Today I have been thinking about this past year. I suppose it is natural to look back on New Year's Eve. I have so much to be thankful for in 2009. The little ladies are flourishing. They are getting to ages where they can play well with each other. Panda Girl is becoming more independent with each passing day. Sweet Pea is turning into a very sweet little girl. For these, and many other reasons, I smile when I think of this year.

However, this was not an easy year. A year ago I was living in misery. Panda Girl was still struggling to sleep at night and Sweet Pea was refusing to potty train. I had no time to myself. Panda Girl refused to take a bottle or sippy cup. I was literally unable to take a break. It seemed every time I tried to get out for even an hour, Panda Girl would start to melt down. That, in turn, caused me to melt down internally.

In January I decided to start exercising. I was exhausted and frustrated. I hoped getting more active would help with stress relief and help with my energy level. While that was a good idea in theory, in practice there were some issues. When I am nursing my metabolism slows down. Thus, I decided the exercise was necessary. However, that caused my milk supply to diminish. The diminishing milk supply caused Panda Girl to wake up more in the night since she was thirsty. That, in turn, made me tired. So, I was stuck in a catch-22. I don't even like that book.
Life got a little easier in April. I weaned Panda Girl (which caused her to start sleeping through the night) and potty trained Sweet Pea. I was expecting to start feeling much better. However, there was not much improvement. I got more and more frustrated. Finally, as I have written before, the light came on at the end of the tunnel in August.

This year I have learned so much about myself. I am much tougher than I realized. I am stubborn and am bad about asking for help. I repress my feelings when something is really bothering me. It turns out I am very good at hiding my emotions from those I love. So, I am planning to use this knowledge to help me this year. I will ask for help and take time for myself. I will make myself a priority. I have no idea what 2010 holds for me, but I am ready for it. I have faith I will come out the other side healthy and happy.

Book Review Time!

I went to go see "New Moon" with a friend a few weeks ago. One of the previews was for an upcoming film called "Dear John". It is a film based on the novel by Nicholas Sparks of the same name. I am not always a big fan of Sparks' work. I loved his memoir he wrote with his brother. It was a fantastic read. This film trailer caught my eye because of the name of one of the characters. It is a name I love. I correctly assumed it would be an easy and entertaining read.

Dear John is a novel about the nature of true love. John and Savannah have a chance encounter on the beach. John is on leave from the army and is visiting his father. Savannah is a college student in town to build homes for the poor. It is the classic good girl falling for the bad boy routine. The story is told from John's perspective and his character is well developed. Savannah's character is likable and sweet. Circumstances unfold in such a way that Savannah sends John a Dear John letter. John is eventually confronted with the questions of: "What is true love?" and "What would you do for true love?".

While the concept of the story is not new and the outcome is not a surprise, it is a good story. It was a perfect book to read over Christmas since is was fast and easy. Thus, if you are looking for the light and easy read, this just may be your next book.

Friend with Faith

Today we went to the zoo as a family. We met an old friend of mine and her family there. The O family is a Navy family. Mr. O is an engineering officer. Thankfully, for my friend, that means he rarely has to leave for extended duty. They have three children: Josh, age 7; Jackie, age 5; and Jake, age 2. Mr. and Mrs. O are fervent pro-life advocates. They are so pro-life that they do not use birth control. As she says it: They "are prepared to welcome as many children as the Lord deems appropriate" into their family. Wow, what a leap of faith.

Not only is their attitude about children a leap of faith, their daughter's health requires constant faith. At about 6 months old they started noticing bruises on their sweet baby girl. Jackie was not mobile yet and bruises seemed to appear very easily. Their first concern was leukemia. They were relieved to find they were spared a cancer diagnosis. However, the diagnosis was not a good one. She has acute hemophilia.

I knew very little about the disease before baby Jackie was found to have it. What I did know was that girls are not supposed to be symptomatic. The recessive defective gene is carried on the X chromosome. Boys are afflicted because there is only one X chromosome and, therefore, not an extra "good" copy of the gene. Girls have two X chromosomes so the other gene typically protects them from becoming symptomatic. They can be carriers, but are not usually afflicted. For some reason Jackie's extra copy of the gene that is supposed to protect her has turned itself off. She has been studied by the best doctors in the country and no one can explain her unique genetics.

What does all this mean for the O family? It means that every bump little Jackie receives could be life-threatening. She has had severe bleeds in her brain and hip. She is on medication, however it is not as effective as the doctors would expect. Thus, Mr. and Mrs. O have a couple of different ways to handle her condition. They could not allow her to do anything and make active little Jackie stir-crazy. That option would be very tempting. The other thing they could do is have faith. This is the option they have chosen. While they do take precautions with her (helmet, knee pads, etc.) they allow her to play like most kids. There are some activities that are off-limits. She will never be a gymnast. She will never be a rugby player. They are hoping she will be able to live a relatively normal life. She will always have significant medical bills. She will always need to be careful. I don't know what her diagnosis means for her ability to carry her own child someday. What I do know is that she is one in several million, literally.

I am thankful her parents are people of faith. Without faith this would be an impossible disorder to accept. While they would have never asked for this disease to afflict Jackie, they hope and pray God will use their situation for His glory. I am fortunate to call Mrs. O my oldest friend (we have known each other for 26 years - we are only 33). She has taught me so much about acceptance and faith. She is not angry with God or bitter about her more difficult situation. She is grateful to have Jackie in her life.

More than Gifts

The little ladies had a wonderful holiday. Panda Girl received no fewer than six pandas, two of which supposedly make accurate panda sounds. Sweet Pea's favorite items included a tent, a guitar and play horses. I am thankful our girls are lucky enough to receive Christmas presents. However, as a parent the gift receiving is not where I want to place the emphasis. The little ladies need to learn the value of giving. We read books teaching the legends of St. Nicholas and the candy cane. We gave to those less fortunate and talked about how some people do not have homes, food, clothes or toys.

We also want our children to understand the real reason for Christmas. While placing Christmas in December is neither biblical nor factual, it is an important day representing Christ's birth. Until I was a parent I did not fully understand a parent's love. Now that I have the little ladies I have a new appreciation for God's sacrifice. I can't imagine bringing a child into this world knowing he was destined to die so horribly and painfully. Thus, we spent time having a birthday party for Jesus.

I know the little ladies do not fully understand all I have tried to teach them this year. Panda Girl has a long way to go until she can fathom any of this. Sweet Pea is just excited about birthdays. However, I have faith that some day a light will go on inside of them and they will get it.

Christmas

Today is Christmas Eve. Today and tomorrow are days we always anticipate around here. We watch Christmas movies. We decorate cookies for Santa. Tonight we will have dinner with Husband's family and, this year, we will open gifts with them. We will put the little ladies to bed and break out the tools. This year they will receive a kitchen set from Santa, so we will spend our evening assembling it for them. I know they will love it. Tomorrow we will open some gifts at home and then head off to see my family.

These are days I have been dreaming about for months. These are days where the pictures in my head of the happy family are clear. My expectations are high. We are all freshly washed and pressed. There are no runny noses. There is no whining. There are no temper tantrums. Heck, the dogs are even washed and groomed. All family members behave. There are no passive-aggressive remarks or rolled eyes. We are the picture perfect family of the Norman Rockwell paintings.

Then I wake up. There are toys scattered everywhere. The camera has been lost at one of the many Christmas festivities we have attended. Panda Girl has a cold and is a fountain of snot. Sweet Pea is exhausted from the pre-Christmas activities and is throwing tantrums like when she was two. I am exhausted from all the preparations that have been made over the last month. Husband even has to discipline Sweet Pea (if you know him, you realize he does not really discipline her until she is pushed way beyond decent behavior). While this is not what anyone would picture for Christmas Eve, it is my reality.

