Toddler Tuesday

We went to the mall for toddler Tuesday this week. The special event was Yo Gabba Gabba, where they had coloring sheets, kid dancing activities, and the opportunity to stand in line for a very long time to "meet" Brobee. The other perks of it being toddler Tuesday are that you can get cheap ride points for the indoor amusement park and that certain restaurants offer a free kid's meal with each paid adult entree.

So. I loaded up the diaper bag for two, popped the double stroller in the van and strapped the kids in, all by 9:30 AM. I think I may deserve a medal. After dropping a few bills in the mailbox and picking up breakfast for myself at Burger King, we managed to get ourselves to the mall and parked and inside by about 20 minutes later than I originally planned to be there. Not terrible. Thanks to modern communication devices and text messaging, it was pretty easy to meet up with Sam's Grandma Kathy, my friend Jodi, and her son Truman. Sam did a little coloring, but we decided to skip the waiting in line to meet a guy in a costume and instead go buy wristbands and go on rides. I am so glad we did. Having a 1 to 1 kid to grownup ratio made a huge difference fun-wise. We just took our purses with us to ride the carousel: Truman with his mom, Maggie with me, and Sam with my mom. Originally I was going to sit on the bench with Maggie, but Sam was not at all interested in riding on an animal, so he and Grandma took the bench. Maggie rode the horsey like a champ, with me hugging her for dear life, just in case, but she grabbed the brass pole like a pro! Next the little boys and Jodi and I went on the Big Rigs ride, and Sam seemed to enjoy "steering" our Little Blue Truck and beeping the horn. Mom and I switched and she rode the Blue's Skiddoo with Sam while I fed Maggie. We still have a ton of points left, so I hope to go again another time soon.

While we were regrouping (read: while I was strapping Maggie back on and both Mom and Jodi were chasing runaway toddlers), we ran into Jordan and Reese. I thought to myself, "What a cute little girl with curly red hair" before I realized who it was. She was extra adorable with a black polka dotted dress and her pink backpack. She was patient and waited in line to meet Brobee. "He was so happy to see me!" she said. Too darn cute, that one. They had just had lunch, and were getting on their way, so we said bye.

We stopped for lunch at the Cadillac Ranch. I think it would be fun to go as just grownups sometime, but the kids did well. We didn't order food for Maggie although it would have been free. She just chowed down on fruit cups, crackers, and attempted to steal my food, with varying levels of success. Sam ate his chicken strips and french fries like he usually does. I got some delicious, if tiny, pulled pork sliders with a side of mac and cheese. They have a decent lunch menu where for $8 you pick one small entree and a side. Jodi got the same pulled pork as me with a cup of soup, and Mom got a small flatbread margherita pizza, I think, with a salad. I felt bad for Truman, since his mac and cheese didn't look half as good as mine. Blue box vs. penne with a real sauce. Sad. We were all reasonably stuffed by the time we left, and I'd go again for sure, but only on a Tuesday if I was bringing a kid. $6 for a kid's meal is a little steep.

On the way home, both Sam and Maggie fell asleep in the van, and I managed to open the back hatch of the van enough to snap this in our garage:

It's hard to see because of the shadow, but yes, Maggie can breathe. Her hood is covering her eyes but not her nose and mouth. I managed to get her into the crib and back to sleep after we came inside, so she took a good nap, but Sam refused to go back to sleep. Later that evening we went to dinner with the Brandons and he fell asleep in the car on the way there. Sam wasn't asleep for the night until 2 am. FML. Actually, no, I fell asleep before he did--F Dan's life. Poor guy.

Also, other than the above snapshot, I didn't manage to take any pictures of the day. Next time I will do better with that. We had a good time and didn't break the bank to do it. Including my breakfast on the way but not including gas money or the snacks I brought for the kids, I spent $32.04. Eating at home for breakfast would have brought it down to $26.38. Drinking water at the restaurant would have dropped the total further, and we still have half our point card left, so overall we could have spent closer to $20. Really, if we just walked after the event, skipped the rides or used leftover points, and brought lunch with us, we could go for the cost of gas.

Drop me a line if you want to join us next time!

Christmas presents, results post #3: Ornaments!

This is the last of it!

Here are the five ornaments I made this year, as displayed on my sad little Charlie Brown tree:

The pink and light green poinsettia I kept for our family.

The cranberry and dark green poinsettia I gave to the Brandons.

The snowman I gave to the Books.

The Santa Claus I gave to my parents.

The Christmas mouse I gave to the Maleceks.

