A Slippery Slope...

I am so dog gone tired. Exhausted. I haven't been sleeping well the past 3-4 nights. Caden is sick. Snotty nose. We took him to his 9 mo check up last Thursday and he was well. He's just in the 20% for weight. So I am trying to bulk up his calories. He isn't frail or skinny. Just not as heavy as most babies his age. But now with the nose stuff--he doesn't really want to eat much.

Last night was the worst. I went to sleep around 10:30PM on the couch. Caden in his pack n play in the living room with me. I was up at 11:00PM, 11:35PM, 12:10AM (this time because Moonpie needed my help--Claudia had thrown up in our bed), 1:20AM, 3:45AM and 5:45AM. At 1:20 I just put Caden on my chest on the couch with me--he tossed and turned. Flipped and flopped. Whimpered and whined. I changed his diaper. Gave him a bottle and cussed out him, me and whoever was shining a flashlight in a voodoo doll that resembled ME.

I got the kids up at 7:00AM and carried them to the car. I wore my pj's and socks while I drove Calie to school. But then they needed feeding and dressing and talking to and refereeing...I am so tired. I did eat lunch and feed them too.

The exhaustion is what drags me. If I get to tired or draggy--then the darkness settles in. The tone gets rougher--the words snappy. The threats to maim more frequent.

Well, gotta go. Caden is screaming his head off and the other two are too quiet--that usually means someone is naked and the other has a marker in their hand...

Claudie Bean Brag...

I know I gripe (bitch) about my kids alot. But they are so funny, cute and they light up my mind most of the time. Carson's favorite saying of late? "Mom? I like your face. Come 'ere you!" He tells me that he heard this on "The Lion King" (one? or two?), but I never remember hearing it. But it iiiiiisssss cute when he says it.

And Claudia. I don't speak of her alot. But remember? She is the one I used to battle daily. Hourly even. She was part of my major snap. She is the most strong willed child. She is an artist--with the personality to match. She talks in her sleep. Well, argues really. She yells. She is... hmm. Very, Very cute. She IS the little girl with the curl in the middle of her forhead. The actually were decribing HER. She was a very high maintenance baby. She knew what she wanted and she wanted it right now, damnit! She walked at 10 months. By age 2 she would entertain waiters in family resturants by naming all her shapes. I'm not talking squares and circles people. I'm talking trapazoids. Paralletograms (her favorite), octogons, ovals. At 20 months she had over 200 words in her vocabulary. Believe me, once while waiting for Cliff to get fitted for a holter monitor (for his racing/irregular heartbeat)--I wrote every word she could say down (upstairs, downstairs, sweet potato, unusual, unaceptable...). She was almost 4 before she learned to go to sleep on her own. She still carries a "night-night" to school (and sleeps) with it. There is a WAR on it it is misplaced (omg--I've popped many a vicodin over not being able to find that freaking sqaure of cotton and satin).

She is a darling. She can charm you into buying whatever she wants at Wal-Mart. She has tried to steal from there too...but never anything for herself. A pair of capris for a friend. A birthday card for her brother 6 months in advance. A pair of panties for Calie.

And I told you she was an artist. She won an award at school today. "Super Artist". Here are two of my favorites. One is a card she made of a flower (watercolor paints). The other is 2 birds she drew with washable markers for Calie. And I have a picture she made of a horse that will knock your socks off. And a picture of me while pregnate with Caden--with a cute baby drawn inside of it. She is very artsy fartsy. I am one proud mama. I can't wait til she is grown--I can't wait to she what/who she becomes...

Today Was Surprisingly OK...

Moonpie was off work. We had only the boys at home--the girls were in school. Caden and I slept on the couch from about 10AM until Noon. ahhhhhh. Nothing like a 9 month old snuggled on your chest, drooling onto your shirt and smirking and giggling in his sleep.

Moonpie rented "The Fantastic Four" for Carson. Who watched about 10 minutes of it! Moonpie and Carson went to pick up the girls. I held Caden and read (*gasp* I READ) A Million Tiny Pieces (?) You know, that controversial book--An Oprah book. The one they are saying isn't a memoir, but a work of fiction? I mean, really who cares. HE wrote the book. It's HIS story. He was a major alcoholic and drug addict in rehab! Come on. If that isn't lichen to embellish or leave out bits or even make up some good stuff, I don't know what is. Who freaking cares? It is a goooood book. I like it. Anyways. Before my blood pressure gets outta control I leave that topic. hee hee.

