I had nothing to do with the above, I swear. I left the house for a doctor’s appointment, leaving Kurt in charge of Grace and her friend. When I returned home, this was on the fridge.
That is some funny stuff right there, folks. But it sort of sums up how I’ve been feeling lately.
I haven’t really wanted to talk about it here on my blog, but I’ve been a bit under the weather emotionally lately. I guess you could call it baby blues, or what have you, but it’s been no fun at all. I cry at the drop of a hat, I get upset at Kurt really easily, and I get so overwhelmed so easily. Sometimes I feel like Sisyphus, pushing my rock up to the top of the hill, but before I can crest the summit, the darn thing rolls back down again so that I have to start all over again. Sometimes it’s all I can do to get out of bed, knowing what all awaits me in the real world.
Today was my post-partum doctor’s visit, what Kurt cleverly calls my “well-wife” visit (you know, like when you take your kid in for well-baby checkups). I had to fill out a questionnaire as to how depressed I was feeling. I almost wish Kurt could have filled it out for me; he’s much better at seeing how I’m behaving than I am.
My doctor then sat me down and questioned me based on my answers. She also gave me a pep talk of sorts, and told me it’s utter bullshit (her word, not mine) when people tell you it’s easier with two. Maybe later in the game, when they can play together, but initially, when you are being pushed and pulled in two different directions with your two kids, it’s very difficult. Everything takes so much longer. Just going to swim lessons entails an extra twenty to thirty minutes preparation to get Mary Ellen fed and changed before we go, whereas before I’d tell Grace to put her swimsuit on five minutes before we left.
The pep talk helped a bit, and knowing I’m to call her in a week to discuss whether I might need medication is also helping because now I know it’s an option. It also helps that I have so much support and friendship and love here. I know I’ve said it before, but it’s just amazing what living in housing and having fellow military wives as friends has done for me. For instance, this morning I went to the thrift store with one friend, watched another friend’s son, and visited my friend Pamela after my doctor’s appointment. And once I got home, a fourth friend stopped by to ask me a question. I am not given the opportunity to sit in my house and wallow in my self-doubt and misery, and that’s a very good thing.
Then I have the ladies (as well as a couple of ManJets) on my Flickr discussion group, to whom I can spill anything and everything, and not be judged or dismissed or made to feel badly. They’ve all been incredibly supportive of me, and everyone else on the group, that it’s amazing. We’ve hit a few rough patches here and there, but I think we’ve weathered them well and come out stronger on the other side for them.
However, one of my Flickr friends is having a very difficult time dealing with a shit-tacular situation not of her own making, and I wish I could do more for her than simply lend her an ear when she needs it. But she is an amazing and wonderful woman, and I know eventually she’ll be just fine.
Bahhh, what a depressing post. Well, hopefully it’s just temporary. Baby blues can’t last forever, and there’s always the option for medication. Also I managed to score some excellent deals at the thrift store today (two shirts for me, two pairs of jeans and three shirts for Grace, and for Mary Ellen four footed rompers, one sweater with a tassled hood, and two pairs of footed overalls, all for $50), and how can you be sad when you get such great deals?
Now if only I could guarantee Kurt an A in calculus, we’d be all set.