The rest of the day will be spent decorating Christmas cookies. We will get cleaned up. Panda Girl will have to put her clothes back on (she is currently running around in only her diaper - my favorite outfit on her). Then, late tonight, after all the festivities are complete, Husband and I will look around our home and sigh. It will be a sigh of happiness and gratefulness. We will smile at each other and wonder at this family we have created. We will be thank God for these beautiful babies we are so fortunate to call our own. We will drift off to a peaceful sleep and dream again of our perfect Christmas.

All this just for a picture?

My mom and I had an idea about a month ago. We decided it had been too long since our family took a nice family picture and it was time to go forth and pose. The pictures were to include my grandmother, her husband, my parents, my aunt and uncle, my sister, my husband, the little ladies and me. The idea seemed so simple. Everyone shows up at the park at the appointed hour and we all smile. While that is how it would have happened in many families, that is not at all what happened with mine.

This event - and yes, I must categorize this as an event - took an immense amount of planning. To be fair, there were eleven different people to coordinate and attempt to please. We had to hash out several different options for dates that would work for everyone. Just as we thought we had a date chosen, I received an invitation in the mail for a holiday party it was important we attend. We finally settled on Friday. One person wanted studio photos. However, the photographer we chose does not have a studio. So we chose a beautiful area complete with a Japanese garden. However, all week the weather was awful. The sky was steel gray and mist hung in the air. As we walked the gardens in the days leading up to Friday, I shivered in the cold. We staked out a nearby hotel as an alternate location in case the bad weather continued. Then there were the attire discussions. Grandma insisted on wearing a formal dress with beaded lapels on the jacket. She also purchased matching velvet and taffeta dresses for the little ladies. I don't know about you, but I do not own anything that dressy at this stage in life. Mom, Sister and I each took several trips into our closets. I ended up making a last ditch trip to the mall to find a cute little black dress that would fit the bill. All in all I was unsure what to expect from Friday.

We had spent much of the week running around. Sweet Pea had her Christmas program. Panda Girl had a nasty cold that prevented either of us from sleeping well all week. On top of that we had my sweet Aunt and Uncle in town visiting. When Friday dawned I had planned a very quiet morning for the little ladies and I. We stayed home and in our pajamas. I was hoping the low key morning would enable us to have a meltdown free photo shoot and fancy dinner afterward.

Thankfully, our plans for outside photos were solidified when we all looked out our windows Friday morning. The sky was baby blue without a cloud in sight. All week the temperatures had hovered in the forties and fifties. Friday the sun came out and warmed the air to a comfortable sixty-four degrees. We met the photographer and started shooting. Panda Girl did not want to smile for much of the time, but I am hopeful there are some good shots of us all. I think the girls even had some fun.

Once we finished in the park it was on to Fancy Restaurant for dinner. I don't know about you, but we do not take our girls to expensive restaurants. It has always seemed like such a waste of money. However, that is what the family wanted to do and I reluctantly agreed. I secretly told myself that we would leave if the little ladies became unruly. As luck would have it, and it truly was luck, the girls behaved well. I did have to hold Panda Girl on my lap for much of the meal, but at least I got to eat a fantastic steak. Best of all, that particular restaurant has my favorite dessert. I enjoyed every last bit of that bread pudding. Sister teased that I practically licked the inside of the bowl to avoid missing any morsel.

While that day and the days leading up to it were an ordeal, I hope we will have a beautiful family picture to admire. I fiercely love my family. While I can tease them and complain about them, you had better not. I'm thinking we may even sit back and laugh about this one day. However, today is not that day. Tomorrow is not looking good either.

Book Review Time!

I am a fan of Jeanette Walls. I loved her memoir, The Glass Castle. It was amazing. I was thrilled when Half Broke Horses: A True-Life Novel was published a couple months ago. To say I had eagerly anticipated reading another book of Walls' is akin to saying Sweet Pea is a bit excited about Christmas. Walls writes a mostly autobiographical novel in her grandmother's voice. Lily Casey Smith was a tough as nails frontier woman. She was resourceful and smart. She lived in a dugout house for many years. She rode a horse for 28 days from New Mexico to Arizona alone at age 15. She broke wild horses and played poker. She was a bootlegger during prohibition. She was essentially a half broke horse herself.

The narrative uses the dialect Jeanette remembers hearing from her grandmother. The stories told are those Jeanette learned from her mother and grandmother. Walls also used newspaper stories and public records to substantiate much of what she writes. However, the details that give this book life and allow it to read like a novel were filled in by Walls' imagination.

The story is entertaining. It is full of flash floods, heartbreak, and humor. The writing style lends personality to Lily. I thought the story was well paced and interesting. The characters were well developed, interesting and likable. Overall I truly enjoyed the book and I highly recommend it.

Some Breathing Room

We have been very busy in our corner of the world. I have been under a tight deadline: have all pre-Christmas preparation (except gift wrapping) completed by December 13. I needed to be organized and have all teacher gifts chosen and ready for the school parties. I needed to have gifts for Savannah's friends ready. I needed to have all family presents purchased. The Christmas cards had to be sent. All long distance packages needed to be posted. It sounds a bit crazy, huh?

I have an Aunt and Uncle who live in the desert. We don't get to see them nearly as much as I would like. Aunt and Uncle never had kids, thus Sister and I are their only "human" children (they do have dog children, if you know what I mean). They have only met Panda Girl once, at 8 weeks old. They have not seen Sweet Pea in two years. My little ladies are their only "grandchildren".

Growing up, Aunt and Uncle were always a fixture in our lives. Most of the time they lived far away from us (we had them living here for about 4 years). We saw them at least once a year. Uncle was always fun. He took us camping. He played mini-golf with us. He went swimming with us. Aunt taught me how to apply make-up. She taught me what colors look nice with my skin tone and hair color. She taught me that you can have a second career late in life when she went back to school for a totally different degree the second time around. I have always felt lucky to be their niece.

So, why the December 13 deadline? Aunt and Uncle came into town today. I wanted my schedule clear to enjoy them during their almost two week visit. Tonight they came over for soup and cornbread and Monday Night Football. It was so fun to see them interacting with my girls. Uncle loves children, especially once they are toddlers. He throws them around. He tickles them. Panda Girl can be a bit leery of new people, but she walked up to him with her arms outstretched within ten minutes of his arrival. Sweet Pea remembered him from two years ago. He made such an impression on a barely two year old girl that she was thrilled to see him tonight. Aunt is not sure what to do with babies, but since the girls are a bit bigger now she had fun watching them. Panda Girl loves to entertain and she found an audience in Aunt.

I realize there will be too much extended family togetherness over the next two weeks. I am confident we will get on each other's nerves. However, I am equally confident that I would not change anything about them*. I love them as they are. I am grateful to have them in my life. I pray they become a large part of my little ladies' lives too.

*I reserve the right to take back this statement at any time in the next two weeks. I also reserve the right to not be reminded of aforementioned statement.

Healing, Four Months Later

I need to apologize. It turns out there has been a sweet friend leaving me comments on my blog. My email notification somehow got turned off and I did not realize the comments were left for me. One of the comments has had me thinking today. She asked me what caused my new found well-being. There are several elements that have come together to make me feel better.

