I Don't Even Know What to Call This Post

I've been in some sort of funk lately and I don't know why or more to the point, what the hell to do about it.  My only guess is that I'm going through yet another of those glorious hormonal shifts that happen after you give birth, although at 3 and half months out I would think I'd be done with those for a while until I stop breastfeeding.  I've been grumpy and lazier than usual, I've been more tired than usual, I've been more boneheaded than usual.  I've been way more emotional than usual.  I just can't seem to get out of the rut I've gotten myself into.  I've started and stopped about 14 different blog posts, I've been inspired to dig out from under the mounds of clutter around my house but have lacked the momentum to actually carry out any of my grandiose plans.  I have about a million Boxtops for Education that I have to package and submit before next Wednesday (I am the Coordinator for Little Man's school), and I have fifteen cases of Girl Scout Cookies in my living room that need delivering - they are already a week overdue thanks to the wonderful snow and ice storms of last week - some sidewalks are just now getting clear and that's only thanks to melting, not due to the effort of anyone to actually clear things out.

It hasn't helped that Nemo has been up at about 4 am every night for the last four - I think he's going through a growth spurt.  This, combined with staying up late Tuesday night to finish the BurpCatcher post, means I have been running on an average of 4 hours of sleep for the last three nights, so that doesn't help any.   And yes, I'm harping on the damn BurpCatcher post and it hasn't even gone up yet, but I honestly feel like the biggest idiot for doing that.  I am Mortified about the whole thing.  I try to be a woman of my word - I said I'd do it on the 21st, I meant it to happen on the 21st.  I even planned on it happening right, and I just can't figure out how I managed to not post the blasted thing when I applied myself specifically to getting it done.  I'm embarrassed that I screwed up such a simple thing.

I get so damn tired of trying to figure this out on my own.  This motherhood gig.  I don't have a mother or a functional father (yes, Big.Issues.There.  Things I'm comfortable sharing but don't want to bore anyone with them so I don't), I'm really something of a black sheep as far as my family is concerned (they just don't get me), my in-laws are nuts, my good girlfriends live too far away to reasonably get together, and my husband is .... is, right now.  He's in his own funk.  I have a few good friends around here, but most of them are from Before Kids and they don't have kids.  There is no way they can identify with a lot of the stuff I'm going through, and I'm sure they get tired of hearing about poop and new car seats (didn't I tell you?  We moved Nemo up to a Britax Roundabout because he got too big for the bucket.  It's bright cherry red).  I tried to join the local MOMS club, but they have Rules that you must go to the club that is local.  Here that means by elementary school.  Our school is small, especially compared to other Montgomery County schools, and the MOMS club only has 6 members, and they all have 2 kids or less.  Which is fine, except when it isn't.  When I need someone to commiserate about the sheer volume of work associated with a larger family.  I need someone who has a clue and doesn't say "Oh, you have your hands full, don't you?" Uh, yeah, I got that.  They are.  I don't want someone to change that for me.  Most of the time I love it, except when I get too overwhelmed.  Which everyone does from time to time.  I want someone I can trade babysitting with without feeling like I am taking advantage of them because I have twice the number of kids.  I want someone to have playdates with who understands why my house is such a damned mess and doesn't care.  I want someone who won't judge my waxing and waning Catholicism (thus ruling out a fair portion of largish families).  I want someone who will have a drink with me from time to time without judging me.  Even at a playdate.  I want someone I don't have to censor my language or value systems around.  I want someone I can admit that I love heavy metal and 80's hair bands and I let my kids listen to them too and they like it, and at the same time I love American Idol, and they won't hold it against me.  I want someone I can be myself with, who just maybe understands where I'm coming from because she's been there, too.  Who understands why I cried when Trout brought home her permission slip today for her first field trip outside of the local area, all the way down into the city.  Who I can trust to leave my kids with with only a phone number to reach me and a time when I'll be home and know that they will be safe and loved and the won't be taught crazy OCD crap as the Gospel of How Life Is. 

