A Little Farther Away From The Edge, Thank GAWD!

*So I started this post like a million years ago, but Typepad's new version is just sooooo SLLLOOOOOWWWWW, and it is literally driving me MAD.

And as we all know:  that is NOT a long trip.

Because I know you sweet, sweet dears are just sitting around wondering what in the H-E-double hockey sticks is happening around here (har har), here is a half-finished post that I will complete once this damn conversion has taken place and I can actually type more than 1 letter every three or four minutes!!

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It easily could have gone either way.

Either I was going to start feeling better…

Or I was headed for a custom-fitted, kicky little (very TIGHT) strappy white jacket.  (If you know what I mean and Ithinkthatyoudo.)

Thankfully, I am feeling better.  P to the HEW.

I have a long way to go, but each day I notice I'm not quite as anxious and things don't seem as overwhelming and end-of-the-worldy.

Don't get me wrong, I'm still several Ritz short of a box of crackers, but I'm better.

It couldn't have come at a better time because since we started the babies on solid foods a couple of weeks ago their schedule has been in total flux, and the idea of any change was SO hard for me to tackle I literally would have had a major meltdown – or TWENTY - if we had started a new schedule a few weeks ago.

So needless to say, I heart Lexapro. I want to send it a note after gym class, asking if it wants to be my date for the upcoming Sadie Hawkins dance, THAT'S how much I love it.

In other news, I had a reading from a psychic last weekend. 

(Because that's what we do in California, THAT'S WHY.)

It was at the same woman's house as http://mydearwatson.typepad.com/my_dear_watson/2007/01/index.htm

[Dear Typepad:  In general I love you, but today you are creating such major SUCKITUDE it's not even funny.  For some reason links appear like this, see above full URL instead of some clever wording I'm sure I would have somehow come up with.  What is your damage Typepad, WHAT IS YOUR DAMAGE???]

She had a very strong Australian accent and it took me a few minutes to get the hang of it.

"I see your major problem is nuhves,"  she said after looking at my outstretched palm.

"Nuhves?" I asked.  Was that bad??  I wondered.  That's ALL I need, NUVHES!  So THIS was my prob — wait, WHAT did she say?

"Nuhves! N-E-R-V-E-S!" She added helpfully.

"Oh, yes!  That is my problem," I confirmed for her.

And even though nuhves continue to be one of my issues, I am doing better.  And we're off tomorrow night to the same party we went to this time last year:  A screening of the new Pix.ar movie followed by a black tie party in San Francisco.

Thankfully, I am somewhat smaller and a lot less furry this time around.

At least I got THAT goin' for me.

Back From The Edge. Barely.

Why YES, I did drop off the face of the earth.

Thank you for asking.

OY.

Not to sound like a total baby whiner, but:  What a crappy couple of weeks we’ve had…

It started with my father-in-law coming to visit, which turned out to be very stressful.  And here’s something weird. And by ‘weird’ I mean ‘super annoying.’  A couple of months ago, BeBop opened his big yapper and spilled the beans to his Dad that I have a blog.

No one in my real life knows about this blog, except for the Blabber Mouth. Not my family,  not my sister, not one of my closest friends.

And I am afraid that although BeBop didn’t give him the URL, he might be trying to find it.  He casually mentioned how he found an on-line article I’d written a few years ago after googling me.

Suspicious, no?

So, needless to say, I’m a little paranoid to go into detail about why his visit was so anxiety-producing for me.  You’d think I’d also be worried about the fact that I have oft-spoken of my areolas and other various LADY PARTS in sickening detail around here, but I figure if you look for someone’s blog and snoop around long enough, you might get more than you bargained for!

NIPPLE NIPPLE NIPPLE NIPPLE

THERE! That oughta teach him a lesson!!

Anyhoos, the visit coincided with my Nanny getting sick, then BeBop, then Jackson and, finally, me.  Hideously, horribly sick with a terrible flu.

And really, is there anything worse than a sick kid?

I guess the answer to that question is:  YES, TWO sick kids.  But thankfully, Parker seems to have (knockonwood) an immune system built of steel because she was the only one who didn’t get sick.

And there’s more delightful news to share from Casa Watson.  All of this family strife and drama and the production of copious amounts of mucus also happened to coincide with a downward spiral for me in terms of the post partum depression.  I got so very, very depressed and anxious again.

Like I was living life under water, you know?  Just slowly making my way each day through a thick, gray fog of some kind.   I’m not too proud to admit:  this PPD is kicking my A-ESS-ESS.

"I’m not sure I can DO this…" I wailed one night after bathing the babies, feeding them dinner and putting them to bed.  Thankfully Bosco the Dog was the only one home at the time and I’d sort of pulled myself together by the time BeBop got home.

And by ‘pulled myself together’ I mean I was sucking down a Crystal Light raspberry lemonade spiked with vodka and shoving a frozen dinner of pesto cheese tortellini in my face.

(That just CAN’T be good, can it?)

Here’s the thing:  This whole Motherhood Business is much harder for me than others, that’s the only way I can describe it.  When other twin Moms say to me, "Isn’t this FUN?" with squeals of glee, I can only manage a half-hearted smile and meekly respond with a "Uhhhhh, sure… "

Many parts ARE fun.  And wonderful and glorious and amazing.  But it’s also SO hard.  The blue feeling I have constantly, the anxiety, the pressure.  The inability to think straight.  The self-doubt.

The other day I thought to myself, "Hmmmmm…I wonder if THIS is why people gain weight on anti-depressants?" as I shoved a giant, cream-cheese laden bagel down my gullet.

So yes, I’m back on the Juice.  And by ‘Juice’ I mean the Lexapro…it just got to a point where I was feeling too bad, too incapable of getting through the day and accomplishing what I need to at work and at home.

Let’s hope the second time is a charm and it doesn’t make so sick. I’m a few days in, and already feeling better.  Placebo effect?  Perhaps.  But I couldn’t give a crap, because  I can honestly say I am starting to feel better.

So that this post isn’t a TOTAL downer, I also have to say that we celebrated a very nice Mother’s Day last weekend.  I spent most of the day in sheer shock and disbelief that after so many years of truly hating the day, I was finally able to mark the occasion as a MOM.  A crappy one maybe, but still a MOM. And a very grateful one, too, despite everything else going on.

And the babies have started on solid foods, so we’re embarking on a whole new routine. Different schedule, new foods, the DREADED EEEEEEEEEKKKKKK! change.   (Which, as we all know, usually sends me over the edge.)

So here’s hoping the happy pills do the trick and I’m able to pull myself out of this abyss.

One-half of the reason I really, really want to get better:

Bc9s4443

 

PLEASE someone save me from this vodka-swilling, cheese tortellini-eating CRAZY woman!!