To give some background, I battled postpartum depression for about a year. Mine did not start immediately after Panda Girl was born, it took about four months to start setting in. I was exhausted, disinterested and angry. I thought that by toughening up I could "fix" myself. I also thought my thyroid was acting up. I have Hashimoto's Disease (scary name, treatable disease) which causes my immune system to attack my thyroid. After having a baby my immune system goes a bit haywire. Thus, the disease is difficult to regulate until my hormones slow down. Many of the symptoms I was experiencing I was attributing to my thyroid because exhaustion has always been one of my primary thyroid symptoms. So, you can imagine my surprise when my endocrinologist told me that not only was my thyroid hormone within normal limits, it was picture perfect.

I simply started crying. My doctor is a much older man. I assumed he would dislike the tears like most men of his generation. Thankfully I was wrong. He started asking me about my life. He asked me if I should make some major changes for my own well-being. He also suggested a very low dose of an antidepressant. I agreed because I could not imagine feeling this way any more. I had been working out religiously for six months. I had been eating well. It had done nothing to help my energy levels. He advised me it may take about a month to notice a difference in the way I felt. Thankfully, he was wrong. I started feeling better within a week. The only side effect I experienced was dizziness for a day or so. Then it was better.

However, I do not think that just popping a pill each morning has been the only aspect of my recovery. I have continued exercising. I started blogging as a way to journal my thoughts. I taught myself how to sew and have given myself several fun projects. I have taken more time for myself, without guilt. I realize how much I need a break. I am a much better parent if I take good care of myself. My relationship with Sweet Pea has gone from contentious to peaceful. I have been able to give Husband some attention. While it is probably not as much as he would like, it is a significant improvement over last year. I also talked to Husband to truly explain how I was feeling during the difficult times. He had no idea how badly I felt. That is my fault. I did not tell him. I expected him to understand something I was trying hard to hide. I was ashamed and embarrassed. Once I communicated with him, he was shocked by the depth of my depression. Since then he has been nothing but supportive.

These days I feel healthy. I have energy. I am enjoying my children. I can laugh again. I don't cry at every perceived slight. I engage with people again. I have interests again, other than sleeping. In short, I am myself. Truly, I have not felt this good since college. I am grateful to my family and an insightful doctor. I am grateful I took the time I needed to heal.

Book Review Time!

I am still behind in my reviews! Today I am reviewing Spinning Forward by Terri Dulong. The debut novel follows Sydney Webster on a journey to rediscover herself. At 52, Sydney finds herself alone and penniless after her husband's sudden and unexpected death. His large gambling debts, previously unknown to Sydney, have left her homeless. She is lost. She is confused. She is angry. A dear friend invites her to come and stay at her B&B in Cedar Key, FL to help Sydney regain her footing in her life. To relieve her stress, Sydney turns to spinning wool and knitting. This hobby helps her turn her life around and learn who she will be without her husband.

Overall it was a good, not great, light read. I found the twists, turns, and secrets that came to light somewhat predictable. If you are not one to sit and think about why information is included in a story, you may not see all the "surprises" coming. There is also a semi-spiritual component to this story that I found odd. I did enjoy the characters. While I think Sydney could have been developed better, I enjoyed the quirky secondary personalities.

Overall, I am glad I took the time to read this story. It was a well-paced and enjoyable read. The characters and their dialogue had me laughing on several occasions. If she writes another novel, I will probably read it too.

The Magic of Christmas

When I was growing up, Christmas was my favorite time of year. I have always loved everything about this holiday: the food, the crazy family, the decorations, the holiday movies. I loved coming home and seeing the tree all lit up, the smell of cookies baking while holiday music played in the background. I loved decorating the fifty gazillion Christmas cookies Mom baked with White Christmas flickering on the television. Most days you could have taken a picture of our home and family and it would have looked like a Norman Rockwell painting.

Then I became the Mom. Suddenly choosing the traditions I wished to continue became much more important. Creating a new tradition or two was also a priority. Is a visit to Santa at the mall more important than decorating cookies? Is it imperative that the picture on the Christmas card be festive, or could it just be a cute picture from earlier in the year? Do I really want to make the cute calendar of the kids for all the family members each year? Do I want the Christmas letter to be a funny representation of our year or more of a play-by-play? With so many choices, it is easy to get overwhelmed.

As a kid I had no idea all that the picture perfect Christmas entailed. I had no idea that from Thanksgiving forward Christmas was an extra two hours of work each day. I didn't know there would be years I would not decorate at all (when Sweet Pea was almost 2 and I was pregnant with Panda Girl ) due to being out of town for the actual holiday. I had no idea we would be participating in a new and wonderful tradition involving an elf and a shelf (sadly, our elf has gone missing this morning - he is probably buried under the mound of junk on the floor somewhere, ahem). I had no idea that I would rather stand outside naked than take the girls Christmas shopping alone. I certainly didn't understand the extent of parents' exhaustion during these weeks leading up to the big day.

While this time of year can drive a mom nuts, I also have a better understanding of the magic of Christmas. I loved Panda Girl's first Christmas last year. Surprisingly she was very animated and interested while we opened gifts. She was charming and cute. I am loving Sweet Pea's adorable anticipation this year. Since this is her fourth Christmas, she knows the drill. She is beside herself with excitement. She is loving watching her cute holiday shows on TV. She has been loving Christmas carols, she was singing them in the shower the other day. It was so sweet. Thus, while I never truly appreciated the work that this holiday can bring, I also never understood the deep joy that comes from Christmas either. The little ladies have brought that to me in a way no one else ever could. Thus, this is still my favorite time of year. I just need to use lots of caffeine to stay awake and enjoy it.

Unexpected Lesson

Husband and I took Sweet Pea to the Nutcracker last weekend. We are hoping to infuse a love of the arts in our little ladies. We visit museums regularly, but this was to be her first live performance. I was unsure how well she would behave. Sitting still is not her strong point. However, I was hopeful we would have fun.

We arrived at the theater a bit late, but still before the show started. Our seats were close to the stage as we were hoping a good seat would hold Sweet Pea's interest in the ballet. Once we were settled, I realized that we were surrounded by little girls all dressed in their holiday finery. They were all adorable. It was hard not to hug and kiss them all. As I was admiring the cute kiddos, my gaze happened across one particular child. She was tall, so I expect she was around 7 years old. I noticed her father carrying her everywhere. At first I thought that was a bit strange, until I looked closer. She was wearing a beautiful black and white long dress. She had on a matching white hat with a black bow. Then it struck me. She was wearing a hat inside. Her sweet father had a shaved head. She has cancer. I have no idea if she was too tired to walk or if her daddy just could not put her down. I believe it was the latter.

Can you imagine what that sweet family is facing? I think if one of my little ladies was struck with a life threatening illness, I would carry her everywhere too. I would want to hold her as much as possible. I would probably sleep with her. While I attended the ballet expecting Sweet Pea to have a cultural lesson, I was not expecting to be the one educated. Please remember to hold your children this Christmas. Hug them in a way that makes them push you away because it is too much hugging. Help them learn about the importance of giving to those who are sick and are in need. We are going to be doing our part, I hope you will too.

Book Review Time!

I realize I have been remiss in reviewing my books lately. So, I start today with The Late Bloomer's Revolution by Amy Cohen. This memoir was a joy to read. There is sadness as well as lightheartedness throughout the book. It follows Amy's life from her late 20s well into her 30s. She brings us along on bad first dates. She lets us experience her heartbreak. We follow her career.

Amy is essentially trying to learn who she is and who she will become as her life ebbs and flows. Does she want to be married? Does she want a family? It is clear in the beginning of the story that she and her mother are close. However, her mother has been battling cancer of one form or another since Amy was young. As the story begins her mother is dying. Amy wonders who she will be without her mother. Her mother tries to impart as much wisdom as possible before she passes. Some of the advice causes Amy to pause as she is not sure she agrees with the sentiments imparted.

