The Good Husband

I have a good husband.

I needed to write that down and give him the credit that he deserves.

He puts up with me when no one else would. I think in preparation of marriage they should make each spouse stay awake for 72 hours, gain 30 pounds, and make them do a large project together. That alone would be eye opening to what your spouse is really like.

Unfortunately, stress comes, weight gain happens, lack of sleep comes (especially if you decide you want kids), none of these things bring out the best in someone. If you think you're going to handle all that with your make-up on, hair done, and a smile on your face, think again. My husband has seen the ugliest of the ugly.

For two days I wore a stained t-shirt with matted hair because I was sick on the couch. My loving husband, made the kids dinner, cleaned up the house, and let me rest.

For two months our lives have been stressful, we moved, settled into a routine, etc. I was cranky, tired, and, well, really bitchy to him. He was cranky too, but he never turned away from me. He was always there.

Over the past year I have gained weight which has inadvertently made me push him away, not because I don't love him but because I didn't love myself, and where was my husband? Right there loving me.

It's taken me some time but I finally see, I see that no matter how much I push, how ugly I am, he loves me all unconditionally.

I need to shout this from the rooftops because he deserves some serious kudos. Thanks honey, thank you for being my best friend!

Starbucks

I have to confess, I've never been to Starbucks. Wait that is a lie, I went in once to steal borrow internet. I have never, however, ordered a drink from there.

Not only do I not need to have any more guilty pleasures, I definitely do not need one that costs 6 bucks a pop coffee. The problem is I don't speak Starbucks. I don't know what a venti-skinny-mocha-something or other is. Is there a class you all take to learn the language O Starbucks?

Now it's confession time. The one time I went in to steal use their internet I sat next too a gaggle of woman talking about what they were wearing to the spa the next day and about other fancy little tidbits of their super special lives. Which caused me to coin the term "Starbucks girls" that is my term of endearment for those over-privileged, stuck up, snobby woman we all know and loathe.

To be fair my mother-in-law, father-in-law, and many of my friends love the Starbucks. I don't think all of these people are "Starbucks Girls". Seriously though you know the people, the pretty people of the world. Isn't the term fitting? Yeah I thought so.

Now tell me how you learned to speak Starbucks because that question have been plaguing me for some time.

A Family Affair

When I was pregnant with Caide I was so afraid of gaining back weight that I had lost that I ate perfectly, (until the last month where I had ice cream everyday but that's besides the point). After he was born my husband was so excited that he started dragging me out for walks 3 days postpartum to show off our newest bundle of joy. Being completely honest at first I wanted to throttle him. THEN... those walks turned into me doing 20 mile bike rides and walks with the baby and other 5 kids everywhere we went. I looked AWESOME for just having given birth to my 5th child. I felt fantastic.

And then... winter came. It was harder to get out. I had gotten a gym membership but Mike got home late and bundling everyone up to go to the gym was a daunting task and slowly the weight crept back on. Summer came and I had been out of the habit of working out so the walks were less appealing and I didn't put forth the effort. Then we moved, then we left the country!! Let's just say 35 pounds later I'm at the weight I was when I gave birth to Caide. UHH not cool.

So this weekend I went and bought some running shoes. I was all set to go. Me against my fat one more time. Then yesterday my daughter came home from her Dad's. We had noticed that she has been slowly gaining weight. When she came in the door yesterday though it suddenly was really obvious. Despite my best efforts to feed them healthy, when you have a child that only likes junk I assume that she finds ways to get it. I don't blame her. I love junk too. I didn't get to be this weight eating only vegetables and tofu. No, I have passed on my unhealthy relationship with food to my 8 year old daughter, and SHAME ON ME.

