
While reading, it was comforting to know someone else had been in a similar situation and had come out the other side healthy and strong. In some ways her depression was more obvious to those around her since its onset was immediately after delivery. Postpartum depression can come on any time in the first year after the baby's birth. Mine didn't hit until three to four months postpartum. Mine was also more gradual. One day was hard. Then the next was not bad. Then the next couple of days were tough. Pretty soon all the days were tough and I did not even see how unhappy I had become. After about four months I reached a breaking point and knew something was off. I couldn't really put my finger on the problem, but I knew something had to change.
So, I started exercising. Usually this is a good idea for women struggling with depression. Sadly, it didn't really help in my case. This is mostly because the exercise caused me to lose my milk supply. The reduction in my milk supply caused my breastfed baby to wake more frequently in the night. Poor Panda Girl was hungry. At this point she was eight months old and had never tasted formula. I tried to feed her some to supplement and she hated it. I started to eat more to make up for the calories I was burning working out. Instead of increasing my dwindling milk supply, the eating caused me to gain weight. In the meantime I am sure my hormones were probably all over the place. I also have thyroid disease and I am sure it played a role in my struggle. At this time Sweet Pea, my very stubborn child, was refusing to potty train. So there I was with two kids in diapers, up several times a night and I had no real break to take care of myself on a regular basis. I was exhausted. I was uninterested. I was mad as a hornet at my situation.
I was able to wean Panda Girl when she was eleven months. Thankfully she loves whole milk. The first night she had a bottle of whole milk she slept through the night and never looked back. That same week Sweet Pea finally consented to being potty trained. At that point we were headed in the right direction. I was sure I would start to feel better soon. I started exercising more, hoping that would hasten my recovery. Nothing seemed to work. I still longed to crawl into bed all day, every day.
Once I realized how tired I really was, I was certain my problem had its root in my thyroid issues. One of the biggest symptoms of Hashimoto's Disease is fatigue. My endocrinologist's appointment was just a couple of months away, I decided to just solider on until then. That was a decision I would live to regret. My appointment finally arrived the first week of August. I had dutifully had all my blood work done prior to the day I was seeing my doctor. I wanted the appointment to be productive, not one riddled with theories. I walked in to talk to my doctor and he reviewed the symptoms I had listed to the nurse that I was experiencing. He looked at my blood work and it looked perfect. There was nothing more that could be done with my thyroid. The levels were at just the right points. In that moment, I started to cry. I could no longer explain away my symptoms. I worried that I was destined to feel horrible forever.
My much older male doctor didn't flinch at my tears. He just started asking me about my life. He asked me if I was working outside the home. I told him I stay home with my little ladies. He asked me if I would be happier if I worked somewhere else. My reply was that I didn't want to leave my girls each day. At that moment he asked me something I never expected to be asked. He asked me if maybe I should be working. Is it possible that by staying home, I was making myself miserable? He told me he thought I was depressed. He suggested several ways I could try to improve my situation. He was concerned about Husband's schedule (he has been traveling from Tues to Thurs night most weeks). Finally he concluded that I needed to get more time to take care of myself. However I decided to do that was my decision.
He also recommended an anti-depressant. In that moment I was willing to try anything. He cautioned me to to expect too much too quickly. The meds would take some time to work. We scheduled another appointment for a month later and I went on my way. I took my first dose that day. I figured that I may as well get this show on the road. It was a Thursday. By Saturday I was noticing that I had more energy. I had a couple of side effects, but I felt better. By the following week, I was really noticing a huge difference. My coffee intake dropped dramatically. I was able to sleep better. I didn't have to convince myself to get up and take care of my girls each morning. I started thinking about what would be helpful to me.
I thought I would start a journal. After thinking about it some more, I decided I would write a blog about my experiences. I don't expect this to help other people. It truly is therapy to me. I also love books. Thus, this blog was born. I also started a project or two around the house.
I go back to my doctor tomorrow. I can't wait for him to see how much better I feel. I am enjoying myself for the first time since Panda Girl was born. I am able to see humor in everyday life again. Each setback is not the end of the world. The sky is no longer falling. My only regret is that I suffered for so long. Truly it took about a year of misery for me to give up and seek help. If I can reach only one person who is soldiering through in silence and convince her to get help, then I will feel as if my pain has not been in vain.
Pleasant Surprise
As I have mentioned earlier, Sweet Pea started preschool this year (hallelujah!). When we were walking into the chaos of the first day of school last week, I was very nervous for her. She had met her teachers the previous Friday and had liked them. I just didn't know how she would respond once we got there and I left her.