Some of the circumstances and opportunities that come her way are hilarious. I found myself laughing out loud on more than one occassion. There are moments in which you feel supreme pity for her. In those moments you feel the pain she is in and want to take it away for her. There are also a few times when you want to smack her and tell her to get over it. As someone who took a more traditional route in life, I could not really relate to the angst of her single girl world. However, the theme of loneliness is one all of us understand. As is the idea that we are all unfinished. Amy spends time exploring where she belongs and with whom. While I have found the people I intend to spend my life with, I too feel unsettled sometimes about my place outside of the four walls of my home.

Amy ultimately finds answers to her questions. While they may not be the answers she expected she finds satisfaction in them. I hope we can all find our unique place in this world. I am certain I am uniquely qualified for something. Since I have no idea what that something is, I am going to continue to wait and be still and allow the answers to come.

Ahh, Thanksgiving. Where to begin?

Husband and I decided to pack up the little ladies and venture forth to Austin for Thanksgiving. Husband's Uncle D lives in a huge house on a horse ranch, thus he has plenty of room for Husband's large family. While the festivities were held at Uncle D's place, Aunt J (Uncle D's little sister) was the hostess. She lives in Colorado and was in Austin with her three teenage kids. We love Aunt J and Uncle S. Their three kids are remarkable. They love our little ladies. They are kind and hard working. Husband's parents and siblings, A and B, were in attendance as well. Beyond these family members, there were a bunch of strangers. We should have had name tags with information explaining how they were connected to this family. Everyone except Husband's parents and siblings stayed in the house. Uncle D's girlfriend was there too. As were her son, grandson and ex-daughter-in-law.

I understand this is quite a bit to follow, but it is a necessary introduction. OK, the day of Thanksgiving we loaded up the minivan and headed to Austin. We got there in plenty of time to eat and chat with everyone. When Panda Girl napped, Sweet Pea was allowed to skip the nap and go ride Cousin S's thoroughbred horse. She loved it. Later that evening Sweet Pea teased Uncle D over which team would win the UT/A&M game. They had lots of fun with their rivalry. During this whole time Uncle D's girlfriend, E was enjoying the vino. We would soon learn exactly how much.

In the meantime I am becoming a full-time referee. Uncle D has multiple dogs who are unaccustomed to kids. They are not typically even nice to other dogs, much less people. So I deemed them totally untrustworthy, especially around Panda Girl. Panda Girl is in that phase were being gentle is a nice concept, but rarely a reality. Uncle D and E had insisted they needed to come inside since it was getting cold outside. So, I got to keep the little ladies from being the newest news headline reading, "Thanksgiving Tragedy: Children Maimed while Visiting Uncle's Ranch".

Finally it was both game time and bedtime for the girls. They were quickly put in bed while the rest of us settled in to watch the game. What a game it was! While the Ags did run out of time, we gave them a run for their money. It was fun to watch. Sadly during this time E's drinking became evident when she planted a kiss on Husband's mom. It was not a gentle peck on the cheek, a full-fledged kiss on the lips. Clearly this was a first for MIL, and she was not thrilled about the experience.

After the game, Husband and I turned in for bed. I optimistically set an alarm for 5:30 to enjoy some Black Friday bargains. Little did I know how little shopping I would accomplish the following day. As we were settling in, some loud music started playing in the bedroom with which ours shared a wall. I was a little suspicious about what would be happening between E's son L and his ex-wife-turned-current-girlfriend A. Soon the mystery was solved. Yep, you are right. They had decided to reconcile. Then they reconciled some more. I'm not sure why they were playing music, as they were much louder than the aforementioned music. There was so much reconciling that Husband wondered later if they were making an adult film. It did last about two hours, I assume that is a typical adult film length (let me be clear, I have no firsthand knowledge of that in any way). We were grateful the little ladies were in a different room, several rooms away from the activities. Panda Girl also woke up in the night. Thus, when the alarm sounded bright and early, it was promptly turned off.

The next day was much less eventful. The girls rode horses. We visited Husband's grandmother in her nursing home. Then we headed home. As I said uneventful. Let's just say I am very thankful we won't be spending next Thanksgiving with E and her family. I don't think I could handle that again any time soon!

Finally, another book review!

I have finished two books since I past wrote a review. Life has been so busy that it has definitely been infringing on the literature I love. So, today I am going to review A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. Overall, I enjoyed this classic novel. This coming-of-age novel was originally written as a memoir. However, the publisher decided it would sell better if it was fictionalized into a novel. I have a feeling that was a good decision. The story is set in Brooklyn, New York in the early 20th century. Francie is a second generation American with Irish and Austrian roots. Francie's father, Johnny, was Irish and "had a hankering after immortality which made him a useless dreamer." Francie's mother, Katie, was Austrian and "had a fierce desire for survival which made her a fighter." Much of the story results from Katie cleaning up Johnny's messes, including his alcoholism. Katie was constantly working and Johnny was constantly drinking.

Francie and her younger brother Neeley are often left to fend for themselves growing up. Francie's best friends were books. She endeavored to read a book a day. Francie's main desire was for school and learning. As Francie grows up she becomes more disillusioned with her life. She realizes the poverty that has marked her childhood. She becomes aware of her father's drinking problem. She witnesses first hand her mother's favoritism toward her brother. Her character unfolds beautifully as she is faced with very adult situations while still a child.

This story made me feel grateful. I have never gone hungry. I have never had to watch my children starve. I have always had access to good education. I was not forced to grow up way too fast. For all of these things, and of course much more, I am feeling thankful. Especially as we approach Thanksgiving on Thursday. I pray you can take some time to think about what makes you grateful too.

Phases

Sweet Pea is starting, bit by bit, to leave the theatrical threes behind her. I can see the fabulous fours coming. Some days are a sneak peak into the child she will be in a few months. Those are wonderful days. She is sweet and polite. She is funny, although not always intentionally. She told me the other day that January 16th (her birthday) is far, far away. So she needed to get on an airplane to get there. So funny. Anyway, I digress. I have been trying to figure out what makes one day fabulous and then another back to theatrical. Often it has more to do with me than with her mood. Sure, if she is tired or hungry she is more difficult. However, the days when I can engage her in helping or playing are typically golden days. When I have the time and energy to ask her to help me unload the dishwasher and ask her to fetch and carry for me she is excited and happy to help. The days when I find myself too tired to put one foot in front of the other, I often forget to engage that aspect of her personality. Then I have meltdowns and attention-seeking behavior on my hands. I get frustrated and then she gets hurt/mad and we are both in trouble.

Panda Girl, on the other hand, is leaving behind the compliant happy baby I have so loved. She is turning into a two year old. Some mornings are spent going from tantrum to tantrum. This child does has not gotten mad often, up to this point. However, when she is angry it is really bad. She screams until she is red in the face. She practically forgets to breathe (I sit there sometimes thinking, breathe baby - you can do it). She gets herself all worked up. It seems as Panda Girl is getting closer to two, this temper comes out more frequently. I have no idea what she will be like in six months or so, but I have fear. This could be a very long couple of years with her. Hopefully Sweet Pea has prepared me well for whatever Panda Girl has to bring. All I can say is, bring it on girlfriend. I (think) am ready for it!

Regardless of the phase, I love my little ladies. It is a joy to watch them learn and grow. Their personalities are so different from each other. While that does add extra challenges to raising them, it also makes for very rich experiences with them.

A Scene from the Gym

Husband is out of town again this week. That means I get to decide the schedule the little ladies and I will adopt whilst he is away. I really wanted to go back to a yoga class I enjoyed a few weeks ago. However, it starts at 7, lasts an hour and I can't imagine keeping the little ladies out past 7:30 on a school night. So, I opted for the Pilates Mat class at 5:45. I realized the dent this could make in our dinner schedule, but we went anyway. I packed dinners for the girls to eat at childcare if they were hungry. Then I scampered off to my class.