I made the decision right then and there that we were going to change things. I asked Pete if she wanted to go to weight watchers with me. I told her it could be our fun girl thing to do together. I told her I wanted a buddy, because I was nervous to go alone. (not a lie) I made sure to tell her that she was beautiful but that I wanted her to be healthy and maybe we could go together and find a way to make her favorite things healthier. We've talked to her before about how you can't eat ONLY junk food. So she knows that we want her to eat healthier. It's a fine line though. I don't want her to feel like I am scrutinizing her weight. I don't want her to be self conscious at 8, but I also don't want her to have to be the fat girl. I don't want her to constantly struggle with her weight like I have. So.. here we are. It's going to be a family affair. Our family is doing weight watchers.

I need to lead by example. So here we go.... wish us luck.

I'm an Asshole

...or at least I feel like one.

Today was the kids first day at their new school. Last night we did a "dry run" of the morning walk to school. They all got new haircuts, we packed their backpacks, and picked out their best clothes for the first day of school. All the kids seemed optimistic, even Mason who's been the most frightened.

This morning everyone awoke, all seemed well. Mike took Blayre to his school and I walked with Mason and Peyton to theirs. My mind was spinning with every joke I had ever heard trying to keep the walk lighthearted. I could tell with each step we took Mason was getting more and more upset.

We got in the school and I took them to the office so that they could check in. They were all greeted warmly and a teachers aide offered to "specially deliver" them, and that's where is all fell apart.

Mason erupted into tears. I asked the teachers aide if she could take Peyton and come back for Mason. I sat him down away from anyone, I knew the only thing worse than how he was feeling was that all his new classmates were going to see him crying. I told him it was ok to feel this way. I know it as to be hard, but that he was a great kid and that he WOULD make new friends. He just had to trust me.

I got him calmed and we made the walk, "the green mile", back into the 5th grade hallway to his teachers room. Mason's teacher welcomed him and he started crying again. I knew how he was feeling, because I started myself to get misty eyed, but wanted to hold it together so that I too wasn't the crazy mother that cries when dropping off her FIFTH grader. I told him goodbye, him still crying, I whispered a joke that fell on deaf ears and I told him he'd have a great day.

His teacher told me that he knew how Mason felt he moved around a lot as a kid. While this made me feel better I don't think it helped Mason, and I had to turn around and walk away.

It never ends even though Mason stands just a head shorter than me, and can wear my shoes. He's still my baby and you never want to see them hurting.

Further more I'm an even bigger asshole because I barely even said goodbye to Peyton because I was so focused on Mason. Parenting fail.

I really hope he has a good day.

So We're Moving

Those of you that follow me on twitter or facebook already know this, but the move is here. This is the last week in our house.

We've been "moving" for 3 weeks now and I am ready to settle into one place. Just this morning I was going to get out ingredients for tonight's supper and realized one of the main ingredients is at the other house. I don't want to go buy it again, so I'm making something else. *sigh

It's these minor, but still annoying inconveniences that make me ready to get over to the new house already.

I'm also ready to let everyone get the "unknowns" out of their systems. Before you move to a new place there is a lot of, "I wonder what this or that is like". "Will I still see my friends?", etc. I am worn out from everyone else being so unhappy about our move. From the kid's dad, to the kid's friends, to my friends. On one hand it feels good to be so loved, on the other hand it makes me feel like an asshole. Here I am ruining everyone elses life because selfish me wanted to move.

The thing is it's not selfish. I was a single parent, the kids Dad isn't around during the week much, only on weekends. Mike was working far enough away that he couldn't help. The kids have 3 parents and I was the only one around to do the work. Mike was traveling over an hour and a half everyday which not only was expensive but left him exhausted when he got home. I had asked for help for the past two years and nothing was changing, so here we are, making a move that in the end doesn't change anyone's life all to much (despite what everyone seems to think), and makes several other peoples lives better, easier. There I said it, it's out there and that is all I am going to say about it.

Needless to say, it's been a frustrating, tiring, and I'm just ready to rip the band-aid off already.

On a happier note, I keep falling more and more in love with our new house. The more things we move in, the bigger the house seems, odd but awesome!

