Confession Time: I’m Not Okay

I started going to a therapist on Friday.

It turns out burning the candle at both ends and constantly trying to convince yourself that everything is fine can be mentally and emotionally taxing. Who would’ve thought? It feels a little weird writing about this. I committed to honesty when I started this blog and telling the whole truth is part of that. The whole truth is that I’m struggling to stay my normal, optimistic self. I am not okay. This is not the me that I desire or deserve.

Worries about finances on top of the stresses of work, motherhood, marriage, and a thousand other issues have been eating at me non-stop for a long time now. I put off asking for help because I kept thinking, “things will slow down and I’ll be fine,” or “I’ll get the hang of this and it will be okay,” or “there are people out there who have it worse.” I’m sure that’s some sort of denial/survival tactic or something. Whatever it was it was stupid. Things are not slowing down any time soon and even if they did I would probably have had a mental break by then. I’m sure some things I will get the hang of, but some things aren’t the type that you get the hang of like struggling with the trauma of the first month of the girl’s life. And yes, there are people out there who have it much worse, but that doesn’t mean things aren’t weighing heavily on me. It’s all relative.

I’ve been to therapy before. I know that it helps. I think I just didn’t want to admit that I didn’t have it all together. Moms are supposed to have it all together. At least that’s what I’d convinced myself. I made the appointment about a week ago when I realized that I wanted to escape from my entire life, even my children. I wasn’t suicidal or anything extreme, but I didn’t really like anyone or want to see them either. I felt overwhelmed and like I was drowning. One time, I got stuck in mud up to my waist. I couldn’t get myself out and needed someone to help me. That’s exactly what I was feeling about my stress except I was in so deep that it was starting to get into my nose and ears.

I like to say that the only way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time. During my therapy session I slowed down and told the story of my past four years. I realized that I’d spent so much time focusing on each bite of the elephant that I failed to acknowledge the enormity of the elephant that I was trying to eat. In a four year period I went from a single woman to having a family of seven with two dogs and a mortgage and managing a team of 25 people (give or take) at a start up company. That doesn’t even take into account the details of the journey. I was over here trying to use inadequate tools to eat an elephant that was slowly crushing me. I was trying to eat my elephant using an escargot fork and a flip flop. I wasn’t making a damn dent and it was showing at work and at home.

I don’t have solutions to my problems yet. One session was not a miracle cure. I am not Super Mom and my bills didn’t magically disappear. I do, however, feel like I’ve got a better idea of what’s on my plate. I understand now that sometimes if you treat every issue as an isolated occurrence you lose the interconnectedness of the bigger picture. So this is me, taking the first step to care for my mental health. I go back in two weeks for another round with my very kind and patient therapist. I promise to keep you guys updated as I work through everything. Thank you for sticking by me and encouraging me along the way.

I truly hope that, if you’re reading this and it sounds like you, you’ll reach out and get some help. Please don’t be silly like me and think that you have to fix it on your own. Your mental health is worth way more than that. You are worth way more than that. Sending out boatloads of love into the universe for you!

Mommy And Daddy Escape

When you have children, it’s hard to get away. When all of your money goes to bills and food and you have lots of small children, it’s painfully hard to escape. This weekend thanks to awesome family and friends The Hubs and I got to take a little trip to New Orleans. Two days one night. Before having kids I would have scoffed at the idea of a one night trip being enough to recharge my batteries. Ha! I had less stress and more time but thought I needed more to survive. It’s all relative though right?

Anyway, we got to go down to NOLA to celebrate my brother’s birthday with the Ya-Ya’s. I mentioned them before in my post The Moms Who Made Me. My Mom and my Bonus Dad found us a great suite at The Quarter House. It was clean, comfortable, and each couple had their own bedroom. Having our own bedroom meant we could flip channels as much as we wanted to. I never thought I’d miss channel surfing when we got rid of cable and switched to streaming only but I do. We also had our own bedroom which was awesome because I got all dolled up. It’s not something that I do often anymore. I’d had the skirt I was wearing for almost a year and still had the tag on it because I felt too self-conscious to wear it.