When we met the teachers we were given a homework assignment. They sent us home with a large green construction paper leaf. We were told to put her family on the leaf and it would be displayed on a large family tree in the classroom. The leaf is due on Tuesday. Friday afternoon we had time, so we tackled the assignment. I was very unsure if Sweet Pea would embrace this assignment or resent having to do school work at home. In preparation for the assignment I had printed out lots of pictures of her family (including the dogs, as they are very important to her). She had a great time choosing the photos she liked best of each of us (grandparents and great-grandmothers included). I cut out the faces of everyone and watched her glue them on the paper. Her enthusiasm was exciting. Once it was finished she was wanting to carry it around with her. I was fearful it would not survive the abuse if Panda Girl go a hold of it. So, I laminated the finished product. That leaf has made the little ladies happy all weekend. They love looking at the pictures and Sweet Pea likes to tell stories about each person.
So often life disappoints us. I have appreciated how Sweet Pea has embraced school. It turns out my worries about the homework and the more arduous schedule were just that, my worries. She was not concerned at all. So, I am enjoying this gift of the unexpected and pleasant surprise. I don't know how long her enthusiasm will last. For now, I refuse to worry about it.
When we met the teachers we were given a homework assignment. They sent us home with a large green construction paper leaf. We were told to put her family on the leaf and it would be displayed on a large family tree in the classroom. The leaf is due on Tuesday. Friday afternoon we had time, so we tackled the assignment. I was very unsure if Sweet Pea would embrace this assignment or resent having to do school work at home. In preparation for the assignment I had printed out lots of pictures of her family (including the dogs, as they are very important to her). She had a great time choosing the photos she liked best of each of us (grandparents and great-grandmothers included). I cut out the faces of everyone and watched her glue them on the paper. Her enthusiasm was exciting. Once it was finished she was wanting to carry it around with her. I was fearful it would not survive the abuse if Panda Girl go a hold of it. So, I laminated the finished product. That leaf has made the little ladies happy all weekend. They love looking at the pictures and Sweet Pea likes to tell stories about each person.
So often life disappoints us. I have appreciated how Sweet Pea has embraced school. It turns out my worries about the homework and the more arduous schedule were just that, my worries. She was not concerned at all. So, I am enjoying this gift of the unexpected and pleasant surprise. I don't know how long her enthusiasm will last. For now, I refuse to worry about it.
Friday, September 4, 2009
The Kindle 2
Most people in my life know I have a Kindle 2. The questions I get range from, "What is that?" to "Do you like it?". Today I thought I would let people know what it is along with the pros and cons of the device. Kindle 2 is the ebook reader by Amazon.com. You can only get it online through Amazon. It is pricey, $299. I personally wish it had been cheaper, but decided to buy it anyway.
Now to the technical stuff. It is thinner than a magazine and about the size and shape of a large paperback. The Kindle weighs about as much as a magazine. It is not back lit. Reading off the device is not like reading off a computer screen, it is much easier on the eyes. The controls are in logical places and are easy to use. It even has a screen saver to help extend the battery life. I purchased mine in May. I read a fair bit. I have only had to charge it four times (including the initial charge). It charges quickly and you can read it while it charges. If you keep the wireless on, it will eat up the battery. So, I only turn it on to download books. There are two ways to buy books. You can order books on your computer and just download them later. The other option is turning on the wireless feature and searching for books on the device itself. Both are easy and quick. You do not need to be in a Wifi hotspot. Amazon uses the cell phone lines to transmit books. The company calls it Whispernet. Thus, if you can get a cell phone signal, you can order and download a book. I've heard there is a Kindle app for the I-Phone. Since I don't have an I-Phone, I am not really qualified to discuss it here.
Now, on to the books. The books range in price. If the book is over 50 years old, it is considered to be in the public domain. Books in the public domain are free. Newer books typically range from $6 to $9.99. I like that I don't have to wait for a book to come out in paperback. In most cases new books that would cost over $20 in hardback are $9.99 on the Kindle. Therefore, the Kindle will eventually pay for itself. If you are a book buyer, anyway. There are very few books that are unavailable on Kindle (most notably, Harry Potter). The selection of library e-books is not worth mentioning if you are reading for pleasure, unless you like random text and how to books for pleasure reading. This is the biggest con there is of the Kindle. I'm hoping the library eventually catches up with the technology.
Overall, I am really glad I bought a Kindle. We are not people who are usually on the cutting edge of technology. Our "new" TV is a decade old. We don't spend money on fancy phones. This gadget is one I am glad I invested in early. I truly think this is the way people will read in the future. It is much more environmentally friendly than books too. Think of all the trees you will save if you don't purchase books with hundreds of pages in them. Anyway, I hope this has helped you understand the Kindle. I love it so much that I don't want to read "normal" books anymore.
