PPD can bite me

This morning I woke up, snuggled the new baby into bed with Husband and I. She laid next to me, breathing softly, sleeping.

Husband rolled over and snuggled up to me. On the boys monitor, I could hear our oldest gently and nicely wake up his little brother to play. It was Amazing. The joy I felt was so overwhelming and the love I have for my family shined so much, I teared up. Rubbing my daughters hair, holding my husband’s hand, listening to my boys being nice to each other and all I could think was “Wow… if I could bottle this right now, or even put it in pill form to take when the PPD monster rears her ugly head. Boy, I’d be set. I’d be able to get around what ever evil thoughts or self doubting I could possibly have. ” If it were only that simple.I know I’m at higher risk for PPD, this being my 3rd time thru this pregnancy thing and I had it with both boys.

DJ it was the feeling like a failure every way I turned. Not a day went by that I didn’t think in the back of my head how much I was screwing up being a mom or being a soldier or both. About the time I was starting to get the hang of it, the orders to move away from him and the husband came and it was like a sick twisted Alice in Wonderland I was in, following the rabbit down the darkest holes of my psyche, where I’d never be a good enough mother for leaving my baby so soon. That no matter how great I was after that time away from him, he would always hate me, and that he would always be right to hate me for being the non existent mom Monday thru Friday and some weekends as well.


Matt it was this fractured dark day where I was taking a bath with him, feeling so touched out and ready for him to nap somewhere besides my arms. I saw it so clearly, me drowning his tiny body in the tub. With a sick to the stomach feeling, my reality lurched on itself. Those weird out of body flashes you’d see on Ally McBeal? Just like that. Only it was me. Becoming those monster moms I judged on the news. And then I was back in the tub with him still cradled in my arms, staring up at me intently, enjoying the warm water. Okay then, time to go back on meds and talking to a professional.

But this time I’m trying so hard to not fall again. I know there’s a crazy high risk of me falling off the horse again. And needing the meds. My OB nurses were phenomenal, and all personally know me from the breastfeeding group project I took on last episode of PPD, and all were super watchful during my 4 day stay at the hospital. Day 3 I was a lot constipated and they thought it was maybe me hitting that button. I was still good mentally then, just like right now I’m feeling pretty confident. But having those extra people checking in, making sure I wasn’t about to end up I the show “Snapped”. It helps. These gals I consider my friends from our work together on the breastfeeding group. And since being home, I’ve been blessed with meals for our family from husband’s boss’s wife, family, friends. Blessed with friends who know my history who listen when I need to vent to keep myself on this side of sane and upside right. To remind me that I need to use my words when I think I can’t ask for help. And my husband who is willing to listen when I use my words rather then scream/sob incoherently much like our 2 year old when he’s frustrated. I swear have no idea where he gets it from, really.

So for now, I’m good. Feeling good mentally. But friends and family, keep asking. Because, even though I’m feeling confident now, I don’t want to be alone when I find myself falling again. I don’t want to be that mom on the news. And you guys are alot of why I feel so confident this time.

And I’ll work on doing what I can to keep myself up. I’m going to work out again. I’m going to ride my horse. I’m going to train more on my handgun and get good at it again. I’m going to focus on me so I can be great for my kids. Because, even when they drive me crazy, they are my bliss and happiness all in the same crazy package.

#Slice of Heaven # Messy Reality

One of my favorite blogs to read that’s much more put together then I feel most days called Baby Rabies (authored by Jill Krause) is putting on an awesome photography challenge and I wanted to share a few of my options for it. The original blog post can be found here.

My first one was #slice of heaven


With the #messy reality being


My plants ready for transplant once the garden is plowed, extra house pieces, the cloth diaper drying line and and extra step stool we keep out on the Sun porch.
Second option was #slice of heaven

#Messy Reality

Laundry, nursing pads, and big kid toys we keep taking away because of the little pieces (dang legos when you have a huge age gap…) More to come once DJ gets home from school.