Moonpie and I were going to take Calie out on Friday for her Birthday. But we were having a hard time finding someone to watch the (other) kids. I didn't want to ask my grandmother because...I just can't do that to someone who is 70+ years old. One or two is one thing. All three is punishment. I wanted to ask my Sister--but was reminded by Moonpie that she has her own kids to keep--and that it would be infringing on HER weekend time with her boys. OK. Sorry. So we decided to split it up. He is taking her to circuit City to get her mp3 player. And then out to eat. Tomorrow, I get to take her shopping for a few clothing items and out to eat! Calie is soooo excited. She gets her Daddy ALL to herself. And then she gets her Mommy all to herself. I want her to feel so special--because she is. Can't believe she is getting so old--15 is old. When you think that you brought this person into the world. That you nurtured her and disciplined her. You watered and weeded and fertilized this person into a gorgeous flower. That soon will need you less than you have ever wanted to be needed. I hope she has a wonderful time with Daddy tonight. I hope she never forgets how much we love her.

Caden has a well check up tomorrow. Shots. Ears checked. He is turning into a drama queen too. I bet there are lots of alligator tears tomorrow. And I'll bet I hold him all day. Sweetheart.

She Bangs, She Bangs...

Ok, I know I am not too fashion forward. I am VERY loooow maintenance. I make sure that Moonpie buys new scrubs when he wears the crotch out of his old ones (LOL). I make sure my kids are wearing pants that don't look like they came from Urkel's rag bag. I am always last on the list. But I am NOT fashion savy.

I came from the era that had me wearing wings for bangs. Like Farrah. Then my bangs were teased (Na Nana Na Na) to sky scraper proportions--the famous "Texas Big Hair". What I am trying to say is...I have had bangs my entire life. But I am told per Moonpie and Calie that bangs are OUT. That I am outta style. But I don't care. I hate my naked forehead. I literally feel NAKED with my forehead showing. I have tried to grow out my bangs. Really. But it doesn't work. I get frustrated fast. I don't know what to do with the hair in the "in between stage". I can't stand it in my eyes. I hate it pushed to the side. And forget about headbands. I look...Like a DORK! Clippys? no. no. not good.

Me and bangs are like me and blow jobs. I try about twice per year. But I am never able to follow thru. I get about half way there and quit. Then I vow to NEVER attempt it again. So, yesterday I chopped off my bangs again. Whew. Feels soooo much better. I can see. My forehead is clothed. I feel safe. And *I* like it. So there.

I promise to put a picture here of me and my bangs soon. But since *I* am the camera keeper--there aren't too many pictures of me. But I have over 1,000 on my computer of kids and dogs and horses and the such. So you will have to wait until I have an urge to apply make up. It will be soon I promise.

Raindrops On Roses...

It RAINED yesterday. I am talking allll day long. It was a dark, dreary, rainy day. The kind of day that depressed sloths, like myself, LOVE. I kept the drapes drawn. I wore my PJ's until 2PM. I had greasy hair pulled back into a mini ponytail--too cute!

The kids ran around making a huge mess of the living room and their bedroom. We watched TV all day. MTV stuff. Cartoons. Ate Cheetos. Then, my sister, brother-in-law and their 2 boys came over, how embarassing to get caught in your 'draws that late in the day (in the dark house). SO, after they left, I decided to take a shower. Shaved my legs too! FIXED my hair. I am talking there was a hair dryer, flat iron and hairspray was involved! I applied ZERO makeup tho. ugh. Makeup on the weekends at home should be outlawed ('course I don't like to wear it EVER--but I do own some). I put on some nice jeans instead of my sweats. Took out a lasagna I had made and froze 2 weeks ago--and straightened the house.

I almost looked like I had it GOING ON by the time Moonpie made it home at 7:30PM!

So, all in all it started out a dark day. But after I was shamed into getting it together--it was SUNSHINE SUNDAY!

PS: My beloved Sissy is bringing me a Gazelle (YOU CAN DO IT!) and a stair stepper soon. I just might use them too (out in the barn)! No promises tho--that way you and I both aren't disappointed.

My Stay In Hospital...

Here in E. Texas we usually say "I was in *the* hospital". But I have always loved the way the English say "in hospital". So, that is how I say it--with a Texan accent. Yehaw!

When my doctor (back in November) said "I think it's best if you go to the Behavior Health Clinic and stay for a few days. You can get treatment. They can help you." I almost passed out. He was talking "Funny Farm", "Nut House", "Psycho Ward". But his next words were scarier. They were said to Moonpie. "Take her right now. Right now. They are waiting for her. Don't go home and get clothes--you can get those later. Take her now." Holy Crap. The lookon Moonpie's face. I'll never forget it. His voice wavered when he told the doctor: "But she is breastfeeding. What do I do with the baby?" His advice? "You'll figure it out."