The class was wonderfully torturous. It was complete with threats from the trainer to require horrible numbers of push-ups if you cheated on your bicycle crunches. By the end of class each participant was grunting, groaning and had learned new counting methods (1, 2, 10, 26, 39, 75, ...). Once it was done I proceeded, very gingerly, to get my girls.

It turns out they had only touched their Motts for Tots and the meal was as it had been when I dropped it off. The main reason the food was intact was the amount of fun that was had by both little ladies in the childcare room. The room was a shambles. Tiny chairs were overturned. Toys were strewn from one end of the room to the other. Panda Girl had even relinquished her cherished panda and had no idea where she had left it. I told them to head for the elevators.

Evidently my words were translated in little lady speak as "run as fast as possible and in opposite directions and let's see if Mama can catch us". Panda Girl ran one way. Sweet Pea ran the other. I can't run. My leg muscles were the exact consistency of jello. Luckily another little girl ran toward Sweet Pea. Sweet Pea ran towards me to get away from the "scary" five year old. Panda Girl ran past the elevators into the tennis pro shop. Where the staff behind the desk proceeded to encourage her by talking to her and calling her. She knew they were telling her that she is cute. So, she played to the crowd. Sweet Pea ran to the elevators since pushing the elevator buttons is her hobby.

After another few minutes of chaos, I wrangled Panda Girl and dragged her to the elevators. Once inside our very own elevator there was the typical fight over pressing the buttons. Sweet Pea beat Panda Girl to it, so to retaliate Panda Girl hit the alarm button. Soon a voice, that can only be described as what I would imagine the voice of God to sound like, came over a speaker asking us the nature of our emergency. I quickly explained the situation. Thankfully the big voice laughed.

We did eventually get home. While it was an ordeal, all I could do was laugh. Then I laughed some more. Then I cried because my tummy muscles were so sore.

A Tale of Two Illnesses

There was a time not too long ago when all I wanted was to stay in bed. All day. I spent my whole day planning on when I could crawl back into bed. Clearly this was a problem. I just hadn't realized how miserable I was feeling. It had come on slowly and before I knew it I was in the grip of Depression. Depression made me happy when I caught some bug the kids brought home from school. I finally had a legitimate excuse to stay in bed all day.

Panda Girl was running a fever on Tuesday and Wednesday. I have no idea what bug she had picked up. Her only symptoms were fatigue and fever. Thus, as illnesses go, this one was not so bad. Sweet Pea loves attention and since I was holding Panda Girl constantly, Sweet Pea was beside herself. She may as well have been jumping up and down screaming "LOOK AT ME!" all day. Then she started telling me that she, like Panda Girl, was sick. This is a classic Sweet Pea attention tactic. I firmly told her she was fine. She persisted. I put her in time out. Twice. She came over one more time to repeat her sickness mantra. As I was about to send her back to time out, it happened. Everything she had eaten all day (which was thankfully little) came back out. Fantastic, I had two sick kids and an out of town husband. Clearly this is every mother's dream. After another episode I started her on the Zofran the pediatrician had prescribed in February when she had the same kind of bug. It worked like magic. She was not sick again and the next day she mostly felt as good as new. She even asked to go to school (she loves school, but I told her she had to stay home that day).

Husband had been sweet and come home from his trip early. So I felt as if we had a bit of a safety net. Friday I had plans to shop with Mom and Sister. My Dad was going to watch the girls. It was a perfect plan. I was really excited. So, what happened? I got violently ill Thursday night. I stayed ill all day Friday. I missed the shopping trip. Husband had to stay home from work to care for the little ladies. At the end of her afternoon nap, Panda Girl woke up sick. We quickly gave her some of the Zofran and she was feeling fine within an hour or so. I, on the other hand, had no spare nausea meds laying around, so I suffered through.

I was so upset I had to stay home and stay in bed. Then I realized something. I must be feeling much better emotionally. I wanted out of bed. I hated being in bed. While I would have rather had something less disgusting to help me have my revelation, it was nice to experience it. Today I am more appreciative of my physical and emotional health. Thankfully by Sunday I was as good as new and I was able to go on my fun shopping trip, even if I went alone. It was great to be up and out of bed.

The Love of My Sweet Dog

We have two cocker spaniels named Ally and Sophie. Ally was my first "baby". She will be ten next month. I can't believe I have had her for almost ten years. When I graduated from Texas A&M in December of 1999, I did not know what to expect from the Real World. I had a job lined up at a major oil company in Houston doing accounting work.

I think my expectation was along the lines of college yet with people of all ages. I expected people to be motivated. I expected people to be helpful. I expected to make friends easily, as I had at A&M. In reality I entered a very difficult environment. There had just been a merger of two big companies. The workers from the taken-over company were unhappy and nervous. Their office location changed dramatically. The required attire changed dramatically. They suddenly had to pay for parking. There were new rules and a new culture to learn. In short, they were in the same situation as me. However, they had very different expectations and life experiences. Instead of being welcomed into a cohesive work group I was thrust into chaos. I didn't even get paid for a month. My original assignment changed after a week. Then I only had a week to learn the new job before my predecessor left the company. Thus, anxious excitement turned to plain anxiety.

I needed a release. I needed a friend in town. My college friends had all gone back to live at home, in the suburbs. I was the only one in town doing the single adult thing. Husband, who was Boyfriend at the time, was still in college. He was not going to graduate for over a year. I was lonely.

So, I got a puppy. I consulted no one. I made a decision. I wanted a friend. Ally became my friend. She and I would go on excursions together. She was thrilled to see me. While at work I would turn on the TV for her so she would not get lonely. She became an avid animal planet watcher (she still loves TV). This sweet dog has seen me through all of my adult life changes. She knows when I am upset and tries to cheer me up. She knows when I can't be cheered up and gets out of the way. She is good to the little ladies. She is lazy and laid back. In short, she is the perfect dog for me. I think I will give her some apple tonight for all her hard work. She'll love it.

Open Door, Messy Floor

Tomorrow I plan to stay home while the girls are at school and get some things done. My house looks like it has been hit by a tornado. I have a couple of gifts I need to get made by Wednesday. I have some overalls I need to get decorated for the little ladies. I'm supposed to take dessert to an event tonight. Anyway, I know my to do list is not interesting for anyone, so thanks for humoring me. Having this much to do makes me feel a bit out of control. Writing it down gives me a little peace.

Let's face it, we do not really have control over what happens in our domains. We can choose to dust, vacuum, do the dishes, etc. We don't get to choose when a baby has allergies and is teething. We don't get to choose when a hurricane hits the gulf and suddenly changes all of Husband's plans for the week. None of these things are important in the grand scheme of life. I will not remember this week several years from now. I will, however, remember the feeling of this season of life. So, instead of feeling overwhelmed, I am choosing to take a deep breath and smile inwardly at the forces that have caused this chaos. The gifts I am making are for new babies. Is there anything sweeter than a new baby? I doubt it. The hurricane forming in the gulf will probably keep Husband home for at least part of this week, and I like Husband. He is really nice to have around.

As I slowly learn to put down my self-imposed pursuit of perfection, I am also learning to appreciate how the best things in life create big messes. Thus, the messes can't be all bad. They are the result of us putting time with our family ahead of the clutter on the floor. While some order is necessary, we are not the military. Thus I am learning to enjoy the flexibility and the ability to say we have an open door, messy floor policy here. So, please stop by and add to the mess. I can honestly say I welcome it.

