October 8, 2007

Waterfront Property

We’re back from our trip and as promised, here are some of the photos from Green Lake. It was gorgeous. The weather was perfect. Humid actually. Temperatures were in the high 70′s and it was sticky. Thankfully, I remembered to pack shorts and t-shirts for everyone so we weren’t too miserable.

The boat ride was the best part because it was the only time we weren’t sweating our dupas off. I really enjoyed touring the town and taking photos. My favorite is the one below. I love that I got those purple flowers in the shot. The rest of the photos are here.

I must say that I am a bit envious of those millionaires who can afford this waterfront property. How do they do it? Are they all doctors lawyers and Chicago stock brokers?

A home on the bay of the lake.

Dawson poses on a park bench.

The Escapade yacht.

Loving the upper deck of the boat.

Sunset.

The house we just bought. (Ha.)

October 4, 2007

Flashback: One Year Ago

Last year, at about this time, I was experiencing some kind of depression. I look back on the words I wrote and I wonder if I’ve overcome my uphill battle. Here’s the post I wrote last year on October 6:

“This time Lord, you gave me a mountain. A mountain I may never climb. It isn’t, Lord, a hill any longer. You gave me a mountain this time.”

Some of you may be thinking I’m listening to Elvis Presley. Well, not currently, but on my way to work I sometimes pop in the King’s music to get me revved and awake for work. There’s something about “All Shook Up” that livens me up a little.

But this morning, I listened to the words to the song “You Gave Me A Mountain”, the chorus which I’ve typed above, and realized it rang true for me. I’ve got a mountain to climb and I don’t know if I can do it.

Lately, my life is calm, unusually calm. My marriage is solid. I’m happy and content and more in love with my husband than ever before. My son is beautiful and healthy and learning and growing right before my eyes. My dog is ever faithful. My relationship with my mom is stronger than I ever remember it. Even my sister and I are getting along like never before.

Sure, I haven’t been happy with my job lately, and I’ve thought of walking out one day and never coming back, but I realized that no job is perfect and it’s up to me to make it better. Since my attitude adjustment about my professional life, things have been looking up.

I have finally come to terms with the fall out with former friends, too. I thought I would miss them terribly, and while I’m still saddened by the events that took place, I’m content with the fact that we parted ways. Now that the barrel of emotions, both sadness and anger and heartbreak, have subsided, I’m happy in my life and I wish them the same; happiness and good fortune. I can’t hold a grudge forever.

So, yes, my life is unusually calm. No drama. No chaos. No day-to-day stress. The worst things that have happened in the last few weeks have been dealing with toddler temper tantrums and thankfully, these end quickly!

But even amidst this calm in my life, I can’t help but feel depressed. I know that many others often have these moments of despair, uncertainty, worry, doubt, [insert emotion here]. Are these emotions new for me? No. Are these emotions I can control? I think so. Then why do I feel helpless? I don’t know.

Last month at my annual pelvic exam, my doctor asked me several questions about my “mental health”. Studies show, he said to me, that women are more prone to depression and that Rice Medical has seen an increase in cases of depression among women, mostly mothers, who are suffering from delayed PPD or seasonal depression. Because of this increase they are taking measures to make female patients more aware of these conditions. I mentioned that I was concerned about this, because of my family’s history of these types of illnesses.

He asked me to keep a journal. This should be a journal of good days, okay days and bad days. It was in that moment that I realized it’s better to be safe than sorry. Yes. I would document my days.

After I had given birth to Dawson, I had my hormonal/emotional days of crying uncontrollably, even over happy things. I remember those days. They soon passed. Or at least I thought they had passed. It wasn’t until Dawson was 18 months old that I started having “symptoms” of depression. But I denied that it was depression. I didn’t think I had a problem. I still don’t believe I have a problem. Even though depression runs in my family. I don’t think there is a problem.

But lately, I think there’s a problem and I want to fix it. I want to fix it so badly. But I don’t know where to begin. I know that I’m not always happy. But I don’t know if I’m always sad. My brain has been working overtime, analyzing and re-analyzing whether or not I’m crazy. And I hate the word “crazy” because it’s so negative, but this is what keeps running through my mind.

Am I crazy? And if I were crazy, would I really be sitting around wondering if I am crazy? Do I need medication? Do I just need to relax? Exercise more? Change my diet? Spend more time with family? Will that make these negative feelings go away? Will happy thoughts replace bad thoughts in my brain? What should I do? Should I see a therapist? Again? Can I go through that? I didn’t do so well the first time and that was experimental for me. I really didn’t think I need to go then and I did. Should I go back? What will Doug think? Will he support me? What will Dawson think when he’s older? Maybe I’m just overreacting. Maybe this is normal, to feel this way.

See what I mean? I don’t know what to do. I have this mountain in front of me and I don’t have the ropes and guides to climb it.

What if I fall? What if I get to the other side and realize I didn’t accomplish anything at all? But, on the other hand, what if I make it to the other side and things are better? How will I handle the outcome either way?

“This time Lord, you gave me a mountain. A mountain I may never climb. It isn’t, Lord, a hill any longer. You gave me a mountain this time.”

But damn it…I’m sure going to try. I’m going to do my best to climb this mountain. And I hope to see you on the other side.

———-

I’ve changed a lot in the last year. In November of 2006, I did walk out of my old job and I never looked back. The job I have today is amazing and I like to think God gave me the strength and courage to take such a big risk and it worked out for the better.

As for that situation with my old friends, I’ve reconciled with one of them and things are well.

I think it’s amazing how much more grounded I feel today than I did one year ago. I still have ugly days where I want to yell (Tuesday was one of them) and then I realized this is normal. I am normal. (Although if the all of the world thinks they are normal I sometimes think it’s better to be a little nuts. Ha ha.)