I think the mouse was the best looking of the crew, and I didn't mean to play favorites as far as who got to keep him, but both Santa and mouse had to go to a family who didn't have any children under 3 years old in their house, because of the glass bead eyes. I knew I wanted Santa to go to my mom, since she and Dan disagree on the merits of telling children that Santa Claus brings them presents...so that left Kevin, Mandy, and Ella. I think I can trust a 6 1/2 year old not to chew on it, and I think I can trust that they won't let the dogs at it, so that was that. I mentioned before that I screwed up the light colored poinsettia by sewing the petals on backwards, so I figured I should keep it. Then it was just a matter of who gets Grumpy the Snowman and who gets a pretty flower. In the end, I flipped a coin. Shrug.

Depression, part 4: Motherhood

This post is part of a series on depression. Click here for parts one, two, and three.

Let's see, last post I left off with my pregnancy. Well, at least my bedrest. I'm going to leave Sam's birth story for another day, but I can sum up motherhood's effect on my depression symptoms: there was no time to be depressed, and I was blessed with a good hormone cocktail naturally--luck of the draw.

Let me state for the record that post-partum depression is a real thing; many if not most women experience it. If you believe you may have it, or you just feel something isn't right, please see a doctor. You have many options, and they do not necessarily involve having to quit breastfeeding (as many assume is the case).

Fortunately for me, after about the first bumpy week, all those happy breastfeeding hormones kept my depression well in check. There is also something to be said for the fact that you just can't sleep the day away when you have a baby*, or at least you can't sleep any more than they do. The feedings have to happen; the diapers have to get changed. Making the crying stop becomes your #1 priority. Luckily we figured out fast how to make that happen. Sam's first week he was a little hungry because I didn't have him at the breast quite often enough. We started adding a bit of formula (in hindsight, a terrible idea, but whatever) at night and things got sorted out. This eventually led to early weaning between 7 and 10 months, as we tapered slowly until he was only getting one feed at the breast per day, but I am proud of the time we got. The oxytocin boosts helped my mood considerably. I became one of the most laid-back people with, for example, a total lack of road rage and instead a "we'll get there when we get there" type mentality. Little things just didn't bother me at all anymore. I had bigger fish to fry, so to speak.

So, as far as my depression goes, motherhood has been a good treatment. I have to make a choice every day, whether to put aside my depression and keep my kid safe, clean, and fed, or let the darkness overwhelm both of us. Luckily it's always been the former. I'm at a point now where I ask for help sooner, lean on Dan more during the tough months, and let go of anything non-essential. Yes, my laundry and dishes do stack up. But there is always a clean sippy cup, a clean outfit, and food and milk in the house for Sam. Sam's first two years were very busy with doctor's appointments and therapies at least once a week, if not more often than that. When I say that Sam was my full time job, I mean it. Even on days when he didn't have appointments, I was doing his OT throughout the day, taking elbow braces on and off, etc. in addition to the normal mom-stuff.

For about Sam's first 18 months, too, I was seeing my therapist weekly or every other week. Having that one hour to take care of myself, without having Sam need me during that time, was a big part of how I was able to handle the stress of the rest of the week. I should also mention that I had help in the form of friends and family who would watch Sam on occasion and with regularity--those therapy appointments involved playtime with Gramma for Sam. I think all parents need small breaks every now and then.**

*Dan pointed out at the time or a short time later that this is still a choice. There are probably some parents who could choose to put in earplugs and turn on white noise machines and let their children scream, alone, for hours. As I prefer not to lose my son, these were not options for me.
**Naptime or any time baby is sleeping is not break time. It's "be very quiet and listen in case they wake up" time.

Christmas presents, results post #2: Who got an awesome scarf?

These ladies got awesome scarves (and cowls). I took crappy webcam pictures of myself wearing them just in case my models were reluctant. :) Then I ended up forgetting to ask. Oh, well. People said they liked them, so I'm happy. These are in the order of when I made them.

Ruffle scarf for Ms. Jena based on this pattern, in Patons Divine in Richest Rose and Night Sky.

Infinity twist scarf/wrap for Ms. Mandy based on what came out of my brain, in Patons Allure in Platinum.

Chunky cowl for my mom based on this pattern, in Lion Brand Chenille Thick and Quick in Terracotta. I made two others based on this pattern but haven't given them to anyone yet. One is gray like our afghan, and the other is purple like Steph's. I made both after I finished the scarves and cowls pictured here.

Lacy cowl for Ms. Jill based on this pattern in Patons Brilliant in Sparkling Rose.

Video Friday: Epic Church Sign Fails

I love these goofy things. The blog posts are just as good, but sometimes hearing the guy who wrote them is entertaining as well. Here is the first one I watched. It's got everything: Beer, doughnuts, hellfire, and Santa. (Do not watch with little ones listening, there is a "spoiler" about the big guy in red.)