We ate awesome food while we were in New Orleans too. I’m convinced that part of the reason that it tasted so good was because I was able to eat it without having to cook or get interrupted by a child. We walked around and looked in shops. Since it was my brother’s first time on Bourbon Street we had to take him to the piano bar at Pat O’ Briens. In honor of his birthday and Navy service we requested In the Navy and Anchors Away. We embarrassed the hell out of him and it was 100% worth it.

We even tapped into our spiritual side during the day. My brother had a really rough go of it recently and it’s been hard on all of us. This was the first time all of the Ya-Yas were together with him and so, as good Southern Catholic women do, we made time to pray. We left our daiquiris with our husbands (heathens all of them) and walked inside of St. Joseph’s Cathedral to pray with my brother. As we all knelt and held hands there were tears shed. With no words spoken I can tell you for certain that all of our prayers were of Thanksgiving as we all moved one step closer to healing. It was only fitting that as we left the Church the rain started pouring down. A cleansing rain, if you will.

At night when we got tired of the bars we stopped and had our tarot cards read by a very nice and startlingly accurate psychic. She accurately gave time frames on life events that we never mentioned or even alluded to in our conversation with her. Even if you don’t believe in those sorts of things she did a great job of reading people. I’d love to have her on a sales team. She’d close the sale every time. The Hubs and I both enjoyed getting our cards read and it helped us to talk about some of the things that have been worrying us. Overall it was worth every penny.

A special shout out goes to our family friends who watched The Twins for us. The girls clearly enjoyed themselves and are like Queens the whole time. I love my tiny humans soooo much but man it’s nice to talk to people who won’t burst into tears or scream at you when you walk out of the room. It was so great to spend time with the adults that I love, especially my Husband.

It Started With A Blown Tire

5:57 AM

I’m watching the sun come up over Lake Pontchartrain. My tire blew around an hour ago and I’m pulled over on the very narrow shoulder of I10 West. I’ve been awake for almost 24 hours now. 10 or so of those were spent on a painfully hot movie set. (Another story for another day.) A DOTD truck just stopped by and gave me some water since the tow truck is on its way. They were nice.

I’m trying not to fall asleep as I wait for my tow truck. Every vehicle that passes me flies by and shakes my car. The bridge shakes. The van shakes. I tremble with fear and exhaustion. I can’t stop thinking about another vehicle slamming into mine and killing me or sending the van and I hurtling over the side of the bridge. I had an anxiety attack earlier and cried and threw up. Gotta love a nervous stomach, right? To my right the sky is starting to turn purple and pink. You can still see the moon behind the purple clouds on my left.

6:31am

The tow truck driver startled me awake. We laughed and he got my van loaded up on the truck in about 3 minutes. When he called earlier to tell me he was on his way he told me he’d be there to get me in “twenty minutes if no State Troopers are out.” If that isn’t a Louisiana driver I don’t know what is. We head to a tire shop because I learned this morning as I frantically dug around my trunk and prayed I wouldn’t die that I have no spare tire. Beyond that, when your driver’s side tire has blown out and the road barely has a shoulder and two speeding lanes of vehicles to your left, you don’t change your tire anyway.

6:50ish am

My Bonus Dad is here waiting for me at the tire shop. My Uncle helped us find it. My little disaster woke up almost everyone in the family. It’s not a Diana adventure if it doesn’t cause a ruckus. My husband calls me. He’s angry and upset. We argue. Best not to cross a woman who’s barely slept in over 24 hours. My rational brain is no longer working and I’m running strictly on emotion at this point. We get off the phone and I take a nap in my Bonus Dad’s car while they put new tires on the Mom Van. Exhaustion doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel.

8:30am

The tires are on and we head home. The Hubs and I talk more. We start on our way towards making up from the morning’s fight. I can’t help but notice how much better the van feels with new tires. I should have replaced them sooner but it’s easy to put off tires when there are so many other bills to pay.

9:30am

When I open the front door the Twins greet me with shrieks of “HIII!” and big smiles. The Hubs and I talk and hug. He plays me a song on the guitar and helps me to get the girls situated so I’m not having to chase them all over the house when he leaves.

Evening.

I took a brief nap while the girls slept so I’m not completely dead. Crazy Eyes helps me bathe The Twins. The Hubs picked up Chinese food so I don’t have to cook. Once The Twins are in bed the four of us sit around the table and eat.