So Moonpie took me. I sat in the waiting room crying. Wanting to run. Wanting to go home and hide under a bed. But scared that they would come get me. Put me in a straight jacket and throw me in a padded room. So I cried. And waited. They took me in a little room and interviewed me. Asked me my history. Wanted to hear my suicide plan, in detail. Asked me about what medicines I had been taking. Trying to figure if I was addicted to Vicodin...I wasn't, tho I easily could have been, in time. This is where Moonpie had to leave me. He had to pick up the kids from school--go relieve my sister, who was watching the boys. And he had the task of telling everyone "she is crazy and I need HELP--get here now, before *I* have to take care of these kids by myself!!!!" Then a nurse came and got me. She took my blood pressure. Weighed me. Took my shoelaces from me---OMG. That made me bawl my eyes out. Then she took my picture(!?). I'm sure it was quite the glamour shot.

Then I was taken to the ward. I was told I would be on a "good ward"--whatever that means. I think now that it meant "people over there are crazy--but they aren't thowing poo or taking off their clothes yet". It was quiet on the ward. About 8 people were there then. Some in their rooms (soem crying in their beds). Some in the "day room" watching TV. A a couple on the (two) telephones. I was shown my room--which I shared. Two to every room when it's full. We weren't allowed any glass bottles--no makeup. Nothing with belts, ties. No food or drink in the rooms. I spent the first few hours on my bed crying. Waiting for Moonpie to come visit at 7PM (for an hour) and bring me clothes. I finally went into the dayroom at lunch time. I was told that until I saw the doctor (the next day, sometime) that I would be on "lockdown"--I have to eat all my meals on the ward and then I would be evaluated. So the rest of the group went to the cafe--walked in a single file line with a "tech" on gaurd--watching them, constantly counting them. Unlocking and locking doors for them as they went.

Later that evening a girl came up to me. Brandi. We talked briefly. She told me "the run down"--this wasn't her first (or second) rodeo. She had been diagnosed with bipolar (can't remember the version) and was chemically dependant--and very addicted to nicotine! No one was allowed to smoke--or drink caffine on the ward. You could drink cokes in the cafe--SMALL ones. But no smoking ever, never, ever. I don't smoke, so it didn't bother me at alllll. But it made the other natives restless! I was made aware that we would be "in classes" most of the day. Group therapy. Some classes were for depression/bipolar/scitzo and the other classes were for chemical dependancy/alchohol. I was in the crazy classes.

Moonpie came. Brought me PJ bottoms with a drawstring--couldn't have 'em. Brought me my makeup bag--couldn't have more than half of it due to glass bottles. And he brought me my breast pump--my boobs were about to explode. He had tried to feed the baby a bottle--but he was having a hard time. Caden wouldn't take it. My sister had to feed him with a medicine dropper. drip drip drip. That night they gave me an Ambien (sleeping pill). I was told they were powerful. But I laid on my plastic bed. On my flat plastic pillow. Covered up with my hospital smelling blanket...and thought "When is this thing going to---ZZZZZZZ". Best nights sleep EVER.

Over the next few days more people checked in. I became good friends with alot of the patients. There was George, who had tried to slit his wrists. He lived in another state...and he had to stay there for 4 days wearing blood stained jeans. There was Anthony. He was a prision guard (inhis uniform) who was depressed over his marriage breaking up and was having anger issues. He slept for the first 2 days. There was Cullen (my favorite). A 19 year old homosexual who was addicted to everything. Speed was his favorite tho. When he came down off his high we found that he is high on life all the time. He has a very UP personality. So funny. LOVE him. Wanted to slap mayo on his head and eat him up! There was Amelia (my roommate). Laura. Mona. Susan. Fanny. Miss Viv (who was the epitome of style and money--and a MAJOR vicodin addict). We all had our stories. Our problems. It was easy to talk to them--most of them KNEW what I meant. They had felt it. Lived it. Breathed it. It was in their souls too.

I was there for 4 nights, 5 days. I was put of 3 diff meds. Then weaned off one. I had therapy all day long. I had handouts. Notes. I had visitors every night--most there had no visitors AT ALL. I left on the condition that I go to out-patient there too. 5 hours per day. Monday thru Friday. I did that for a little over 2 weeks. Then I was put in 2 times a week 1-on-1. Then Once per week. I cried when I left in patient. I will never forget those I met there. My last day I made a plaque in "activities" (HAHA). It was a small wooden board. I glued beautifully colored tile stars all over it. Then wrote everyone's first name down that was on the ward. It is on my night stand. I will carry them in my heart always. I pray for them too. And I know they pray for me.

