I frequently find her hunkered down, talking to and touching the gnomes. Whenever I get close she gets up and walks away. Coincidence? I think not.
Friday, September 9, 2011
The Gnome Whisperer
My brother, Ryan, used to tell us that gnomes were slowly invading. I think gnomes are using the little ones, Kellyn in particular, to assist with their invasion.
I frequently find her hunkered down, talking to and touching the gnomes. Whenever I get close she gets up and walks away. Coincidence? I think not.
I frequently find her hunkered down, talking to and touching the gnomes. Whenever I get close she gets up and walks away. Coincidence? I think not.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Things Heard Around Here
Scene: Kids are sitting at the table finishing their dinner, I am at the sink washing dishes, and Ryan has just left the room to get something. Kellyn begins to cry "Daddy" when he leaves.
Aric: It's okay, Kellyn, daddy will be back. You stay with me.
I'm glad that Aric feels protective of his sister. The whole time, though, I was thinking, "What am I chopped liver? I'm standing right here."
Aric: It's okay, Kellyn, daddy will be back. You stay with me.
I'm glad that Aric feels protective of his sister. The whole time, though, I was thinking, "What am I chopped liver? I'm standing right here."
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Shoe Lover
Kellyn loves shoes. Be forewarned if you come to our house and take off your shoes, Kellyn will probably put them on sometime during the visit and wear them around the house. All shoes are fair game. This summer in Minnesota at our family picnic, Kellyn was happy as a clam in the entry way trying on the wide assortment of shoes left behind.
Oh yeah, and her love for hats is still going strong.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Labor Day
Yesterday we labored more than expected. It started out as a seemingly innocuous day. We slept in woke up at the normal time by our two walking, talking alarm clocks. Decided that we would head to Best Buy, return home to mow the grass and later on grill out for dinner. This is what happened:
*Before leaving for Best Buy I ask Ryan if we can go to Lowe's to get a specific light bulb that I needed and look to see if they had one kind of plant on sale. He says yes. (The downfall of the day).
*Head to Lowe's, where we wander around looking at fireplaces, snow blowers, light bulbs, tile, plants and, of course, riding lawn mowers (the kid's favorite part of any shopping trip to a home improvement store).
*I buy, said light bulbs, three plants, and saw a tile for our backsplash that I kind of liked.
*We go to Best Buy where Ryan sells back some video games while I sit on the floor in front of a gaming system letting Aric crash a car repeatedly. He asks for help, which I am unable to provide because I don't game. When Ryan is finished we wander around Best Buy and leave.
*We go home. After measuring how big of a backsplash we have, Ryan sends me out to Home Depot. Ryan mows.
*I go to Home Depot don't see anything I like and then return to Lowe's. This time I have my color samples and decide I really like the backsplash.
*I return home, kids are eating, Ryan is mowing. I decide to weed eat and then work on putting the plants I bought into the garden.
*After the kids finish lunch we decide to head back to Lowe's and get the tile. (thankfully Lowe's is only minutes away).
*We buy the tile. Kids are satisfied because they "rode" tractors again.
*Return home, put the kids down for nap time. We head out to plant the new plants. We head back in. Ryan goes downstairs to play a new video game. I open a box of tile just to check it out.
*Go downstairs to ask Ryan to come up to answer one quick question.
*Spend the rest of the night installing and grouting tile. Ryan never returns to his game after my "quick" question. Ryan heads out with kids to pick up McDonald's for dinner because the kitchen is a mess.
*Did I mention I spent Friday evening and Saturday morning deep cleaning the kitchen? Yeah, we like to do things backwards.
*Before leaving for Best Buy I ask Ryan if we can go to Lowe's to get a specific light bulb that I needed and look to see if they had one kind of plant on sale. He says yes. (The downfall of the day).
*Head to Lowe's, where we wander around looking at fireplaces, snow blowers, light bulbs, tile, plants and, of course, riding lawn mowers (the kid's favorite part of any shopping trip to a home improvement store).
*I buy, said light bulbs, three plants, and saw a tile for our backsplash that I kind of liked.
