A Little Bit of This, A Little Bit of That

Yesterday I had yet another psych. appt. Damn, this depression is as stubborn as my 2 year-old son! Basically I was told that there has been too much stress in my life due to my ILs, and this is hampering the ability for these meds. to work, or something like that. I was given ideas on how to reduce stress, although they were happy the number one stress factor, 'crazy ILs' has been eliminated for the time being. So I need to relax. Kind of sounds like the advice I was given while trying to get pregnant. Funny how things seem to go in one big circle.

After my meds. were adjusted, and another appt. made, we discussed Katrina. I feel bad posting mundane topics like potty-training while this has been happening, but sometimes I need a bit of a reprieve from the absolutely horrible things that happen in our world. At any rate, my nurse practioner had just been at the place where the the strom survivors, that sounds more positive, were taken. They had arrived in the middle of the night, and it was easy to see that my nurse was deeply affected by what she saw. She only told me about a father who had been separated from his family, and how awful it's been for him. Can you imagine? Then she promised to call me if there was anything I could do for them. Do you think that a clinically depressed person would 'qualify' for a volunteer position? Course, maybe I'd be an asset. I might be able to relate a little with how they're feeling. Probably not. Because although we moved 15 times when I was a kid, yes FIFTEEN, it was never because a storm blew my hometown to bits, and my family was always together.

I made the mistake of watching Oprah on Tuesday. Well, let's just say that the man who was sobbing because he had to leave his dog, the only thing he cared about in this world--the only thing he saved from his home, and just leave him to basically die. That was too much. That was the last straw. I prayed to God right then to help that man and all of the others, and the animals too, because let's be honest very few of them will be rescued. And starving to death is no way to let one of God's creatures die. I saw pictures of disabled people who had died in their wheelchairs, and thought about the babies who would not get the formula or breastmilk they need to survive. And I prayed to God to take the pain away from these people and animals.

And I am angry that the government, the local government to start, did nothing for days. Now come on, New Orleans' /Louisiana's government knew they were below sea level and this flood was a possibility. They should have had a plan, SOME sort of plan, about what to do. Those buses should have been in those poor neighborhoods getting the people out BEFORE the hurricane struck. But I digress. I also believe a clinically depressed woman should not watch Oprah's coverage of any tragedy. I learned that.

On a lighter note, I went to rent the movie Prozac Nation. I have just finished reading the book. Well, it was completely sold out. I guess there are a few more depressed people out there than I realized. Oh, goody.

Potty-Training Sucks!

I was going to try to come up with some clever title, but this one sums up how I feel about the day. We went through 13 pairs of underwear today! Through two packs of Elmos, not easily found BTW, 1 pack of Bob the Builder, and 1 pack of Thomas the Train. How does that add up to 13, you ask? I had to wash them ALL again, because he ran out of undies! And let me just say this, poop is disgusting in a 2-year old's DIAPER, but it is utterly putrid in a 2-year old's underpants!!! I just threw the pair out. Pissed Jeff off, but it was too gross! What is really disheartening is he NEVER once went in the potty. No sooner than I'd take him off the potty, that he would pee in his underpants! I am beyond frustrated!!! Any advice from those of you who have made it to the other side of this mess????? PLEASE, I NEED HELP!!!! Steve will be three next month, and showing absolutely NO signs of ever wanting to do away with his Elmo diapers, not even for Elmo underwear and a chocolate cookie. UGH!!!!!!!!

Saying Good-bye is Hard!

This past week I finally packed up all of my old maternity clothes, including those that were borrowed, put them in rubbermaid containers, and had Jeff put them in his trunk before I could say "UNCLE!" There is a woman at Jeff's work that loaned me her matenity clothes, and now I gave hers back and gave her all of mine. Which was a lot. Let's just say I overbought here. But it wasn't my fault. Gap put a maternity section IN THE BABY GAP STORE! Knowing how often I shop there for Steve, I couldn't resist. And being serious here, I am only 5'4" inches tall, so I've always had a problem with length when it comes to pants. And I was NOT going to pay a tailor to shorten my maternity jeans, I just wasn't! Gap jeans and Gap maternity jeans come in three lengths. THREE LENGTHS PEOPLE! So if your short, they've got ya' covered, if you're tall they've got ya' covered and if you're average---well, you get the idea. I seriously loved my maternity clothes this time. Oh, and I know why. It wasn't just because they looked more tailored and less like a tent this go-around, it wasn't just because I love GapMaternity--which I do--oh I do!, it was because I had boobs this time; BOOBS! BIG BOOBS!!! and they looked good; even my female friends told me that, and I didn't even ask their opinion. Yes, I am usually VERY small-breasted. As in 34A small-breasted. Let's just say I made it to C-status this time. This is truly the first time I have ever been excited about attaining a C in anything.

I miss my boobs; I miss my big boob clothes. I miss my voluptuous body. Now I have that jelly belly thing going on, and breasts that are only a teeny bit bigger than they were prior to pregnancy. I'll be honest here, if I didn't hate surgery so much and breast cancer wasn't in my family, I'd be thinking about having breast augmentation AKA--the boob job. And I am SOOOO not into plastic surgery; it scares me.

So good-bye maternity clothes, good-bye boobs...it was good while it lasted!

One this day one year ago...

My little miracle baby boy Ryan was transferred into my uterus. I have the picture of him as a three day embryo and the little petri dish he was created in. I can't believe it has been a year already. It was the most amazing thing I have ever witnessed, seeing that embryo, that baby, go into my uterus. I told Jeff I wish they had let him be there to see it, because it is like nothing I have ever seen before, or will ever see. The true beginning of Ryan's life inside my body. He is sitting right next to me as I type this, and as I look at him, I can't believe life ever existed without him.

'A new day has come!', Celine Dion

Thank You!

I just want to thank everyone who commented about my last post. Your comments really helped to boost my spirits.
As a side note, I am so excited about this weekend! Usually we have the obligation of seeing my husband's parents once, usually twice, over Labor Day. Not this weekend; it is all ours!!! This is the first time in years that I am not worried about a nasty phone call, comment, or yet another request for our time; our time meaning the boys' time. I feel free! Free-er than I have in a long time. I feel emancipated! Hope I spelled that right. Tonight my brother's wife and I are taking all of the kids, five, to dinner while my bro. and hubby go to the fantasy football draft; don't ask! Anyway, my family has just been so supportive, and this episode has made us even closer. I guess maybe something good did come of this. Although I could have done without the drama!