My Day

Today is my birthday. When I was growing up, today was a day to be pampered and spoiled. My mom was great at the spoiling. She even spoiled me this morning. She and Dad watched the kids last night so Husband and I could go to a fantastic event at the zoo. Then she got up Panda Girl up for us this morning. She made us breakfast.

Why am I using the plural pronoun? Today is also Husband's birthday. I never wanted to share my birthday. With anyone. While it might not sound like a big deal to share this coveted day, it has always bugged me a bit. I can't dictate the day. We are two years apart, sadly I am older, so some years I don't really get much of a day. Last year Husband turned 30 and my 32nd birthday got lost in the shuffle. I didn't mind. He deserved the fantastic surprise party planned for him. It was a great time. However, I did not get my day.

So this year I am going to be a little bratty. I plan to assert my desires more than I have in the past. Also, I plan to eat several days worth of calories in one day.

Tag, You're It

Have I really not blogged since Monday? How is that possible? I knew this had been a crazy week, but sheesh. I will try hard to blog tomorrow.

Anyway, I was tagged by my sweet friend Rachel to blog about my current top five obsessions. Here they are, in no particular order. When I'm done I plan to tag five of you to continue the chain.

1. Yoga. I got totally burned out on the Jillian Michaels DVDs. I always felt so exhausted after I was done. That was not conducive to taking care of little ladies. Then I found yoga. It works my muscles. I always find myself sweating five to ten minutes into a practice. I am usually a bit sore the next day. However, it is not the oh-my-how-am-I-to-walk kind of sore. I find it relaxing.

2. Sleep. I am always into sleep. I hate getting out of bed in the morning. It no longer has anything to do with how I feel (Amen), it is just my normal ugh, why is it already morning funk. That leads to my next obsession.

3. Coffee. I love coffee. I have had to switch to half caff because I refuse to drink less in the morning and all the caffeine was giving me the shakes. Major shakes.

4. Giraffe Feeding. What? Husband, the little ladies and I get to feed the giraffes at the Houston Zoo the week of Thanksgiving. I am beside myself with excitement.

5. Pumpkin. Anything pumpkin flavored. I love pumpkin. It makes me sad it is only available at this time of year. So, I fill up as much as I can (including pumpkin pie ice cream today).

Hmmm... Who to tag?

1. Amy U. Mom to Mole and BQ
2. Valerie H. Mom to sweet twin toddlers
3. Michelle H. The fabulous career woman turned SAHM turned career woman turned SAHM...
4. Allison J. Mom to sweet E and expecting baby C
5. Rebecca C. Mom to two busy girls, L and A.

Book Review Time!

I loved The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. Thus, when Her Fearful Symmetry came out, I had high expectations. She sets this novel in London, mostly Highgate Cemetery. This particular cemetery has the remains of many famous people, including Karl Marx. Elspeth Noblin dies of cancer at age 44 to start out the story. While you may expect that to be the end of Elspeth, it most certainly is not the demise of her soul. She leaves her estate to her nieces, twins Julia and Valentina. Thus begins a creative and original tale.

This story is certainly fantasy. If suspending disbelief is a concept you dislike, this is not the book for you. I found it easy to lose myself in this intriguing story. I thoroughly enjoyed it. While it is certainly not believable, it made me think. It was well written and was full of wonderfully flawed, well-developed characters.

As the climax loomed, I could not put the book down. I had to know for sure what was going to happen next. I had an idea, as there is excellent foreshadowing and character development. However, I wasn't sure if there was going to be another twist or not. I won't tell you of the story's twists and turns. To find out those you will have to read it for yourself. I hope you will.

I probably liked The Time Traveler's Wife better than Her Fearful Symmetry. However, this is still a wonderful read that is worth the time and energy.

Moments

Yesterday was Sweet Pea's Halloween parade and party at preschool. She dressed as a horse and rider. She had a great time. She was thrilled that I was able to come to her party. I had fun enjoying time with her and not worrying about Panda Girl, who was at mother's day out. At one point during the party she turned to me and said, "I love you Mommy". Then she hugged me. It was one of those moments. I still feel my little heart overflowing this morning just thinking about it.

Before we had kids these were the moments I looked forward to experiencing. The times when your heart is so full you are sure it is going to burst. I am thankful for each one I have had with these little ladies. Before I was a mom I had the delusion that these moments would be frequent. I didn't realize they would be so much work to achieve. However, the work makes the moments more special. I know I would take them for granted if I had not invested hours of time and energy in my little ladies.

As I struggled to drift off to sleep last night, I replayed this time with Sweet Pea as Panda Girl partied in her crib for over three hours. Hopefully I will have a good moment with her today because this mommy was not amused by the late night partying. I suppose it is just God's way of keeping us honest.

A Shot in the Arm

Panda Girl had her 18 month old well-check today. She now weighs in at 23+ pounds and is 32 inches tall. She was declared in excellent health. I had brought along Sweet Pea to have her get her seasonal flu vaccine alongside her sister. I had been told the office did not have any H1N1 vaccine available. I had thought, oh well. I'll call again in a couple of weeks and see if some has arrived. Well, as we sat in that disease infested waiting room, there was a UPS delivery. I was too busy following Panda Girl around with hand sanitizer to think about what the office could be receiving.

After visiting with the doctor he asked if I wanted the little ladies to get the H1N1 vaccine. That UPS shipment had contained the vaccine. I told him to sign us up and off he went to get the nurse with the needles. They both got the injections and then lollipops (Panda Girl's first).

Sweet Pea was asking why we had to give them boo-boos to keep them healthy. The concept was totally lost on her. Husband and I started discussing that it is hard for a three year old to comprehend how pain can bring health. As I thought about it more I realized how often adults miss the same message.

We lament out difficult situations. We complain that life is hard. Why is it so hard to believe that this pain and difficulty are used to help us reach our purpose in life? Do we not understand that a life without hardship was never promised to us? These individual experiences make us unique. Thus, we each have something different and important to contribute to our world. While my contribution may be calming little ladies after painful vaccines right now, this phase will not last forever. It is but a season. What is my ultimate purpose? I have no idea. What I do know is that each day I am a little closer to fulfilling the role that is uniquely mine.

The Big D

This morning was chaos. Panda Girl woke up early, so I had plenty of time to get organized. However, it was one of those mornings when the phone rings as you are herding two children and two dogs down the stairs. One of those mornings when you hear yourself growling, "How many times do I have to tell you to get in the car and sit in your seat?". It was one of those mornings when you somehow miss every green light. While I am never a truly calm person, I am a bundle of nerves today.

I have a younger sister. Have I ever mentioned her? Anyway, Sister has been struggling lately. She married the wrong person just over three years ago. The marriage officially started to unravel 18 months ago. By last New Year's Sister had kicked Party Man out of the house. It continued on as one would expect. They would reconcile. Party Man would be caught lying, again. He would be asked to vacate the premesis yet again. And so on and so forth.

Today is The Big D Day. It is Sister's divorce mediation. Party Man has made this process painful and difficult (I know, shocking). They are in the process of arguing over things like china, crystal, and cars as I write. I jump each time the phone rings, hoping to hear of a fair outcome. Although I wonder if there is such a thing in these situations.

My parents and I have been struggling with how to help her through this situation. None of us have been divorced. I am not accustomed to my little sister going through a situation I have never experienced. All I know to do is pray. I am praying this will just be a faint memory soon. I pray she will start to feel whole again once this is all over. In short I am praying for healing.