*We go to Best Buy where Ryan sells back some video games while I sit on the floor in front of a gaming system letting Aric crash a car repeatedly. He asks for help, which I am unable to provide because I don't game. When Ryan is finished we wander around Best Buy and leave.
*We go home. After measuring how big of a backsplash we have, Ryan sends me out to Home Depot. Ryan mows.
*I go to Home Depot don't see anything I like and then return to Lowe's. This time I have my color samples and decide I really like the backsplash.
*I return home, kids are eating, Ryan is mowing. I decide to weed eat and then work on putting the plants I bought into the garden.
*After the kids finish lunch we decide to head back to Lowe's and get the tile. (thankfully Lowe's is only minutes away).
*We buy the tile. Kids are satisfied because they "rode" tractors again.
*Return home, put the kids down for nap time. We head out to plant the new plants. We head back in. Ryan goes downstairs to play a new video game. I open a box of tile just to check it out.
*Go downstairs to ask Ryan to come up to answer one quick question.
*Spend the rest of the night installing and grouting tile. Ryan never returns to his game after my "quick" question. Ryan heads out with kids to pick up McDonald's for dinner because the kitchen is a mess.
*Did I mention I spent Friday evening and Saturday morning deep cleaning the kitchen? Yeah, we like to do things backwards.
There is still another wall left to do, some touch up grouting, caulk and seal, and then put everything back and deep clean again. Hopefully we will get it finished this week.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
More than a Glimpse, Part 1
Note: This is more than a small glimpse into my life, but I wanted to share this in the event that it might give someone else courage to seek help.
Eight weeks ago I summoned the courage to make a doctor's appointment. It was a difficult day. I felt like I was back in school with that sick feeling in the bottom of my stomach, that feeling when you know you are about to take and fail a test. I went anyway, because I knew I needed to go. It was worth the risk of being called crazy. It was worth the risk of having people look down on me. I needed to save myself and my family.
You see, I have known something wasn't right with me for well over a year, maybe longer. My brother died unexpectedly, my husband started a job that took him away for half of the first year, we moved to a new house in January for a fresh start, I quit my job and was staying home to raise my two young children. I had always wanted to be a stay at home mom. Now I was, but I was miserable and nothing I could do would change that. It was starting to affect me. I had crazy, irrational thoughts that I couldn't not think about, even though some rational part of my brain was telling me they were irrational. I believed I was being a horrible wife and mother. The guilt was overwhelming. I have always been told I was a patient person, but I didn't have an ounce of patience left for anyone. I am ashamed to say, but I yelled at my kids about anything and everything. Anytime they did the smallest thing I flew off the handle and yelled at them. My thoughts of guilt were overwhelming- "What must the neighbors think?", "Would my kids grow up remembering me as the mom that yelled?", "What does my husband think?", "Why can't I stop?". It got to the point where Kellyn would flinch anytime I spoke to her. As a mom, that is sobering. I was taking care of the kid's basic needs, I was taking care of the house, but I wasn't available.
Ryan has to travel often for his job. I couldn't handle the times when he was gone. It seemed like a cycle; every time he left I would break down right before he came home. We would talk about it, argue about it and tell each other we were tired of it. I felt like everyone was patting me on the head and telling me it would get better with time; I would get used to the changes in our life. I knew things weren't getting better and I was getting tired of getting patted on the head. (It was the thought that they were patting me on the head, I don't think anyone actually did that.)
People normally tell me that I am a logical person with lots of common sense. I tell you that, because my thinking had become so skewed. If I had a particularly hard day (lots of yelling and guilt) I would grab a beer or two to take the edge off. I am not a big drinker. Normally I might have one if we grill out for dinner, but that’s the extent of my alcohol consumption. I actually had thoughts that maybe I should become an alcoholic, which would solve my problems. I had thoughts that maybe things would be better for everyone if I was dead. That small, still rational part of my brain knew that neither choice was an option. I knew that I should pray and read my bible more, but I couldn’t concentrate long enough to do either and didn’t know where to start if I could concentrate long enough.