As everyone shares the best part of their day I can’t help but be thankful for all of the things that went right. My Bonus Dad woke up right before I called. I remembered that we had roadside assistance through our insurance. The tire company had exactly two of the tires in my necessary price range and I’d just gotten paid. My friend and Uncle both tried to help despite the early morning hour. I got to come home safely to the people I love. I tell them that the best part of my day was watching movies with The Hun and The Conqueror and eating dinner with everyone else. There’s nothing like a crazy day to make you appreciate your family.

Bad Morning

Two words: Dumpster. Fire. That’s the best way to describe my morning yesterday.

It started around 2am when my Husband started moaning and groaning and flopping around the bed like a damn fish on land. He tells me that he doesn’t feel good.He’s cold. His stomach hurts and he aches all over. I wish I could say I went all Florence Nightingale and swept in to nurse him to health but I definitely didn’t. Instead tole him not to be so loud, to drink some water,  and take an ibuprofen. Then I rolled over and tried to ignore him. It’s important to note that last time this happened I told him to stop being such a baby and it turned out that he had strep throat and had to be brought to the urgent care and then to the ER at 3am. Wife of The Year ladies and gentlemen. I managed to fall asleep for a bit.

At 4:30am on the dot The Hun started wailing. When you have twins who share a room, letting one cry it out isn’t really an option so I got up and got her out of her bed. She and The Hubs then took turns flopping all over the bed. Oh did I mention that she was screaming her head off? I got her calmed down with a bottle of milk and some Tylenol because teething is a bitch but those tools are magic. The Hubs groaned some more and we all went back to sleep. My alarm went off at 6:00am and I snoozed it till 6:30am. Things seemed to have settled down a bit so I thought I was in the clear. Enter Sassy God with the Queen Latifah voice, ready to rock my world.

For some reason, The Conqueror lost her tiny baby mind every time I put her down. When I went into the kitchen to make her a bottle of milk, she ran screaming behind me. Then, while I was making her bottle, her sister smushed her with a cabinet door. More screaming from both children now. At one point The Hubs looked at me, squeezed my hand, and asked if I wanted to get rid of them. The man’s got jokes. In the midst of all the chaos, I realized that The Little Bad Dog pooped right in front of the toilet in our bathroom. When I tried to put The Conqueror down, she immediately started screaming and crying. Nevertheless, I was about to enter the bathroom when I heard The Hubs shout MOVE! from behind me. Before I knew it he was bent over and hurling. Him puking would have been bad enough but in his hurry to get around me and avoid the Luna landmine in front of the toilet he didn’t move fast enough to get the toilet lid pulled up. (He blames me for this because he never puts the toilet lid down.) I won’t get too graphic but I’m sure you can imagine how bad it was. As he finished tossing his cookies, I called my boss and let her know that my house had exploded and I’d be late. To her credit, she was sympathetic and understanding.

My husband offered to clean up his mess but I told him to get in bed and entertain the girls. Ya’ll! It was so nasty! I used a hair clip to hold a paper towel on my nose and did my best not to throw up everywhere. (I looked so ridiculous that I snapped a picture just for my loyal readers to enjoy.)nose

My make shift nose plug wasn’t super effective. I had to stop a couple of times but I gagged my way through it. I got everything cleaned up and then got back in the bed with The Hubs and The Twins. We snuggled and everyone calmed down then I got the girls loaded into the van so I could drop them off with the sitter and to work.

The rest of my day was fairly uneventful. Hard to live up to that kind of shit show I guess. It seems that The Hubs may have had food poisoning. (I told him that Jack in the Box for dinner was a bad idea.) On the positive side of things, I now have a sparkly clean toilet and I didn’t have to cook dinner because he was tired and still feeling icky.  Here’s to better mornings to come!

 

Super Daddy

Sunday night The Hubs took the big kids “camping.” I put camping in quotes because, while it was outside and in a tent, they weren’t REALLY camping. Admittedly, people claim to go “real” camping with fancier set ups than they had but there’s something about it being in the back yard that makes it not so impressive. Even so, sleeping outside with a 7 year old and 5 year old who’ve never gone camping is a brave undertaking.