Distance

This weekend we visited an amazing little farm, Dewberry Farm. It had plenty for the girls to enjoy. Sweet Pea could barely contain her excitement. She was running from the hay mountain, to the giant slide, then over to the fort. It was difficult to keep her close. She kept running off to the next activity. Panda Girl was not any better. She is just slower at this age, thus easy to keep in your sights.

Let's face it, physically losing your child is The Nightmare. I also fear losing them emotionally. Right now it is easy to stay connected. Panda Girl barely leaves my side. She is my little shadow. Sweet Pea's physical ties to me are already becoming looser. She does not miss me while at preschool. She happily runs into class without so much as a backward glance. However, it is easy to see how needed I am to her. When she is upset, she wants a hug. From me. I know the day will come when she will no longer want a hug from me. She will say that I have to tell her she is wonderful, just because I am her mom. She won't understand that she is a truly amazing person.

While chasing her around the farm is physically exhausting, creating the right emotional balance as she grows will be daunting. When the time comes that she is starting to place some emotional distance between us, I pray that we will find a healthy balance. She is supposed to grow up and become more independent. Independence is a great thing. However, I also know that we will always need the wise counsel of our parents. I pray she will turn to me when necessary. I would hate to lose her.

Cleopatra Selene

I took Latin in high school. I thought it could help me have an illustrious legal career later in life. I was sure knowing basic Latin would help me with the legal terms I was certain to encounter. Life doesn't always turn out as you plan. So instead of a legal career, I have a "Mommy where are my shoes?" career.

During that class we learned a bit about ancient Rome. It makes sense to teach in the context of a Latin class. I don't remember learning about Cleopatra. While she was not Roman, she had an impact on ancient Rome. I knew she hooked up with both Julius Caesar and Marc Antony. What I did not know is that her union with Marc Antony created three children. The first two were twins. The son was named Alexander Helios (sun) and the daughter was named Cleopatra Selene (moon). The third was a boy named Ptolemy. When Octavian (later known as Caesar Augustus) captured Egypt, Cleopatra and Antony both, famously, committed suicide. I knew about their demise. I had not understood that they left behind three young kids. I can't imagine placing that burden on my children. Think of the therapy bills!

The book I just finished was: Cleopatra's Daughter: A Novel by Michelle Moran. The novel tells the story of Selene and her brother's through Selene's voice. This made for a fascinating novel. I learned about ancient Egypt. I had known Alexandria had been a cultural and intellectual center of the ancient world. It wasn't until this novel that I understood the disparity between Alexandria and Rome.

The book was paced well. It was interesting to read. The characters were well developed and interesting. The history came alive. It is heartbreaking and full of hope. There is definitely some fiction in the book to help the story. However, since the players lived over two thousand years ago, there is much of their lives that has been lost anyway. The author does separate the truth from the fiction in the prologue. She also tells how each of the main character's lives play out. I was grateful she took the extra time to complete each character's story. It helped create closure.

While I probably should have taken Spanish, I do live in Texas, I am glad for the history I did learn in high school Latin. It helps give me a great context for books like this. While that was not the intended usage, it is enough for me.

Anxiety

Panda Girl has been experiencing separation anxiety. Her experience has been very different than Sweet Pea's. Sweet Pea would struggle from the time I left her until I picked her back up. Panda Girl has a harder time with the anticipation of being left. From what I have been told, she is perfectly happy once I am actually gone. However, during the times when she is sure we are going to leave her, she is a handful. She cries and clings and fusses. Often she misses out on fun things during these moments. She could be playing with her grandparents. She could be "reading" a book. She could be enjoying a happy mommy instead of a stressed out one.

I can't even count the number of times the anticipation of something bad happening was worse than the actual event. An example: My labor with Panda Girl. Labor with Sweet Pea was much more complicated than any of us had anticipated. She was "sunny-side up". Thus there was back labor and an effort to make her roll over. She did eventually roll. However, then she was in distress. Thankfully I was able to deliver her quickly, making the impending c-section unnecessary. Thus, when faced with Panda Girl's birth, I was terrified. Clearly Sweet Pea had been worth the trauma, but that did not mean her birth was something I wanted to relive. Panda Girl's entrance into the world was remarkably uneventful. Other than being large (with an inordinately huge head), there were no surprises. It was straightforward and easy (once the epidural took effect). In no way had it been worth all the worrying that had preceded it.

So often I fear the unknown. Or, I have enough knowledge to make me think I can anticipate an outcome. How often are my fears actually realized? Very rarely. So why do I get myself all worked up over nothing? I suppose Panda Girl is just like me. It is amazing how easy it is to see this personality quirk in her, but how difficult it is to see in myself. Here's hoping she can teach me how to let go and live in the current moment. I don't want to miss the good stuff right before my eyes while anticipating something that will probably never come to fruition.

Review!!

I recently finished The Bright Side of Disaster by Katherine Center. This was Center's debut novel. The plot was not particularly original. In many ways the story is as old as time: Boy meets Girl. Boy moves in with Girl. Boy proposes to Girl. Girl gets pregnant. Boy leaves Girl. We have all read this story, seen this movie, had this friend.

However, what makes this novel worth reading is the characters. Jenny, the protagonist, is wonderfully written. Her emotions are real. She has a big heart. You root for her, even when she makes stupid mistakes. We see the mistakes from a mile away. She, however, does not. I found her endearing.

While I liked Center's second novel better, this one is worth reading. It is light. It is quick. It would make a wonderful beach book.

Father Damien

Father Damien of Molokai was canonized this week by Pope Benedict XVI. Father Damien lived, worked and died among the lepers of Molokai. When the citizens of Hawaii were afflicted with Hansen's Disease (leprosy) in the 19th century, all victims of the disease were sent to an exile colony on Molokai. They were not given proper homes, medical care or sufficient food. The colony slipped into chaos.

Father Damien came to Molokai to put the colony back together. He understood the risks to his own health, as very little was understood about how the disease was transmitted. He built homes and a church, dressed wounds, farmed the land and created a sense of community. His treatment of the sick has made him an example of how people should treat those with modern diseases, such as HIV/AIDS.

Hansen's Disease is caused by bacteria. It causes nerve damage, lesions and, ultimately, death. It is painful and disfiguring. It is estimated that as many as 95% of people have natural immunity to Hansen's Disease. However, many Hawaiians were in the 5% minority due to the geographic isolation of the islands. This natural immunity is why many missionaries were able to live and work among the sufferers without contracting the disease. Thankfully, modern medicine can now cure Hansen's Disease with a cocktail of antibiotics.

This was not the first I had heard of Father Damien. There is a wonderful novel, Molokai, by Alan Brennert. It follows the human side of those in the colony. It tells of the tragedy of children being ripped from their homes and families because of this misunderstood disease. This is a well-written novel that truly tugs at your heart. The novel picks up after Father Damien's death, but he is mentioned often throughout the novel. I hope you will take the time to read this important story. I learned much about a bit of history I had been unaware existed.

Yeah! I Did It!

I did it. I found a babysitter. After procrastinating for months, I have found a woman who I feel confident can take good care of our little ladies. It is time for Husband and I to start acting like a married couple (rather than just parents) again.

Our trip to New Orleans was great. We laughed together. We remembered why we liked each other in the first place. I want to continue this trend. Husband would rather continue to rely on family to watch the kids. We will still ask them for help from time to time. I like the idea of having a very capable young woman come and take care of them. I don't feel guilty asking a babysitter to come. I'm paying her. She is getting something tangible in return for her work. I am not inconveniencing her.

I truly hope this will bring us closer. We have always had a strong marriage. I just want to ensure it stays strong. With little ladies it requires more forethought. This is the start of that effort. I hope it goes well.