Now to the technical stuff. It is thinner than a magazine and about the size and shape of a large paperback. The Kindle weighs about as much as a magazine. It is not back lit. Reading off the device is not like reading off a computer screen, it is much easier on the eyes. The controls are in logical places and are easy to use. It even has a screen saver to help extend the battery life. I purchased mine in May. I read a fair bit. I have only had to charge it four times (including the initial charge). It charges quickly and you can read it while it charges. If you keep the wireless on, it will eat up the battery. So, I only turn it on to download books. There are two ways to buy books. You can order books on your computer and just download them later. The other option is turning on the wireless feature and searching for books on the device itself. Both are easy and quick. You do not need to be in a Wifi hotspot. Amazon uses the cell phone lines to transmit books. The company calls it Whispernet. Thus, if you can get a cell phone signal, you can order and download a book. I've heard there is a Kindle app for the I-Phone. Since I don't have an I-Phone, I am not really qualified to discuss it here.
Now, on to the books. The books range in price. If the book is over 50 years old, it is considered to be in the public domain. Books in the public domain are free. Newer books typically range from $6 to $9.99. I like that I don't have to wait for a book to come out in paperback. In most cases new books that would cost over $20 in hardback are $9.99 on the Kindle. Therefore, the Kindle will eventually pay for itself. If you are a book buyer, anyway. There are very few books that are unavailable on Kindle (most notably, Harry Potter). The selection of library e-books is not worth mentioning if you are reading for pleasure, unless you like random text and how to books for pleasure reading. This is the biggest con there is of the Kindle. I'm hoping the library eventually catches up with the technology.
Overall, I am really glad I bought a Kindle. We are not people who are usually on the cutting edge of technology. Our "new" TV is a decade old. We don't spend money on fancy phones. This gadget is one I am glad I invested in early. I truly think this is the way people will read in the future. It is much more environmentally friendly than books too. Think of all the trees you will save if you don't purchase books with hundreds of pages in them. Anyway, I hope this has helped you understand the Kindle. I love it so much that I don't want to read "normal" books anymore.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Am I a Joiner?
My mother has always been what I call a "joiner". In her neighborhood she has been the head of three of the four neighborhood organizations. She was always involved in our schools and extracurricular activities when my sister and I were growing up. As a kid we assumed the involvement was to keep a short leash on us. To a certain extent, that is probably true. However, that was not the bigger reason for her involvement in these organizations. She was a stay-at-home mom. She was always a good student with an active mind (as long as math was not involved, he he). She needed to use her brain.
I have shared before that I have been struggling the last couple of years. In large part this is because my brain has been on hiatus. I have a degree in finance with a minor in international business. I worked in the complex world of gas marketing accounting. I was responsible for around $75 million worth of business each month. Then I left the working world to stay home with the little ladies. Suddenly my biggest financial responsibility was finding the cheapest organic milk. I am certain that staying home was the right decision for our family. Unfortunately, this may not have been best for my mental health. Particularly since Panda Girl was born, I have not taken good care of myself.
Fast-forward to tomorrow morning. I am going to a group called MOPS (Mothers of PreSchoolers). It is a group I have been aware of for a couple of years. At the time I first heard about it, we just had Sweet Pea and I had a nice group of friends I saw daily. They were my support group. As of this summer, each one of those women has moved away. While I understand that they are only a phone call away, it is not the same. So, tomorrow I am actively trying to find a new support group. The little ladies will go into the childcare for a few hours while I spend some time meeting some new people. I am fighting the urge to feel guilty about the little ladies being put in the nursery. This is something I need to do for me to be a better mommy. At the end of the day, that is what is most important. My girls want me to be happy. When I am happy, they are happy.
I guess I will start counting myself as a joiner. Clearly my mom was on to something, I should try to learn from her.
I have shared before that I have been struggling the last couple of years. In large part this is because my brain has been on hiatus. I have a degree in finance with a minor in international business. I worked in the complex world of gas marketing accounting. I was responsible for around $75 million worth of business each month. Then I left the working world to stay home with the little ladies. Suddenly my biggest financial responsibility was finding the cheapest organic milk. I am certain that staying home was the right decision for our family. Unfortunately, this may not have been best for my mental health. Particularly since Panda Girl was born, I have not taken good care of myself.
Fast-forward to tomorrow morning. I am going to a group called MOPS (Mothers of PreSchoolers). It is a group I have been aware of for a couple of years. At the time I first heard about it, we just had Sweet Pea and I had a nice group of friends I saw daily. They were my support group. As of this summer, each one of those women has moved away. While I understand that they are only a phone call away, it is not the same. So, tomorrow I am actively trying to find a new support group. The little ladies will go into the childcare for a few hours while I spend some time meeting some new people. I am fighting the urge to feel guilty about the little ladies being put in the nursery. This is something I need to do for me to be a better mommy. At the end of the day, that is what is most important. My girls want me to be happy. When I am happy, they are happy.
I guess I will start counting myself as a joiner. Clearly my mom was on to something, I should try to learn from her.
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