I was ashamed of myself as a mother, a wife and a person. Somewhere along the way I realized that this was something much deeper than grief over my brother unexpectedly dying. I wasn’t handling anything in life. After one of our monthly arguments over my not handling life, something clicked. Maybe it was realizing that Kellyn was flinching when I spoke to her, maybe it was realizing that I was thinking about death entirely too much, or maybe it was just time. I’m not sure what changed but I realized that I needed help and that it was up to me to get it. I had been waiting for someone to swoop in and take care of everything for me, but no one was. I needed to take the initiative and seek the help I needed.
It was hard. I did lots of research and decided maybe I was depressed. I had a misconception that my parents and brother disapproved of depression and the treatment of it (they don’t). Regardless of what I believed about their opinions I knew I needed help. I set out with a plan to find someone with a godly background to talk to and to ask the doctor about taking anti-depressants. I knew anti-depressants would be a band-aid on everything and I needed to actually work through my problems. I was overwhelmed with trying to find someone to talk to. Thankfully, through a friend, God provided a godly woman to talk to. I met with her first before I made the doctor’s appointment. She gave me the courage to call the doctor and make the appointment.
That doctor’s appointment was difficult. It was hard sharing things with the nurse and then again with the doctor. I felt like I was forever marking myself with the word “depression”. The doctor did not condemn me or sentence me to a life of depression. She told me that she thought, with the timing of everything, that I have postpartum depression and prescribed an anti-depressant for me. That concept was hard to wrap my mind around, Kellyn is almost two. I always thought postpartum depression happened right after you had the baby.
I was told to take the pill that night and that I wouldn’t notice any results until about two weeks after starting the medication. The next morning I woke up and the world was a different place. I had an infinite amount of patience. I didn’t raise my voice once with the kids. That first week I didn’t do any house work beyond cooking dinner. The kids and I played. We laughed, giggled, wrestled on the floor, chased each other around and enjoyed our days together. Ryan noticed the difference, too. He said I seemed happier, a bit more like myself. I was able to think clearly, to read my bible, to pray again. The bizarre thoughts that had filled my head were gone. For the first time in too long of a time to remember, I felt like me.
To be continued…
Psalm 3:3- “But you are a shield around me, O Lord: you bestow glory on me and lift up my head.”
Eight weeks ago I summoned the courage to make a doctor's appointment. It was a difficult day. I felt like I was back in school with that sick feeling in the bottom of my stomach, that feeling when you know you are about to take and fail a test. I went anyway, because I knew I needed to go. It was worth the risk of being called crazy. It was worth the risk of having people look down on me. I needed to save myself and my family.
You see, I have known something wasn't right with me for well over a year, maybe longer. My brother died unexpectedly, my husband started a job that took him away for half of the first year, we moved to a new house in January for a fresh start, I quit my job and was staying home to raise my two young children. I had always wanted to be a stay at home mom. Now I was, but I was miserable and nothing I could do would change that. It was starting to affect me. I had crazy, irrational thoughts that I couldn't not think about, even though some rational part of my brain was telling me they were irrational. I believed I was being a horrible wife and mother. The guilt was overwhelming. I have always been told I was a patient person, but I didn't have an ounce of patience left for anyone. I am ashamed to say, but I yelled at my kids about anything and everything. Anytime they did the smallest thing I flew off the handle and yelled at them. My thoughts of guilt were overwhelming- "What must the neighbors think?", "Would my kids grow up remembering me as the mom that yelled?", "What does my husband think?", "Why can't I stop?". It got to the point where Kellyn would flinch anytime I spoke to her. As a mom, that is sobering. I was taking care of the kid's basic needs, I was taking care of the house, but I wasn't available.
Ryan has to travel often for his job. I couldn't handle the times when he was gone. It seemed like a cycle; every time he left I would break down right before he came home. We would talk about it, argue about it and tell each other we were tired of it. I felt like everyone was patting me on the head and telling me it would get better with time; I would get used to the changes in our life. I knew things weren't getting better and I was getting tired of getting patted on the head. (It was the thought that they were patting me on the head, I don't think anyone actually did that.)