Thank you so much @BabyRabies for the inspiration and being willing to share your #MessyReality

Huh, what do ya know the blog is still here

Except for the fact that it looks oddly like that abandoned cobweb covered corner of the internet. Ya know, no big deal. So here I am 3 months later from the last time I wrote anything. Apparently, my sanity took a hiatus for a while, and left a tornado path of my life all over the place. DJ is now 5 going on 16 and OMG I may just kill this kid if the attitude and subsequent tantrums don’t stop soon.

Matt is cute and adorable and such a hold me baby, that well, minor house chores are now major accomplishments if I get them done.

Today and yesterday have been whirl winds as I get back on task wih the houee so my newest parenting adventure doesn’t “add to the back log of work that isnt getting done already” as hubby put it. What’s this new adventure you may ask? New craftiness or buckets of fun? I wish I was cool enough to have something that awesome to share.

Folks, we’ve hit that point where saving money on diapers sounds like a grand plan. Currently between baby food and diapers we are spending between 50 and 60 bucks every 2 weeks on diapers and food. And by we, I mean we just myself for now until Matt is potty trained or I convince hubby cloth isn’t so bad… So I turned to the good ole Internet. Starting my search at ThebabyguyNYC, I found he does not do any sort of reviews or gear guides to cloth diapers. But he recommended this wonderful blog here. Let me tell you, this woman has the most thorough cloth diaper barney style you could ever really appreciate. She tells you the difference in the diapers now a days, the costs, and then if your head isn’t swimming enough, she reviews cloth diapers in video form, currently hosting over 100 video cloth diaper reviews. After extensive review of the forementioned videos, I decided on a few things. A) I wanted All in ones or all in twos (most like disposables in their fits and ease of use) and B) that I wanted to test drive one of these babies. The research lead me to a kinda local cloth diaper boutique calledLittle Padded Seats in West Des Moines.

The kids and I made the journey, meeting my aunt in law up there. Let me tell you, granolaville, this was like the capital of crunchy good earthy momma store if I’ve ever seen. We apparently missed the memo of a huge baby shower esk thing at the fairgrounds, but the 2 remaining employees were extra pushy helpful for their products. Although on a side note, going to crunchy granola store has its perks, hey had a nice enclosed kids play area, and one employee literally was babywearing her 2 month old while helping us. Hey, I’m all for trying to get your commission, but let a woman take it all in before you try to push her either into a huge dollar amount purchase or towards something she doesn’t want. As if summoned by my thoughts of “whoa whoa whoa let me just look before I commit to anything” DJ had to go potty, who knew I’d ever see value in my kids bowel movements! I finally picked this one,

and liked it so much I bought a whole slew of them on Ebay. Despite the sales lady’s pitch of buying all new diapers, $20 a pop is just ridiculous for stuff my kids intentionally gonna poop on.

Did you know there’s literally a plethora of accessories you can buy to make your cloth diapering more successful? Like sprayers to help clean diapers at the toilet? Or better yet, an actual container thing to keep your poop spraying contained and aimed correctly into the toilet? Should you decide to do the original origami fashion of diapers, you don’t hafta worry about stabbing your child with a safety pin. It’s crazy, how much stuff they have now for this. It is definitely not our parents cloth diaper scene. Wish us luck, we will post more on this later!

That awkward mommy looks like an alcoholic moment

Oh look, yet another month has gone by without me rambling into the blog. Dangit blog, you were suppposed to write yourself and I was suppposed to be drinking wine and gracefully raising not killing children. So in the month’s past, I have managed to finally get the main floor of the house clean, mostly because we hosted my second somewhat flopped Pampered Chef Party. I can’t help it, the idea of somebody cooking for me keeps luring me in. Especially when so far I had a show with 4 attendees and yesterday’s record of 1. Guess what that means? This chick gets awesome leftover I didn’t hafta slaveover myself in the first place.

But the somebody else cooks era of my love affair with Pampered Chef is about to come to a fully committed relationship. That’s right, I’ve been swindled into selling cookware. I guess in a round a bout way it could be worse. I could be selling Tupperware, in which nobody really knows if when you ask about a tupperware party if their talking storage containers for the kitchen, or the type of tuppperware thaat comes with batteries that you hope and pray the kids never find.  For the 2 readers who didn’t know this about me, I’ve done the consultant ropes before, with Mary Kay. Seems I keep coming back to these sort of things throughout my life, must be alll the sparkly pretty incentive stuff they pitch at me.

