Sandy Hook

I’ve been trying to remain as ignorant as possible on this because my heart hurts just too much thinking about it. But I can’t stay silent. It’s especially difficult to process for someone who has a history of anxiety and depression. This past weekend was a tough one for me. I am by no means belittling what the Sandy Hook community is going through, just trying to paint a picture of what goes through my mind during events like these.

I don’t know what the right answer is regarding gun control. I do know that last Friday there was another similar tragedy in China. A knife-wielding man injured 22 children on a rampage through a primary school near Beijing. The key word here is INJURED. None of the children were killed. How many do you think would be dead if the man actually had a gun? It’s really hard to ignore events like this and statistics that back up how violent the US really is. And, of course there needs to be better access to mental healthcare. I remember back in 2001, when I had my first depressive episode, it took awhile to actually get the proper diagnosis, and I’m still working on an appropriate balance to manage the anxiety that continues to be prevalent in my brain. What I’m dealing with is *very* minor compared to others. It needs to be easier, and less stigmatizing, to get help.

It’s events like these that make me wonder why anyone would choose to bring babies into this world. My heart aches for Jeanne when I hear that someone called her names on the bus. I can’t imagine what kind of pain the Sandy Hook community is going through. And, as much as I try to ignore it, I can’t stop thinking about it.

What do you do to try to stay positive?

So Many Things

I’ve got so many things to write about that I’ve been purposely avoiding and also just avoiding due to laziness.  Let’s start with the things neglected due to laziness.

I forget where I left off.  Well, we did put our place in Rosemount on the market and it sold within a week of being listed.  The gentleman came through during our first open house and then presented us with an offer a few days later.  And then, after the inspection came through the buyer decided to back out.  Personally I think he had cold feet and told his inspector to be very “thorough” so he could get out of the deal without losing his earnest money.  Cue the second open house and second offer that same night from an empty nester. No problems with the inspection, and the offer was higher than the first one.  No check to bring to close this time!  The close is this Friday.  Here’s hoping the next few days go smoothly.

We closed on the new place on February 16th, and finally got the last of the stuff moved in this past weekend.  All of the boxes are unpacked and pretty much everything is in order.  We have some furniture we need to buy.  A couple chairs for the loft upstairs and new office furniture.  We’ve got wood blinds and several pictures waiting to be hung.  And maybe a little bit of organization to do.  Oh, and I need to figure out what to do for window treatments on the main floor sliding glass door.  I hate vertical blinds.  Once we’re done with getting the main living areas complete, then we’ll start worrying about furnishing the basement.

The garage, of course, is a mess.  I was going to try to leave that be until it started getting nicer outside, but nicer happened today, so I took some measurements in the garage for some Elfa shelving.  Yes, I am addicted to the stuff.  I’m also working on lining up gutters just on the backside of the house for now, and just started the process of getting quotes for the deck today.  Lots of stuff to do I guess, just most of it is hired out.

Now I’m off to waste a little time on Pinterest and do some online searching for office crap.

I Hate Mondays

Even if you generally enjoy your job, as I do, I think most people find their mood improving as the workweek continues.  But then, on the flipside, my mood kind of goes to shit on Sunday evenings, bottoming out on Monday mornings, especially every other Monday when I drop Jeanne off at preschool.  Why?  Well, because I’d rather spend the last of my time with her actually with her than at work.  Now, I say I enjoy my job, and I do.  But I do find myself looking at the clock.  A lot.  Anyone else out there like their job, but still find themselves yearning to be with their loved ones instead of at work?

But then, it seems weekends are always busy, so going back to work on Monday’s is almost like a respite.  And if, by chance, there is a relatively quiet weekend, I can’t seem to quiet my mind and enjoy it.  And, of course, no matter what I’m doing or not doing, time goes by so fast.  Too fast.  Faster it seems when you’re a parent.  I remember as a teenager hearing old people, like my mom and aunts in their 30’s (you know, *old*) talk about how fast time goes and I never understood.  Until now.  I think having kids makes you much more aware of your mortality.  And makes you want to cherish every moment.  Especially with your children.  And especially when you’re *only* a part-time parent.

The Shitty Weekend

Okay, so the entire weekend wasn’t shitty, mostly just Saturday morning.  It played out like this.

Jeanne had her first swimming lesson.  Now, she has not taken a group swimming lesson for a couple of years, and the last time she took one it was a parent-tot class.  She has private lessons at daycare every summer.  We got to the lesson well over an hour early because of my own error.  I thought the lessons were at 9:15; they are at 10:15.  Luckily there is also a water park at the Inver Grove Heights community center.  So, Jeanne played in there a bit.  At one point we were in the “deeper” part of the play area and I had her practice some swimming.  After some half-hearted scooping and kicking, I teased her a little bit about not being ready for Level 2.  I now regret this.

Cue the actual lesson.  There are both Level 1 and Level 2 classes being taught at the same time.  The Level 1 class has a big table that’s tossed into the shallow end of the pool so they can touch.  Level 2 does not.  The first thing the two instructors have the six kids in the Level 2 class do is sit on the side of the pool and do a lot of kicking in the water.  Not too sure what happened, but Jeanne slipped in while they were doing this.  All was well though because she got back out and continued.  My guess is though that when she slipped in she realized what Mark, Scott, and I would soon learn as well.  After all the kicking they had the kids jump in the pool.  No problem.  Next, jumping up and down in the pool.  Problem.  It is very obvious that Jeanne is struggling.  To the point that she starts crying hysterically and won’t leave the side of the pool.  I feel it important to mention that the instructors fail to notice or care.  Also, I feel it important to mention that there is no fucking height requirement for the class.