People normally tell me that I am a logical person with lots of common sense. I tell you that, because my thinking had become so skewed. If I had a particularly hard day (lots of yelling and guilt) I would grab a beer or two to take the edge off. I am not a big drinker. Normally I might have one if we grill out for dinner, but that’s the extent of my alcohol consumption. I actually had thoughts that maybe I should become an alcoholic, which would solve my problems. I had thoughts that maybe things would be better for everyone if I was dead. That small, still rational part of my brain knew that neither choice was an option. I knew that I should pray and read my bible more, but I couldn’t concentrate long enough to do either and didn’t know where to start if I could concentrate long enough.
I was ashamed of myself as a mother, a wife and a person. Somewhere along the way I realized that this was something much deeper than grief over my brother unexpectedly dying. I wasn’t handling anything in life. After one of our monthly arguments over my not handling life, something clicked. Maybe it was realizing that Kellyn was flinching when I spoke to her, maybe it was realizing that I was thinking about death entirely too much, or maybe it was just time. I’m not sure what changed but I realized that I needed help and that it was up to me to get it. I had been waiting for someone to swoop in and take care of everything for me, but no one was. I needed to take the initiative and seek the help I needed.
It was hard. I did lots of research and decided maybe I was depressed. I had a misconception that my parents and brother disapproved of depression and the treatment of it (they don’t). Regardless of what I believed about their opinions I knew I needed help. I set out with a plan to find someone with a godly background to talk to and to ask the doctor about taking anti-depressants. I knew anti-depressants would be a band-aid on everything and I needed to actually work through my problems. I was overwhelmed with trying to find someone to talk to. Thankfully, through a friend, God provided a godly woman to talk to. I met with her first before I made the doctor’s appointment. She gave me the courage to call the doctor and make the appointment.
That doctor’s appointment was difficult. It was hard sharing things with the nurse and then again with the doctor. I felt like I was forever marking myself with the word “depression”. The doctor did not condemn me or sentence me to a life of depression. She told me that she thought, with the timing of everything, that I have postpartum depression and prescribed an anti-depressant for me. That concept was hard to wrap my mind around, Kellyn is almost two. I always thought postpartum depression happened right after you had the baby.
I was told to take the pill that night and that I wouldn’t notice any results until about two weeks after starting the medication. The next morning I woke up and the world was a different place. I had an infinite amount of patience. I didn’t raise my voice once with the kids. That first week I didn’t do any house work beyond cooking dinner. The kids and I played. We laughed, giggled, wrestled on the floor, chased each other around and enjoyed our days together. Ryan noticed the difference, too. He said I seemed happier, a bit more like myself. I was able to think clearly, to read my bible, to pray again. The bizarre thoughts that had filled my head were gone. For the first time in too long of a time to remember, I felt like me.
To be continued…
Psalm 3:3- “But you are a shield around me, O Lord: you bestow glory on me and lift up my head.”
Friday, September 2, 2011
Like Brother, Like Sister
Remember this photo?
It still makes me giggle when I see it. Someday it will be great to use in his senior yearbook or to show his future bride.
His sister is following suit:
She, however, must realize the ramifications of this, because she was not too happy once she discovered her photo was being taken.
It still makes me giggle when I see it. Someday it will be great to use in his senior yearbook or to show his future bride.
His sister is following suit:
She, however, must realize the ramifications of this, because she was not too happy once she discovered her photo was being taken.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Things Heard Around Here
Get your cheese out of your shoe.
Yes, my daughter likes to put food in her shoe and then eat from it like it's her own handy snack bowl. When we were staying at my parent's house we discovered her eating strawberries from her shoe. What doesn't kill us only makes us stronger, right?
Blech, I know where those shoes have been.
Yes, my daughter likes to put food in her shoe and then eat from it like it's her own handy snack bowl. When we were staying at my parent's house we discovered her eating strawberries from her shoe. What doesn't kill us only makes us stronger, right?
Blech, I know where those shoes have been.
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