So on to that awkward moment. In true veteran fashion, any story worth telling starts with something to the effect of “So there I was.” And the military/ family members who just read that, also completed it in their head with something very derogatory and or just plain gross. IF you didn’t go there in your head A) what are you doing here again? And B) go ahead fill in the blank “so there I was” with the worst thing you can think of, trust me it’s fun!

So there I was, bottle of trapped moscato looking for a way out and not finding the $$^%#%#%@*(&^%^**%^$ cork screw. I looked in all three places in the misc drawer I usually keep it in, looked in the baby bottle drawer, under the misc drawer in the cabinet, all the while loosing my ever loving mind. Don’t you fools see this poor wine is trapped in a bottle and I need to free it now!! And then as I am cursing and looking around,  the 4 year old captor here asks me what I’m looking for. “The twisty thingy to open mommy’s wine bottles.” 4Year old pauses a minute, both of us looking in the misc drawer, when he reaches in calmly and hands me the wine opener. Good kid! I have trained you well! Hopefully your future wife someday realizes this brainwashing was for her, really!

What did I do all day? Seriously, you want to ask that….

Disclaimer: Sometimes husbands need to know that this question when asked in the wrong tone or at the wrong time can lead to much deserved spousal abuse.

That being said, here are some acceptable answers I have heard or given:
Kept the kids alive.
Showered and brushed my hair, and kept the house from burning to the ground.
Fed the kids and kept them from frollicking through the neighborhood naked.
Don’t start… pass the wine.
Why don’t you ask the kids what I did all day, I’m sure their version will make my version seem saintly.

A nursing momma’s schedule for the day
Unlike a normal schedule, a nursing Momma of a newborn will calmly tell  you the day does not simply start when one should be out of bed like 6AM, but instead starts the first time after midnight that baby wants to be fed.
12:30ish AM. IF you have been lucky enough to fall asleep between the 10:00PM feeding and now A) Congrats on the extra hour of sleep and B)it’s time to wake up and feed the baby. Take baby to changing table. Coo bleary eyed at new baby while changing diaper. Stub toe on Diaper genie then again on 4yr olds left out Buzz Lightyear action figure on way to couch or back to bed to feed there. Fall asleep while baby is nursing. Forget to set timer before falling asleep. Wake up to baby spitting up all over you and your side of bed. Go back to changing table to change diaper and clothes. Avoid diaper Genie, but step on Buzz Lightyear in a manner that sets off his booming voice saying “To Infinity and Beyond, complete with adventourous music”. Curse Pixar. Kick Buzz over to pile of toys more out of the way. Attempt to clean spitup off bed.Throw towel over remaining spit up wet spot, vow to wash sheets in the morning. Double check baby is sleeping in pack and play next to bed. Fall asleep with one arm draped into pack and play checking on baby.

3:15AM. Baby starts to fuss. Let baby play with knuckles etc for 10-15 minutes if your lucky. Baby is insistant. Time to eat again mommy! Take baby to changing table, change diaper while baby tries to bring your hand to his mouth to suckle on. Refill water cup for this feeding.Decide to feed baby  on couch  this time. Trip over small scale tonka truck. Nearly faceplant into coffee table while trying to keep from landing on baby. Curse all toys in home currently. Successfully feed baby without getting spit up on. Put baby back into swaddling sack and into Pack and  play. Make sure baby is nearly asleep while mommy escapes to bathroom and to refill water cup so its ready for 6AM feeding. Baby fusses, then falls asleep death griping mommy’s finger. Mentally revisit page found on Pinterest about warm rice in a glove found
6:45AM Baby has granted almost 40 extra minutes to sleep schedule. Attach now fussing baby to first side of feeding. Prepare coffee one handed. Silently thank God movers lost old coffee pot granting space for a Keurig, that can be operated one handed.Take first sip of coffee, place cup somewhere unobtrusive, burp baby. Wipe spitup off shoulder. Remember that bed sheets need washed. Attach baby to second side of feeding. Strip bed one handed. Carry balled up sheets down to washer in basement. Burp baby. Move wet clothes to dryer. Load sheets into washer. Go back upstairs and try to find coffee. Give up on coffee in the meantime. Change Baby’s diaper. Send hubby to wake up 4year old before leaving for work. Dress / encourage 4 year old to get dressed/ go to the bathroom. Get 4yr started on eating breakfast while watching Magic School Bus on Netflix.