Blog post here, where he notes: "This week, I go all 'Colbert' on you and start dropping product placements as if someone was actually watching. Hey, we can all dream, right?"

Christmas presents, results post #1: Afghans!

In chronological order of when I created them, here are some photos of my finished holiday work. These were all the TV-watching lap throws I made for friends and family. Apologies to the Books, who still don't have theirs.

Afghan #1 for my parents

This is the first time I made the 5 1/2 hour throw. I chose pink, sage, and linen to match their couch.

Afghan #2 for the Brandons

This is the second time I made the 5 1/2 hour afghan. I chose colors that reminded me of a rug in their living room, since I hadn't seen their new red couch at the time. I figured black, cranberry and light brown would look nice anywhere. Dan and Steph both really liked the look of this one.

Afghan #3 for Stephanie

This is the first time I made the super fast and easy throw. As I posted before, the name is deceiving, but I really liked the lacy pattern and was itching to try something different after two weeks of v-stitches. I would probably make this one again for myself in a different colorway.

Afghan #4 for us (I posted about this one before.)

This was the third time I made a 5 1/2 hour blanket, but I used the pattern for extra bulky weight yarn instead of three strands held together this time, since I already had the yarn on hand. It was a clearance purchase a few years back when I intended to make this blanket, but never finished it. (I had some in rust as well for the accent color.) Some time ago I had frogged it and wound it back into balls, so it was all ready to stitch up again.

Afghan #5 for Loretta

Another 5 1/2 hour afghan here, but this time I cheated on the yarn and bought three one pound skeins of Caron acrylic yarn. I chose the colors claret and deep violet for the red hat society colors, and added cream as the accent. I also chose to skip the fringe on this one.

Afghan #6 for the Books

This was my first time making the speed hook shell afghan. I chose Woolease thick and quick yarn in claret for this one, since Jill claimed no one was allergic to wool in their house, and I thought it would go well with their red walls and brown couches.

Afghan #7 for the Maleceks

This was my first time making the tasseled quick-crochet throw. I skipped the tassels partly because I didn't think I'd have enough yarn left, and partly because it was December 23rd and I just wanted to be done. This one was the most difficult for me to choose yarn for, since I haven't been to their house in quite awhile. In the end, the day the yarn went on sale, I just picked from the colors that had enough yarn to complete the project there in the store. The meadow green was the one I thought was the prettiest and that would go with whatever. It's mostly muted green with bits of gold, silver, and gray wound in. It's also sort of self-striping which I thought looked nice.

That's it! 7 afghans in about 2-3 months. I should probably start making them for charity now, right? Now that I've gotten into the habit, that is. I think Red Heart sells mill end bags of acrylic yarn for cheap. May have to look into that, since Sam has 3 Project Linus blankets from his 3 surgeries. Time to give back, I think. (Note: I wrote this weeks before I made my New Year's Resolution, and it was Caron, not Red Heart.)

Depression, part 3: My treatment journey

This post is part of a series: Here are part 1 and part 2, if you want to start from the beginning.

Before I get into the treatments I went through for my depression, I want to reiterate something since some folks have asked, after reading parts 1 and 2, if I am doing OK. I am. My depressions each winter get lighter and lighter, which I'll get into in a later post. Dan mentioned the metaphor of a roller coaster that is evening out. Slight dips rather than chasms, now. The reason I am writing about this now is twofold. One is that I feel a discussion about mental health is long overdue in our culture. All I have to contribute to that discussion is my own experience, which will differ greatly but also probably have a lot in common with other people who have had my type of mental illness. The second is that I'm finally ready to write about it publicly, because my remission is going as well as it is, and my symptoms are pretty stable.

My first round of treatment was a low dose of Celexa, which I now refer to as tic-tacs. Any effect I had from the first dose level was placebo effect, and I didn't do very well during the 2001-2002 school year at college. Incidentally, this was during the time that I turned 21 and was drinking more often than I had previously. When my parents helped me move out at the end of May, I was in pretty bad shape. This was my first major depressive episode. That summer, while living at home and working full time, I began seeing a therapist who, while being a bit of a quack regarding thought-field-therapy, did teach me some ways to think about my thoughts and identify them as being "child" thoughts, "adult" thoughts, or overly critical "parent" thoughts. (The second of the three is the most useful for decision making.) She helped me talk to my parents about how we communicated with each other, along the lines of "When you say this, I hear that." She taught me some simple relaxation/meditation practices which I used as needed. TFT was bunk, so I didn't do that at all after I stopped seeing her, but the rest was helpful. She also recommended that I see my doctor for a dosage increase of the Celexa because I was having trouble managing my thoughts and mood. It helped clear the fog a little. It helped me have a little more control over whether I would burst into tears immediately after thinking or talking about something that upset me. It did not help me haul my butt out of bed. I think at some point here we added Wellbutrin to the mix to help manage my lethargy, but I can't remember exactly when that was.