The Hubs agreed to sleep in a tent in the backyard with The Boy. Of course, Crazy Eyes had to get in on the action. I even managed to get Moose to go into the tent too. Luna doesn’t like camping or even being outside most of the time so she wasn’t about it. He made them write down their supply list and set up their tent. I fixed them water bottles and sent them on their merry way. It was a Sunday night but it’s summer vacation for just a couple more days and, well, why the hell not? To their credit, no one came inside during the night so I was pretty impressed.

When I went to bed I could hear them talking in the tent. (Yes, through brick walls and an entire yard haha!) I laid there thinking about my husband. Sometimes he drives me insane. He is frustrating and has trouble with feelings and talking about them. He’s by no means perfect, but he always works hard to be a good Daddy.

He does his best to teach them what he knows about life and the world around them. Through his actions and words he shows them so much. Despite being a big grizzly biker man, he’s got a kind and giving soul. I’ve watched him drop everything to help strangers and friends in need. When we had friends without homes after the flood, he never hesitated and agreed to let them stay with us as long as they needed. He walked the neighborhood for an hour once with a dog who’d wandered off from his owners until he found them. He likes to buy food for homeless people outside of gas stations and then sit down and talk to them when many others won’t even look at them. He judges people based on their actions and not their societal labels and does his best to teach our kids to do the same.

He encourages the kids to learn and try new things. Together we enforce the “you must taste everything on your plate” rule and we talk about where food comes from. Now the kids aren’t afraid of new food and love learning about cultures via recipes. Already The Boy has learned to weld and Crazy Eyes will soon too. He supports them in the things they love and doesn’t let them give up when they get frustrated.

It makes my heart explode every time I see my big strong man play with his tiny baby girls in all of their frills. He is ridiculous and makes up silly songs to make them laugh. He plays practical jokes and tries to mess with the kids all the time. He never forgets to tell us all “I love you,” because he knows how fragile life is and how quickly it all could change. My Husband has seen loss and war and tragedy. He struggles with the after effects of combat. Like many veterans, he could have easily slipped down so many dark paths but he fights for his family. I am so happy that I chose this man to raise children and grow old with.

My Alma Mater

There seems to be a preconceived notion that says only the people who peaked in high school and the people who had miraculous physical/financial transformations should be excited about their high school reunions. I think that notion is BS. I am neither of these things. I left Redeptorist and did well in college. Then I moved on to follow my dreams and start a family. (Went a little hog wild on that last one didn’t I?) My high school reunion was this past Saturday and I was excited about it. My husband was flabbergasted. How could anyone be excited to go to their reunion? Why is this important to you? Why do you care so much about your high school? I tell my husband that he can’t understand because he was never there.

In one of my Bonus Dad’s favorite novels, The Lords of Discipline by Pat Conroy (10/10 would recommend) he opens with the line “I wear the ring.” I think of it every time I put my class ring on. I wear it when I’m feeling nostalgic or when I need a reminder of where I came from and what I stand for. A wonderful woman who works on my team now is also a proud RHS grad. It’s been 50 years since her graduation and she still wears her class ring sometimes too. It wasn’t a large school while I was there but I’ve had the opportunity to meet many others feel as I do. Years ago when it was announced that the school would be shut down the alumni took to the streets and did their best to fight the decision. Obviously, most people don’t care THAT much about their high school but Redemptorist was so much more than that for so many of us.

For me, it was my second home. I remember crying on my first day of school there. I was scared and new and had braces, big hair, and no boobies. I found my home there though. No more was I the outcast. The teachers cared about their students. The students cared about each other. It was there that I learned how important it was to make sure everyone has a seat at the table. Where I truly learned that people with differing abilities make the world a better place.

In those halls and classrooms I learned so much about who I was and the impact I wanted to have on the world. It laid the foundation for who I am as an adult both in the workplace and at home. I embraced my intelligence there. I had my beliefs challenged. I learned how to stand up for the things I believe in without resorting to ugliness. I met some amazing, lifelong friends. I have many happy memories from there. At my reunion I was reminded of so many more.

Seeing my old friends was wonderful. It made my heart so happy to see how well they were doing. It was good for me to take a walk down memory lane and remember life before it got so damn complicated. Remembering where I came from has given me some of my spark back. It’s been a long time since graduation day. I wouldn’t do it over again, but I’m damn proud of my journey.

Cooking Crazy!