I got my carpets cleaned, and walls washed, and the more I am there the more it is home. The kids are getting more and more excited putting their rooms together. Hopefully when we make the big push this weekend for moving big furniture it will go quickly because of all the little things we have already moved. We can get all settled in and then... our trip to Spain that we leave for next Thursday.

Oiy. We are busy but it's good, and the craziness is almost over.

Some day I will post on here regularly... until then...

I was reading Girls Gone Child's blog post today about bad guys.

It brought up an interesting topic for me, one that isn't necessarily popular or agreed on by many parents.

I rarely censor my children. I don't censor them from curse words, moderate violence, certain toys, etc. Now don't get me wrong we aren't watching porn with the kids or anything, nor do we watch anything exceptionally violent with them. We do have limits.

However as for music, cartoons, toys (guns, swords, etc) I don't put up to many limitations.

WHAT?! Are you serious!? Yep absolutely, and here is why.

Eventually, somewhere, my kids are going to see/hear/experience these things. It's unfortunate yes, but it's also life. Instead, I chose to have conversations about these sensitive subjects and let them know what is true/false, right/wrong. I'd rather them go into a situation prepared and armed with the knowledge and expectations that we give them. I don't want to find them stuck in a situation where they are unsure of what is appropriate especially at an age where they can't rationally or responsibly make those decisions.

For example once our oldest started singing Eminem complete with all the wonderful language that goes with his music. He hadn't heard it from me, or anyone in our family, he had picked it up elsewhere.

So I told him that while that music is fun to listen to, those words are adult words that are NOT allowed to be said by children. I told him saying those things weren't for kids and that I didn't want him saying them again.

If he had heard those songs with me, be it on the radio or wherever I could have intervened and those words never would have come from his mouth.

So far it works very well. We have these conversations often, and our kids for the most part seem to really get it and understand. I'm also not terrified of letting kids go to others houses because I know they are armed with what WE have taught them.

So what do you do? Do you censor your children?

Depression Part 2

Depression is a strange disease in that some days you feel like you'll make it through the day, even fewer days you might have a *gasp* good day, and then other days you feel like you are being buried alive.

Today, so far, I'm having a good day. It seems so unfathomably that I could go from the depths of hell that I was in yesterday to laughing and playing with my children, cleaning house, wanting to go enjoy the day.

I really believe that it's this up and down rollercoaster that cause so many people to go un or under-treated.

By the time I realized I was having a day from hell, and that I was at one of my lowest lows, it was 4:30, Doctors offices were closed. So you say to yourself, I'm going to make that appointment I can't do this anymore. Then the next day you feel ok, and you think yesterday was just a bad day.

Most people would look at me and think, "she's not depressed." I laugh, I joke, I shower...

Truth be told I laugh to get through the pain, it's my coping mechanism. Great for me, but sucks when your trying to explain to people that you're dying inside. Dying people don't laugh donchaknow.

So here I am. I've done this enough times. I know I need to call and make the appointment. I will call, but it's just that sick up and down that takes me months to realize for sure that it's not just a bad day that in fact it's time to change some medications.

I should also say I have no shame in admitting that I take Prozac. I've taken it for years. I've been off a few times, but more on than off. I like myself better on it. I don't like being edgy, and crazy, and volatile. I assure you, I hate IT!

I like laughing for real and not because it's a coping tool. I like feeling peaceful and full of life.

I should also take this opportunity to tell those of you that might know someone that is depressed, it has nothing to do with you. It's not because you don't make the person happy. You can't just talk them into happiness. Depression is REAL, it sounds so cliche to say, but it is a real disease, that needs real medicine. If someone had cancer you wouldn't just will them to be cancer-free. Truth be told when things get thrown out there like why can't you just be happy, it makes the person feel worse. They don't know why they just can't be happy. Trust me if I could will myself happy I would!

Anyway, today is a better day, with a plan for health. Thank you all for your words of encouragement yesterday. I heard them all.