The Torture Of Having A Teenager...

Oh me. Oh my. Will it never end? Will *I* make it. FOUR times? Someone PLEASE tell me...boys are easier, right? Because I will be, ummm...(counting in my head and on my fingers...) 45/46 when my boys are teenagers. My heart and mind may not be able to hande all the stress. pouting. backtalking. door slamming. personality disorders...I mean...changes. And I'm only doing one daughter now. Still got one to go.

She made a video. With her friend. In which she cussed like a sailor. Dressed like a ho. And bad mouthed me. ME. Her MOMMY. Her once best friend. Her confidante. She called me a "fucking bitch". Said she couldn't wait til she turned 18 so she could leave and never some back. Said she hated her family. I was DEVESTATED.

Then I went to my therapy appointment. And was told (about 30+ times) "Developmentally Appropriate for her age". And that the video was her "diary" and that we (me and Moonpie) shouldn't have watched it. I felt like a fucking bitch.

We finally told Calie that we saw the video. And told her how much it hurt us to see it--and that we shouldn't have invaded her privacy. And that if she wanted respect and privacy she had to earn it. We are trying. But it is so hard. She is soooo hormonal. She sulks. She conives. She knows how to sweet tlk us and do extra chores to get us to give/tell her whatever. She wants a cell phone. And a car (she turns 15 this month) and Drivers ED and an iPod--not just any mp3 player but the iPod NANO. And new clothes. And we are POOR. About broke. Debit Consolidators told Moonpie that we spend more than we make now. And we hardly EVER "blow money up a hog's ass" (what? you've never heard that one? Must be my Texan upbringing).

But then she can be so sweet. Curled up in her Daddy's lap. Snuggling with Caden. Every now and then playing with Claudia (they are constantly arguing--and they are 10 years apart). Playing horsey with Carson--or dancing with him. Clearing the table without being asked (once every blue moon or so).

I can't wait til she is grown WAY up and is married and has a kid or 2. That will be soooo worth it all.

Daddy and Daughter Dance/Daddy and Son Hunt...

We got a notice in Claudia's backpack the other day. Feb 11th they are having a dance for the PreK and K classes. A "Dad and Daughter" and a "Mom and her Little Man" dance. Moonpie has to work that day (and night). Can't get off. So he took her on a "date" tonight. She looked so cute. New jeans. New shirt. Hair all pretty in a ponytail. They went to the movies and out to eat pizza. Then she begged that he take her to Wal Mart. They picked out some Easy Bake Oven stuff (that crap is $$). But I'll bet *I* have to "cook" with her. And clean up. And HE will get to eat it. Oh well. She was THRILLED to get him all to herself.

Next week Moonpie is taking Carson camping! CAMPING! He isn't 4 yet. In the WOODS. There are cyotes and wolves out there. And snakes. OH and they are going HUNTING (WITH GUNS!!!!!!)! To hunt squirrels (or "swirls" as Carson calls them). I have banned all dead animals from coming into my house--squirrels look like dead, skinned babies to me--I will NOT eat them. They are just rats with fluffy tails. Camping! Sleeping in a tent. Pooping in the woods. Peeing on trees. I'm sure he will LOVE it.

Lay Down And Be A Baby!

Caden will be 9 months on the 28th of this month! Caden is no longer Army crawling--he is all out crawling. But before he got his gut up off the floor...he was pulling to standing. And only holding on with one hand. and cruising along the couch. Pulling up on the wall. Crying if I walked into another room. Eating Cheerios. and Vanilla Wafers. Holding his tiny arms up to me (pick me uuuup). Crying if you take a toy (or piece of paper--or the phone--or TV remote--anything he has in his hands) away from him.

He is eating stage 3 foods. And some of ours. He is such a happy baby. He squeals at levels that require ear plugs to protect your eardrums. I think he has ANOTHER ear infection (this would be #4 since Nov 15th). He has no stanger anxiety yet. He grins and flirts with everyone. He pats my face when I hold him. He hugs my neck. He *gently* pulls my hair. He *not gently* pulls the puppys fur. Then laughs his head off. He never turns his head away when I offer medicine--but he always grimaces like I am posioning him afterwards.

He is so sweet. I'm glad I didn't follow thru on that awful plan I had... It would have been a crime to not be around to see him--and fro him not to grow up to this stage. I'm glad we are both still here.

Heard In Our Bathroom Today...

Claudia: Mom? Mom!