Every once in a while a magical Sunday comes along where I have the energy to get a thousand things done. This Sunday’s energy burst is brought to you by Walmart Grocery Delivery. Ya’ll, I had nothing in the pantry. I knew I needed to go shopping but thought maybe I’d see if I could order my groceries and pick them up in the afternoon. That’s when I saw the option to have my groceries delivered. Best $10 I’ve ever spent! I went on a cleaning and cooking spree! (Please excuse my sub-par photography.)

First, I made banana bread bars. I used this recipe from Easy Peasy Meals and just made it in an 8×8 instead of a bread pan. I added about 1/4 cup each of chocolate chips and chopped pecans. Additionally, I used 1/4 cup honey and 1/4 cup sugar instead of 1/2 cup sugar. After it cooled I cut it into bars about 1″ by 2″ and stored them in an airtight container in the fridge. The big kids even helped with this one so extra points for Bonus Mom time.

Next I started some sauerkraut. I love this stuff and so do all of the kids. We also have a friend who snacks on it almost every time he comes to our house. It’s the same stuff I put on my amazing hot dog the other day. I use this recipe from Gutsy By Nature. Its soooooo easy! I like to use it when I have extra cabbage from other recipes. It’s a naturally fermented recipe so it’s good for your gut bacteria too! In a few more days it will be ready to chow down on.

Then I made egg cups. These are some of my favorite breakfasts on the go and they are stupid easy to make. Just spray a muffin tin with non-stick spray. Put a piece or two of deli meat in each followed by some cheese. I like to use sliced cheese but use whatever you want. This time I also added some chopped spinach but, real talk, I should have left that out. Next you crack an egg on top of it all and bake at 350 degrees until your eggs are cooked the way you like. Once they cool I bag them up and put them in the fridge to heat up for breakfast during the week.

I also made a gargantuan pot of red beans but that’s a story for another day since that recipe is more involved than the rest. Suffice it to say we’ll be eating beans for a while even after I freeze some.

I also made spaghetti and meatballs but really that was just heating up frozen meatballs in Prego sauce with extra onion and mushroom. It’s boring but making beans to eat later in the week and freeze was my priority. So that’s my Sunday cooking story. The real beauty of it is that I didn’t have to cook anything other than rice and cornbread Monday night and didn’t have to make breakfast or lunch today. Go me!

Raising The Next Generation

Look around the world today and you’ll be greeted with stories of social injustice, anger, and confusion. It’s overwhelming and stressful to see. I say this, knowing that my stress isn’t even a fraction of what’s being experienced by the people truly living it. As a parent, you have to walk the line between protecting your children and raising them to be kind, productive members of society. My parents worked hard to raise my brother and I to be open minded and to see people as a whole being, not just their individual characteristics. My Husband’s parents raised him the same way. I didn’t realize how much this shaped my world view until recently.

You see, because I was raised to see people as people, I failed to recognize that in this day and age there were still people who truly despised others without even knowing them. I know now that that’s a form of privilege. While I have firsthand experience with discrimination based on my sex, I have never faced the kind of discrimination many around the world do today. I have the privilege of not having to truly see it because I’m not forced to live it.

I remember crying when I found out I was having daughters. I was scared because raising girls means difficult conversations about personal safety. It means worrying that their clothes may be too provocative and catch the eye of the degenerates of society. It means knowing that one day they may be told that their sex is getting in the way of their dreams. (I’m all fairness, I worry about that last one for The Boy as well.) We have a long way to go before it’s time for them to choose their paths, but as a mother, I still worry.

So what can I do to make the world a better place for my children? What can I do to make my children better for the world? I cannot live the experiences that others have, but I can choose to open my heart and mind to their struggles and learn from them. I can ask questions. I can accept that while I don’t agree with someone it is still possible to recognize them as a fellow traveler in life. I can choose to fight for those who don’t have a voice through my actions and words. I can choose how I raise my children and how I behave based on my knowledge of others. I do what I can to introduce them to others who look different, believe in different things, and have different life experiences. I try to show them through both my words and actions that when we embrace our differences we have the opportunity to create a beautiful world. If they learn anything from me I hope that it’s this: 1) Remember that all human life has dignity and value. 2) Do the right thing even when no one is watching. 3) Don’t be an asshole.

Let’s! Get! Weird!