I’m going on a work/leisure trip tomorrow and I won’t be back until Monday. I’m bringing my laptop and I’ll try my best to blog from Green Lake, Wisconsin (where the family and I are heading). Have a great weekend everyone!

July 11, 2007

Death Is On My Mind

After attending my friend’s funeral I began to ponder my own mortality and that of my husband.  It isn’t something I really thought about before. 

It’s not that I think I won’t die, someday, it’s just that the thought of leaving this world before I’m ready terrifies me.  I cannot imagine leaving my son, my little boy, to grow up without his mother. 

At the visitation, or wake, it broke my heart to see Aaron’s six-year-old son hugging his mother and asking, “When will Daddy come back?  Why can’t I see him when I wake up tomorrow?”

The tears started flowing and didn’t stop.  I started to think terrible thoughts about dying and began to worry about my husband dying unexpectedly. 

What would I tell my son?  How would I explain death to him?  Sure, I could ask him to remember the movie Bambi and how his mother died, but a movie and life are very different.

How would I survive without Doug?  I don’t think I’d make it as a single mother.  I don’t think I would be able to afford our home or to pay for Dawson to go to college.

When I got home I asked Doug about wills and funeral plots and life insurance and any other thing that came to mind.

The poor man looked frightened, as though he thought I was going to kill him.  I had to explain my fears and his response was, “We’ll worry about all that in a couple years.”

“But what if I die tomorrow?  What if YOU die tomorrow?” I asked.  “What will we do then?”

The blank look on his face told me he had never thought about death or he chose not to think about it.

I know I can’t live in fear, because someday (hopefully when I’m 85) I’ll be gone.  But isn’t it smart to have some sort of plan.  Something to prepare ourselves for the what-ifs?

The more I dwell on this, the more depressed I become.  Yesterday, all I wanted to do was hug my baby and keep him close to me.

I know this is irrational, but God help me, I’m a woman.  I get that way.

Am I overreacting?  Am I worrying about something out of my control?

I think I need to lay down.  I feel sick.

June 13, 2007

Showered with Questions

Sunday, I attended a baby shower for my high school friend. 

Her first child is due in mid-July.  It was very nice to see my friend, her parents and her sister again, as well as several other friends and acquaintances.

Doug had to work and my parents were busy so I had to bring Dawson along to the party.  I must admit that he was well behaved most of the time.  When they brought out the cake but did not cut it right away, Dawson had fit.  He just didn’t understand that he had to wait.

A few other mothers and I exchanged the routine child stats.  You know, how old is your child, what’s his favorite TV show, do you have any other children, any plans to have anymore, etc.

I always try to avoid these questions because I feel as though I’m being compared or graded. 

I always say the usual blurb, “He’ll be three in September, he loves Blues Clues and Dora, he’s my only child and no plans for another just yet.”

The looks on their faces were priceless, and I found some of the responses very funny.   For example:

“You mean he’s three years old and you aren’t having any more?”

“Wow.  Three?  If you have another they’ll be so far apart!”

“Oh, my daughters love Blue’s Room.  They’re two years apart, that’s how I wanted it.  Close in age so that I can enjoy my life when they’re off to college.”

“You should really think about trying for a baby now.  You don’t want your kids too far apart, they’ll grow up to hate each other.”

“Does your husband want anymore kids?  Did you decide on just one from the beginning?”

“You should try for a girl.  A boy and a girl are the perfect fit for any family.”

“My daughter is nearly 8 years old and I’m due at the end of the month.  I wish I’d have had another child a lot earlier.”

At the end of the party my head was spinning.  All the unwanted advice, all the judgment. 

Thankfully, I just smiled and nodded and ignored all the stuff I didn’t care to hear.  I was actually very proud of myself for being able to tune out the “shoulds”.

When did it become such a bad thing to have children 3-4 years apart?  My brother and I are four years apart, we fought like crazy because we were siblings.  I don’t know any sisters and brothers who do not argue. 

Since when is it mandatory to have a boy and a girl because it’s the “perfect family”?  That’s offensive to parents with two daughters or two sons. 

And if I have three kids, will I be considered crazy because two is ideal these days?  

I have to laugh.  It really is funny.

Doug and I made the decision to start trying in August.  We thought it would be nice to enjoy our summer and take Dawson on as many mini-vacations as possible.  We’ve got a full summer planned and lots of fun things to do. 

Granted, I wanted to have a baby a lot earlier, but the timing was never quite right.  Our lives are busy.  I’ve only been at my new job for six months.  We just finished paying off our medical bills and my car will be paid off at the end of the year.  For once, the timing is appropriate. 

As I was bombarded with questions and remarks, I began to wonder where people get the idea that it’s okay to impose their opinions on others. 

Perhaps it’s just a way to make conversation or to ease the awkward silence between people we just met by the cheese & sausage tray.

I suppose I could have just told people, “We plan to try this fall, we do want more kids, we just wanted to enjoy our summer with Dawson before bringing a new baby into our lives….”

I felt it was more important to focus on my friend’s happiness.  People love to give advice, heck I’m one of those people.  The only difference is, I wait until I’m asked. 

I’m surprised they weren’t asking the Mommy-to-Be when she plans to have her next baby! 

“It’s never to early to plan the next one!” one woman told me.

Seriously?  Do people do this?  Are there woman out there who plan their babies on a calendar? 

I can hear it now.  

“It’s June, our daughter is 9 months old.  If I get pregnant now our kids will be 18 months apart.  I’ll mark March on the calendar for baby #2.  Baby #3 should arrive in late 2009 and then we’ll be set.  What do you think, honey?  Does this schedule work for you?”

I’m not organized enough for that.  Count me out.