8:10AM Baby’s hungry. Refill water cup enroute to changing table. Change diaper. Zone out fantasizing about missing cup of coffee. Get peed on. Realize that coffee is sitting on baby’s wall locker of clothes, and wasn’t a figment of the imagination. Move to couch, feed baby. Burp baby. Let big brother give his now usual hugs and kisses to the baby. Encourage 4 year old to go potty. Hold baby nearly upright to avoid spit up, while simultaneously reading a library book to 4 year old. Change over to Brain Quest cards after 3rd time through the same library book.

9:45AM, Attempt to fold laundry while 4yr old plays with newly acquired sticker book and baby is sleeping in swing. Manage to get 2 towels and some baby clothes folded before baby wakes up wanting to be fed. Have 4 year old refill water cup while nursing. Finish feeding, clean up sloshed water from kitchen floor. Start a movie for 4 year old while cooing baby to sleep. Run to bathroom, only for 4 year old to follow stating he needs to poop. Turn the baby monitor on and wait an eternity for the 4 year old to finish his business. Charge the shower, knowing we only have 30 minutes til baby is due for another feeding. Get hair shampooed, only to hear baby stirring and 4 year old on monitor. Rush out of shower naked only to find baby has fallen back to sleep and big brother has returned to watching his movie. Finish shower just as baby starts crying for the noonish feeding.

12:05PM Change diaper, start to feed baby one handed while preparing 4 year olds pb and j sandwich. Narrowly miss sandwich with baby spitup. Instead, get baby spit up in hair and down shirt. Curse under breath while handing DJ his lunch. Use baby wipe to clean spit up off mommy. Sit down, finish feeding baby. Burp baby while praying for no more spit up fashion accessories. Fix lunch for mommy, eat while baby curls up on lap. Start to doze, until 4 year old yells something incoherent.

1:55PM Change diaper for baby, and set up 4 year old with snack. Find and refill water cup. Locate super small tube of now much beloved lanolin for cracked nipples. Sit with intent to start feeding baby, just in time for 4 year old to need a drink of some sort. Latch baby on, get chocolate milk for 4 year old to go with snack. Settle in for the remainder of feeding.

4:00PM Remember that sheets need to go into dryer as baby starts to fuss for the next feeding. Run down to basement, switch sheets over to dryer. Forget baby feed timer downstairs. Fill water cup while holding baby. Run back downstairs for gadget while carrying baby. Get to couch, start feeding baby. Baby spit up dribbles down side of shirt. Wipe down baby’s face and wait a few minutes for baby’s stomach to settle, thusly pissing baby off that he is in momma’s lap and not eating! Think vaguely of what should be eaten for supper. Feed baby. Chase 4 year old to bathroom so he’ll make it on time without an accident.

5:45PM pull meat substence from freezer and begin to thaw in microwave. Glance in mirror and realize mommy looks like a hot mess. Attempt to clean spit up out of hair using baby wipes. Think about revisiting the whole dry shampoo idea. Ignore rest of hot messness and pick up mumbling baby for next feeding. Refill water cup. Feed baby, while 4 year old discusses taking baby brother back. Try to explain there is a no refunds no returns policy on babies once they are out of mommy’s belly. Forget to watch timer, baby spits up in hair again. Burp baby, make supper.

7:30pm Finish fixing supper plates for family, baby starting to fuss. Pick up baby, try to sooth while shoveling food in mouth. Laugh with husband as baby opens mouth wide in time with shoveling of food as though baby was trying to eat mommy’s food. Tell 4 year old who’s decided he no longer likes spaghetti that its either spaghetti or bed. Husband takes over 4 year old to finish eating/ get a bath. Refill water cup, settle in on couch to feed baby.