Life gets weird fast. Yesterday my daughter somehow managed to slam my nipple in her board book, I cleaned out our gutters while under a tornado watch, and my husband spewed muddy water into the kitchen while trying to fix our water pump. The day before that my daughters had to be bathed three times because they kept getting dirty and during the final bath one of them pooped in the tub. A couple of weeks ago, my garbage disposal made a weird noise and when I tried to show the Hubs it completely detached from the sink. (Its fixed now thank God). Never a dull moment in my life right? Sassy Queen Latifah God has fun with me a lot. I probably deserve most of the weird stuff that flies my way and I actually enjoy having something to laugh about.

This weekend we braced for a hurricane. Everything I prepared for didn’t happen. The power stayed on. The house didn’t flood. We didn’t even eat all of our hurricane food. (Probably because I hid it from The Hubs and told him he was in for it if he ate it before the hurricane hit.) Life got weird in a different way for once. Suddenly I didn’t have a thousand things to do. It forced me to slow the hell down. I took TWO naps! TWO! For those of you that aren’t parents, that’s incredible. I cleaned the Twins’ room so it finally looks like a nursery. I washed laundry AND PUT IT AWAY! I made an amazing hot dog with beer cheese fondue, homemade sauerkraut, and grilled onions on it. (It was a glorious party in my mouth.) I feel like super woman. To top it all off, The Hubs made me tacos and bought me cheese & M&Ms.

It opened my eyes to how busy I always let myself be. One of my favorite books is Love Does by Bob Goff. I highly recommend reading it. In it, he talks about how he says yes to opportunities that come his way all the time but tries to quit one thing a week. Some things are obviously unavoidable but it’s time to start making time to slow down. That’s going to mean better managing my time at home and not just at work. Less time mindlessly scrolling through Facebook and calling it “me time.” (We all know that’s not fulfilling anyway.) Less time watching stupid videos and more time taking care of things so I don’t have to stress about them. (Ugh. Makes me feel like an adult and I sort of hate it.) Here’s to making time for more of the fun weird and less of the stress weird! Happy Monday everyone!

The Little Bad Dog

I’ve written before about Luna, my Little Bad Dog. Luna was the very first part of my little family. I got her and the rest followed. Recently I told someone the story of how I brought her home and thought I’d share it with you.

Before The Hubs and I met, I was in a long term relationship. We’ll call him The Ex. We spent 3ish years together and I was hopelessly devoted to him. Hopelessly devoted but unhappy all the same. I spent too much time and energy trying to be someone that I wasn’t. I blame us both for that. The relationship was rocky and had been extra rough for three or four months before we broke up. We made it through Christmas and things were looking up until New Years Eve rolled around. That night, instead of having the party that we’d planned, we broke up. I drove out to my Mom’s where I proceeded to have a meltdown and be an absolute disaster for a few days. Enter The Little Bad Dog.

You see, and this should have been a red flag, The Ex always talked me out of getting a dog. He made up a thousand excuses why. I worked too much. I was never home. Whatever. So on day two of my melt down I angrily blurred out that I needed to get a dog. I quickly talked myself out of it but my Mom started looking. It’s important to note here that she claims not to have been looking but magically found a post about a dog near her house the next day. After seeing her picture, I decided that I had to go take a look at her at least.

Of course, I brought her home. She was so damn cute. Look at her! I couldn’t resist! I should have taken her back after she pooped in my car the first time. It was a sign but I ignored it. If you’ll recall, she’s the one who’s poop I fell into in my Bad Naked! post. She’s my baby though. She was the first member of my little (okay, big) family.

The Hubs and I like to say that she doesn’t speak English and is part raccoon. We call her the Tiny Terrorist, Duna, and A**hole most of the time. Crazy Eyes once said that we should change her middle name to Doughnut because she was so sweet. I told her that it should be Butthole. Now her full name is Luna Doughnut Butthole Barnes. She doesn’t listen, eats everything within her reach (which is a lot because she can jump like a cat), and likes to bark at everyone who enters our house (including us). She’s also the best cuddled in the world, sleeps by my side every night and in our laps during the day, and loves Crazy Eyes to death. I get the feeling she’s still waiting on The Hubs and our other dog and all of the kids to go away but she handles it well most of the time. As much as we fuss about her, we wouldn’t trade her for the world….well The Hubs might. Haha!