Sitting in Judgement

I am lucky enough to live in Houston, where Beth Moore has her weekly Bible study. The topic of our current study is Revelation. We are attempting to get through the Book of Revelation in 11 weeks. Clearly, we are not going to be able to study the whole book in-depth. Revelation is a book that has always intimidated me. My perfunctory knowledge includes the fact that judgement is one of the themes of the book. However, the book has always held mystery to me.

It is not always easy to make friends with other moms. I click with some immediately. I just know we will get along (I usually realize later that these women have many of the same traits my husband possesses). Others, make me leery. I know many moms are very judgemental. Some like to engage in the "mommy wars". I am not sure what the allure is to propagating these battles. They are not productive. They are unkind. It is not always clear which mom is going to be the "judgy" one. It is enough to make this mama nervous.

All I can figure out is this judgement comes from a place of insecurity. Since many of us are very insecure, it is much easier to rush to judgement than admit to this dirty little secret. I think this is especially true of first time moms. It is even more true of first time moms who happen to give birth to their "easy" child first. They tend to think all kids are like their little angel. They have no idea what it is to have a, shall we say, spirited child.

Thus, I guess I do have a good understanding of one theme of Revelation. It's the others that are such a mystery.

Imposter

It's official. I am officially one of "those" moms. I am the mom who is taking the easy way out. I am dodging the proverbial bullet. I don't feel one bit guilty.

Each year my parents do something special with each little lady on her half birthday. When Sweet Pea turned two and a half, she was obsessed with fish. So, her grandparents took her to get her very own beta. We found him a nice spot on the kitchen counter that was devoid of direct sunlight and drafts. The little ladies could not reach him without assistance. He was blue and surprisingly interactive. He liked to "dance" whenever we approached his bowl. I even found myself talking to him from time to time. He was a very good listener.

A couple weeks ago we noticed Mr. Fish was not looking very good. We changed his water and looked up fish ailments on the internet. Alas, it was not enough. I came downstairs one morning to see Mr. Fish at the bottom of his bowl, devoid of life. I do not handle dead fish. It is not my thing. So, once Husband was home, Mr. Fish was properly disposed of, or so I am told. As I said, it's not my thing. I prayed the little ladies would not notice. I was not interested in explaining death due to a very small, although loved, fish.

This morning Sweet Pea asked where Mr. Fish was hiding. I simply replied that he was sleeping. Thankfully, she accepted my explanation and was quickly on to the next thing. However, I realized I had a problem on my hands. I needed an explanation. I needed to be loving and sweetly explain that Mr. Fish went to fish heaven to be with God. I needed to find a replacement. Today. This morning after taking Panda Girl and Sweet Pea to school, I headed to the pet store. There, in all his glory was Mr. Fish's long lost twin.

Thus, I am that parent today. I am not feeling equal to the task of explaining death to my three year old. I am cheating. Do you think she will notice? Let's hope she won't, because I am a huge coward.

Inspirational

My book club chose Same Kind of Different as Me for our current selection. If you are looking for an inspirational read, I highly suggest this memoir. It tells the story of two very different men's lives. These two men have polar opposite situations in life. They are brought together by one incredible woman. The story is told in two distinct voices. Denver's is told in his dialect. Ron's has a more proper voice. I enjoyed the two styles, but I don't mind dialects.

Denver is a black man living on the streets of Ft. Worth, Texas. He was never given much of a chance for a "normal" life. Born into a sharecropping family, Denver never attended school. Never. The "Man", who owned the land Denver and his family farmed, purposely kept his workers uneducated. Denver and his family was completely illiterate. Thus, they had no way of knowing how much cotton they had produced or how much it was worth. All of their belongings were purchased on credit from the "Man". He kept the books. Thus, they were basically modern-day slaves.

Ron is a wealthy international art dealer in Ft. Worth. Luck brought him his career and much of his success. He attended Texas Christian University. He married a wonderful woman and had two great kids. He took everything he had for granted. Everything. He became complacent and judgemental.

Ron's wife Debbie brings these two men together. They never expected to become friends. However, life brought them together in an unbreakable way. The story is interesting and full of contrast. I laughed and I cried. Sometimes I loved each character and sometimes I loathed each character. They are so true and real. In the end the story was irresistable.

Leaving on a jet plane

Husband's job takes him away from us on a regular basis. The destinations are never glamorous. He typically goes to either the New Orleans area or to College Station, TX. He does have some flexibility. If there is something I need him to attend, he tries to work around the event. However, this is not the easiest schedule to manage. I rarely know very far in advance when he is leaving. Thus, I typically expect him to be gone. If he stays in town that week, it is a bonus.

One thing I know about kids is how much they crave a routine. It makes them feel secure. Panda Girl has been having separation anxiety on and off for months. It seems that just as we get it under control, he heads out of town, and the anxious behavior returns. The last few days have been better. Husband has been gone and Panda Girl has handled it well. So far. Tomorrow is going to turn her little world upside down.

Tomorrow Husband has to go back to New Orleans in order to attend a class on Sunday. Sadly for him, he has not seen Panda Girl since Tuesday. He saw Sweet Pea for ten minutes before bed on Wednesday, but that is all. He will be gone until Thursday night. I don't know how he goes that long without loving on our sweet babies. I am sure it is hard on him.

Since he knew this was going to be a long stretch for me, he was kind enough to ask me to accompany him. Thus, tomorrow we are leaving the little ladies with my parents and jetting off to New Orleans. I am very excited to go (I am coming home Monday at noon). This is only the second time we are leaving the girls overnight since Panda Girl was born, she is 17 months. I hope this will not be too much for my littlest lady to handle.

Thoughts on Memoirs

I love a well written memoir. I find them fascinating. The book I am reading now is a memoir. It was chosen by our book club to be our next conquest. When ordering the book for my Kindle 2, I saw the reviews were stellar. The average rating was five stars. However, there were a few rogues who gave it only a single star. I was intrigued. How can a book with well over 300 five star reviews, have a handful of one star reviews. I had to read them. I just could not help myself.

After reading a few, I realized what was happening with these reviews. The reviewers did not dislike the book as much as dislike one of the authors in particular. This is a phenomenon I have seen in past memoir reviews I have read. When researching Down Came the Rain, I found people reviewing Brooke Shield's life choices, not the book. I was annoyed by the public's inability to read a book and at least be polite. I wanted to comment on their reviews and tell each one (where the person was judging the life and not the book) to knock it off.


It is amazing how much we love to pass judgment on other people. I am no different. It is much more fun to gossip about others and judge their decisions. We are in the cheap seats and pulling punches is fun. How much better would it be for us to stop judging and start listening? How many of us ridicule out of insecurity? Isn't it easier to look at the speck in another person's eye without examining the log in our own? I know it for me. This has always been a weakness of mine. However, with two little pairs of ears listening to every word that comes out of my mouth (unless of course those words involve cleaning up toys, eating veggies, or bedtime, ahem), I am learning that I need to edit my comments. Something that is funny coming from a thirty something is not so amusing when repeated (several times) by a three year old. Hearing her innocent voice repeat my snarky remarks reinforces how tacky those snide comments sound. The next time I start to chastise someone else's choices, I hope I will take pause. I hope I will reassess the situation and shut the hell up.

Book Review Time!

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

I spent a large portion of this week on a sewing project. I wanted to learn how to sew and I made a quilt for Sweet Pea. She helped me choose the fabric and each day she would ask me if I was finished yet. Last night after the little ladies were tucked into bed I finally finished. Sweet Pea was thrilled when she got up this morning and it was waiting for her. As I write she is snuggled up under the quilt watching Sesame Street. She must really love that quilt because it is 82 degrees in here.


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.

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.