9:10pm Insist that 4 year old pick up toys before going to bed after reading 2 bedtime stories. Take 4 year old upstairs to room. Decide to start next load of wash since the bed sheets need to be brought upstairs anyway. Dash down stairs to basement with jeans while baby sleeps in swing. Pretreat all grass and oil stains on jeans for both Hubby and 4 year old. Feed dog in time for husband to say he already had. Bring sheets up from dryer, remake bed. Hear baby start to fuss. Pick up baby, change diaper and into pajamas or suitable onsie to go under the SwaddleMe. Pictured here

Say a thanks for the small things prayer like inventing sleep bags for babies that dont require 2 semesters of origami to put baby to sleep. Feed baby, put to sleep in pack and play. Try to get a load of clean clothes folded and off the couch.

11:30PM Hubby wakes you up because you fell asleep matching socks. Climb wearily into bed, knowing it all starts again in less then an hour.

OMGWTFSD was that?!!!!!!

If your squeamish, I would skip this entry, just sayin’. So for lack of a better term let me paint you a scene that was well worthy of an entrance to a Saw movie. There I was, passed out and enjoying slumber when out of my dream of reliving through my first dog leg amputation surgery comes this screaching and screaming noise out my window. To be even more precise, I was mid use of a gigli wire saw my vet had just passed me in my dream,  using care to not move said saw away from the location we were cutting,  while slowly moving the handles in a back and forth motion (the vet tech in me feels its totally necessary for me to point out that the dog having said surgery was indeed one of my own, and that again, this is not for the squeamish). While I am cutting said humorous bone, this blood curdling, toe curling scream brings me to the most upright position, while nearly jumping off the bed, tapping PTSD husband’s shoulder going and asking “OMGWTF is that and why is it dying under our window?” Here’s the part that I admit, I am from the desert.  My folks live in a city that has populated enough to chase away most everything away but squirrels, prairie dogs,  and the equally nutty snowbirds. Here is a list of what went through my mind as the possible offenders while my husband was attempting to wake up enough to identify what set off the paranoid pregnant woman he’s married to. A) a small child is being attacked at 3:30 AM in my yard, despite me not hearing the tell tale creaky floors of my son getting out of his bed upstairs. B) The adorable neighbor who goes duck hunting all the time got a new duck call in and couldn’t wait to try it out, only for it to be horribly defective at 3:30AM and he somehow can’t hear how it sounds like something is dying.
C) Bobcats, Racoons, lions and tigers and bears, oh my, also of note at 3:30AM. (Noting a them yet?!) D) Someone literally is getting maimed under my window, AT 3:30 AM! Finally, while all this screaming is going on outside my window, and somewhat in my own head, Hubby says “oh it’s probably a pair of racoons fighting or something.” While he rises to check the windows, my protective superdog, Latigo is cowering underneath me trying to squeeze between my leg and the bed, as if to say, “oh Mommy, please don’t make me go with him to see what that is?! Please.” Husband lays back down, as I am now fully awake more so then after a fresh steaming cup of Espresso. Finally the screaming stops, I go upstairs to find that apparently my kid gets his father’s sleeping patterns and has successfully slept through the entire ordeal! For your listening enjoyment, I have found this this morning to include as to a quieter version of what I woke to, and subsequently was awake because of for an extra hour when I should have been sleeping.

We’re having a pampered chef party…. here?!

So in case my daily insanity wasn’t enough, we’re hosting a pampered chef party tommorow. That’s actually been the motivation to get the hutch done and a new shiny hood range installed. We’re about finished with the  hutch, and hubby says he’ll put the new hood in this evening! Lots of fun and exciting stuff, so long as we can get it done today.  Pictures coming of the completed hutch and a good before picture of the rangehood. Also somewhere in there, we should put the play room back to usable state. Don’t judge, this is where I am about to be completely honest in saying that as long as the 4 yo puts all the toys in here at the end of the night, I really have zero cares as to how it looks when we don’t have company over.


Case in point, above. We all have that room or closet we typically don’t let anyone but close family know even exists. Guess what, this is a blog where I get to be that crazy lady showing off her pigstye room. Note that DJ have been trained to get everything in there just past the door way so the doors will close without hitting any of his toys. Yep, that’s classy right there!