Some time the following fall or early winter, and I'm not exactly sure when it was, I was switched from the combination of Celexa and Wellbutrin over to Effexor. During the fall 2002 semester, I was living off campus with friends, and once again failing my classes. We were only about 2 or 3 blocks from campus, but as I've mentioned, Moorhead winters are rough. It was also during this time that I had my first somewhat serious boyfriend, who was very sweet but couldn't really cope with my depression. So we were on-again-off-again for a little while. Alcohol was a coping mechanism for part of this time, except that it just made things worse. I had a therapist, but the appointments were across town and only every other week, and I missed a few besides. She mainly focused on substance abuse, and wanted me to work a 12 step program with my depression, which wasn't really possible in the midst of the depression. This was my second major depressive episode, and at New Year's my parents helped me withdraw from school and move back home for good. I needed help and support that roommates, busy with their own academic and social lives, couldn't really be asked to provide. If you ever hear me refer to "the bad time," I mean either this time or the one before it.

Moving home and ceasing to be a college student at age 22 meant that I lost my insurance coverage as well. Luckily my amazing doctor was able to keep me in samples of my medication for the 6 months before I had a job with benefits. I started temping, and my second temp job was a temp-to-hire receptionist gig where they decided to hire me. It was only $10 an hour but the benefits were amazing. Eventually I was promoted to an office assistant and made $12.50 per hour before any raises. I stayed there for several years, during which time I moved into my own apartment, went back to school, dated a few guys, met and married my husband, and eventually quit to pursue other things.

It was a good job for what it was, but in the end, it became a somewhat toxic environment for me, which I did explain in my exit interview. Essentially, I had an absentee boss (through no real fault of her own) and no one picked up the slack to support my team, except to tattle on us if they thought we were screwing up. I decided at that point that clerical positions really weren't for me; I was sick of being treated like a child or a criminal or an incompetent just because of my job title. People in sales and management pay a lot of lip service to how great their admin staff is, but there is a disconnect between how people talk and how they actually treat their staff.

During this time I did have a slight relapse, in late 2005, which didn't help with my relationship with the rest of the office. Dan moved in with me about 6 months before we got married, because I needed someone to help me haul my butt out of bed in the morning, and it was either that or leave my apartment to live with my parents again. We decided that it would be better to just try to move forward with our lives together rather than have me move back, since we already were engaged and had set our wedding date. I was switched from the Effexor over to Cymbalta plus Wellbutrin, which helped a lot. The combination of chemicals affecting seratonin, norepinephrine, plus dopamine really kicked my depression out for a long time.  Dan didn't drink any alcohol so I kind of quit that by default as well, which helped, too. I'm not supposed to drink with my medications anyway. I still have a drink or two on rare occasions, but several months will go by where I haven't had a drop.

I stayed at that company for about another year, until well after we were married, and then left thinking I'd either go back to school or find another job. I ended up temping for a banking company for just under a year, and then tried to make a go of a small business (Auntie Mel's Gifts) in 2008. It didn't work out, but I learned a lot.

In the fall of 2009, I made a decision to really get my professional life together. I looked at which college courses I had the most of, and how quickly I could get a degree of any kind. I settled on accounting, figuring that it was the sort of thing that people always need and that I could do taxes part time part of the year after we had kids. Plus, I was good at math and paperwork and had already had taken a year of accounting courses at Concordia. I plotted out my courses and figured it would take me 2 regular semesters plus one summer term. I also began seeing a therapist again to help manage my stress and make better plans for managing my time.

I probably got pregnant my first week of school. We had been "not NOT trying" for a couple of years, but of course, nothing happened until I had other plans. Ha. When I found out in October that I was due in June, I decided to try to get done what I could, and figure out the rest later. I had to go off the Cymbalta and instead take a low dose of Zoloft. The majority of my pregnancy was spent just trying to keep my head above water. I continued to see my therapist. I tried to reduce my dose of Wellbutrin (with my doctor's supervision) and couldn't cope without it. Spring semester I ended up having to withdraw from all my classes except one--I just couldn't keep up. The day after my final in that class I was put on bed rest for toxemia. I got an A.

Stay tuned for part 4: Motherhood.