I run over there and learn that the water is over Jeanne’s head, 3’6″ at the shallow end.  Why did I not think of this before?  I have to tell the instructors twice that she cannot touch before one of them suggests that she use the bottom step into the pool for this activity.  Being the mean mom that I am, I give her two choices, continue with her group and stand on the step or move back into Level 1.  But at this point in time Jeanne is too freaked out to be willing to continue the lesson.  I cannot reason with her, so she requests Mark.  And, then he gets to play good cop to my bad cop.  From then on out she only wants Daddy.  He allows her to play in the water park a bit more, but when I decide it’s time to go, she clearly does not want to leave.  And then there was another conflict in the shower afterwards.  She cried throughout the entire thing, which took much longer than it should have.  The water was either too hot or too cold, too hot, too cold, hot, cold, etc.  Finally, I just sat on the bench inside the shower area and just let her cry until she finally gave up and rinsed her hair.  All the while she was asking for Mark, which I repeatedly said “no” to.

Now we’re done with the shower and ready to head home.  She does not want to part with Mark, and Scott ends up having to carry her out to the car because she is not willing to walk and I can only drag her so far.  The entire ride home, which was about 20 minutes, we got to hear “I want Daddy” starting out very loud, but reducing in volume as the car ride went on.  I am glad that Scott was driving because it got to the point where I put my headphones on and cranked up the volume so I wouldn’t have to listen to her.

We get home and of course she heads to the living room.  No, I tell her, you need to go to your room and stay there until I come and get you.  Again, and understandably so, she was not happy.  I had to hold the handle to the door for a little bit until she gave up trying to get out.  After I went back in to get her the rest of the day was decent I guess.  But man, that’s one of the toughest times I’ve had with her.  Ever.  Looking back at this I feel like I should have been more supportive, and of course can’t accept that I’m not perfect.

She’s just been generally more emotional lately and talks back more than usual.  I’ve also been more emotional lately.  Not a good combo.  Poor Scott.


I’ve been meaning to write about this for awhile.  Well, I guess I’ve been meaning to write in general for awhile.

Scott and I were pregnant, but we had a miscarriage on November 16th at w6d2.  I had really only heard about miscarriage often whispered about in dark corners.  Why is is such a big secret?  It’s a big reason why people don’t shout from the rooftops the moment they find out they’re pregnant.  But, what if?  Better not tell anyone, just in case.  Just in case what?  Just in case you might need some support down the road?  Maybe a handful or two of people knew we were pregnant.  And, yes it was hard to tell people we had miscarried, especially Jeanne.  But, it was certainly helpful to be able to talk to people about it.  I could not have imagined not telling anyone about the pregnancy and miscarriage and having to deal with all the emotions on my own.  I have a co-worker who miscarried at w12.  No one knew about the pregnancy or the miscarriage except her and her husband.  Again, I could not imagine.

To me miscarriage made me feel helpless.  I knew it was happening, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.  It’s an awful feeling, especially for someone who always feels like she needs to be in control.  I felt guilt for a brief while, what if I did something to cause this?  Some alcohol I drank or a medication I took before I knew I was pregnant.  And then there’s anxiety, something I’m a pro at.  Worrying about whether we’ll be able to get pregnant again.  I tried to tell myself, like I do almost every day, that worry is a useless emotion.  It’s a very unique type of loss, and I’m sure my description of it doesn’t do it justice.  It’s someone you’ve never met before but are already in love with, someone who becomes an automatic member of the “plan,” without hesitation.  There aren’t a lot of resources out there to help with grief after a miscarriage.  I was very thankful to be given a reference book as part of our checkout from the ER that night, and thankful that we had told others about the pregnancy at maybe a time some might think is too early.


I’m so tired.  And I can’t sleep.  Too restless.  And I feel like a have a big knot in my stomach.  A little heartburn too.

I hate being sick.  I think there are two main reasons for this.

  1. I tend to be a hypochondriac, so anytime I get sick it feels like a death sentance
  2. I feel like I need to be everything to everyone all the time

I’m guessing I either had food poisoning or the “stomach flu.”  Vomiting and lots of diarrhea.  And then after all that cleansing, today is the first day since Tuesday that I’ve had a bowel movement.  I’m feeling a lot better, but still not back to normal.  And I’m questioning why.  When I get sick, it brings out the worst in my anxiety (#1 above) and depression (#2 above).  And believe me, I’ve dealt with both for several years.  It’s not fun.  So I guess you could say I’m feeling a bit off.  And because, for me, anxiety and depression have some physical symptoms it’s hard to tell whether I’m still sick or not.

As I’m typing this I’m falling asleep.  Gonna set the laptop aside for now and see what happens…


So my mom asked me yesterday if I thought I might have a thyroid problem.  How this translated to my ears was, “Boy, your favorite winter coat sure is looking tight, why can’t you lose weight?”  I find this an odd question since I’ve just lost 8.4 lbs, down 2.2 lbs in the last week.  I’m still 4.2 lbs away from making my Holiday Challenge goal in 11 days.  So, I guess you could say I’m hoping for a Christmas miracle.  But, I’ve been meeting my eating and working out goals nonetheless.  I think the reason why my mom’s comment bugs me so much is because she’s never said anything to me before about my weight, even though I’ve weighed this much before.  So, why now?


Previous Older Entries