I'm going through a spell when writing is failing me.  I've always used writing and words to work through these kinds of issues, and it isn't happening right now.  I wanted to say that words are failing me, but they aren't - it's me, and my relationship with words, that is hurting.  I'm unable to find the right words to articulate the anguish that I feel over my grandfather's cancer and this slow torture it is putting him through.  I'm unable to find the right words to convey the feelings that I have that Sunny is potty trained and she's done it practically by herself, the emotions about Little Man and the crush he has on a little girl in his class at school, the simultaneous joy, sadness, and fear at the realization that Trout is now grown up enough to enjoy going to the salon with me for a Real haircut, the concern that something Big is wrong with Nemo because he only poops every three or four days, and when he does it's a freakin' blowout (I keep asking him to poop a little every day instead of a lot every few days - so far he isn't listening).  I'm unable to articulate all that goes through my heart when I look at Sunny and see my mother's face looking back at me.  I'm unable to find the words to work though the fact that I feel so fucking stupid as a mother sometimes, that when someone asks me something because I'm Experienced as a Mom I get a cold feeling in my gut that they'll discover that I'm a fraud, that Nemo could tell them just how clueless I am a lot of the time.  I'm unable to find the words to work through the complex feelings I have about how my relationship with BigDaddyFish has changed and is changing as we evolve in our roles as parents.  I'm unable to articulate the abject terror I feel at the possibility that I'm going through postpartum depression and for a variety of reasons I can't take antidepressants, and if my writing is failing me then how the fuck am I going to get through it?  I have so much to say, so much built up inside that is struggling to get out and I can't find the right combination to unlock it.

Anyone got a good pick set?

Comments

[Sarah's Dandelions]

I can completely and totally understand how you are feeling... I too am terrified that what I am feeling is postpartum depression. I'm just SO tired and overwhelmed. I have 4 boys - 8,4,3 and 5 months. And my 5 month old only poops every three days or so (and BOY is it a MESS!!!) - the doctor said it's normal for breast fed babies. I don't know - all my other babies pooped like normal. Anyway, all that to say - your not alone!!

[bzymom13]

SOOOO not alone!!

[carmen]

Ok, there missy.

I wouldn't judge your house, I listen to 80's music and love The Clash, you would NEVER have to censor your language around me, and I wouldn't judge your Catholicism, and OMG, do I have complex feelings about everything and I feel like a complete idiot about being a mother sometimes.

You should know that about me.

[Mel]

I'm so happy you came to my blog because now I can come and read your blog rather than vacuum. Or mop. Or match socks.

:)

[Gem]

I just popped over here from Mel's, so I don't know where you live, but here in Michigan we've decided it's lack of sunlight! I don't know, maybe it's just February, too. Every woman I know in real life and nearly every woman blogger I read (at least those who will admit it) all are feeling the same way right now!

[Linds]

Right. Pooping every 3-4 days is normal. Look on it as a blessing. Order or chaos? Chaos any time. Forget one day at a time, and go for one minute at a time. Hormones up the creek? Oh yes, but they will settle down. I wish I had had a blog to write my head splitting feelings and fears and moans on when I was where you are now. I would have posted just exactly what you have said. And you know what? My kids are grown, happy and healthy and they do not think their mother was a failure. I had visions of disaster. It did not happen. You are NORMAL. I will be back.

[Kit]

I just found your blog and can completely relate to your post. This could have been me last year at this time, when my baby was about four months old. She is my fourth, and I had never felt so down with the others. Anyway, I, too suspected I had post-partum depression, but was afraid to really do anything about it. I knew in by brain all these things you can do to help with depression (exercise, eat right, get enough sleep, etc.) but where the hell could I find the energy to actually do them?! Thankfully, my depression eased after several months, but I won't say it wasn't a hard time. I can relate to so much you wrote, about needing someone to swap babysitting with, someone to just have a drink with...You are not alone, lady! Wish I lived in your area, and I'd set up a big ass playdate with all eight kids and a big pitcher of margaritas for us. My heart is with you.

[Uncle Orca]

You're a lot better at it than you think. Take it from me. :-)

[Fish-flopper]

I'm sorry you are so down right now - you know I am here to listen, stamp, drink, and/or kvetch (sp?) even though I am your before-your-kids, childless, nearly husbandless, too-far-away friend. :-/