Me: What do you need Claudia?

C: I need a little help.

M: Are you through?

C: Not really. Some won't let go.

M: What!?

C: Please come here! Hurry!

I go into the bathroom and clean her (v v dirty) behind.

C: That last piece was just hanging on for dear life!

Well, ain't she the cutest thang?

Knock, Knock. Anyone Home?...

Sorry. I didn't drop off the face of the Earth... but I felt like it. If I had a dollar for every time I said to myself "Self! You need to blog!" I would be rich. Filthy rich. Like Bill Gates rich. Not that I haven't had time. I just haven't *made* time.

Still in therapy. Still taking the meds. Still having bad days. Today was one of those days. Still avoiding. Dropped out of MOPS. Just too hard. Mainly because my therapist appointments are on Thursday's (cause then I only have Caden)--and that is the same days as MOPS--but partly 'cause I don't wanna go.

Been having sex on a regular basis. Whoo Hooo. no, really. WHOO HOO!!!! But Moonpie really needs to get snipped and clipped. I am one of those girls who just LOVES condoms. I mean--they are lubricated (can only help), and they contain allll the gross messy mess. Therefore I am not laying in a wet spot--or getting out of bed after. hee hee. And he always brings me a glass of cold water and a warm washrag... The best thing is to pop that trazadone and get after it--then 30 minutes later you can go into your night night coma with a SMILE on your face. Moonpie, one the other hand, hates the condoms. But no condom--no cooter. No raincoat-no ride. No plastic-no p...well, you get the idea.

So, I am back. With lots to post about. Some is funny stuff--some is whiny. Some (I PROMISE) will have pictures.

Stay tuned. Here's the kids at Christmas (my mother-in-laws house)

Tweezers...Multi Use Tool...

Tweezers are incredible! I have used them for nasty eyebrows. For plucking sticker and slivers of wood from tiny feet. Moonpie has been know to use them to rip stray nose hairs(I know--Groooossss!). But today was the primo. Today I performed delicate surgery on Carson.

Have you ever heard some story about some kid that shoves a pea or button up their nose? And that sometimes a trip to the ER is required? Well, I have them allll beat. Today my 3 (almost 4) year old son, who is definitely in my top 5 favorite people, who is quite dramatic, came up to me and said "Momma. My butt hurts." Me, thinking constipation, says "Do you think you need to poop sweetie?" "No! There is something in there! See!?" He then drops his pants and bends over pulling his little cheeks apart to show me. Hmmm. What IS that? I DO see SOMETHING! I move in for a close up...He has put a BEAD! A square BEAD--like you find on a necklace--spelling out someone's NAME! INTO his BUTT! omg. omg. So I coax him to push it out. "Push it out Carson--like you have to poop." No Momma! It hurts! (*whimper whimper*)" ooooo mmmmmm gggggg.

So that is how I came to use tweezers to extract the letter "A" from his butt.

We followed up with a lesson in how very dirty with germs our behinds are. And that poop can come OUT of your behind--and even toots can--but absolutely NOTHING is to go UP the hiney!!! The lesson was actually AFTER a thorough hand washing--and tweezer disposal--we have a few more standing by for the next splinter or stray hair.

Busy Hands, Busy Minds...

I have been running nonstop. It seems the only way to keep the uglies away (the ugly thoughts, I mean). I have made 3 small quilts and one top. Still have 2 more to do. I made Carson one to take to Day School (2 days per week). It has Spiderman on it. I made a friends little girl one that has the Disney Princess' on it. I am making Claudia one that has makeup and flowers and striped on it. And making the same friends other girl one with Winnie the Pooh. OH! Got to make Caden's (John Deer) and Calies (flowers). I only learned to sew on a machine when Mimi was here. She bought me my own sewing machine! I really like it. All I can do right now is make quilts...But I'm having fun. I'll post Carson's later so you can see it.

Carson has been to Day School 2 times. The first day he spit, hit and pinched his teacher. The second day he misbehaved so much that he was in the office and the director called me...With hints of him being sent home if he didn't improve--Thank Gawd he did--improve I mean. Little hellion. Earlier today Claudia got in trouble (just a talking to--not me screaming) and Carson thought it was funny to pull down his underwears (that's what HE call 'em), shake his naked rear at her and say "Na-Na-Nana boo-boo".

Claudia wrote "SAMAKLOS" a letter. And also wrote "Im spejlos far mi famle" (translation: I am speechless for my family.) Afterwards she wanted to know the definition of speechless...Something she has NEVER been.

Calie has been grounded for going on 4 weeks--with 3 more to go. All about her grades people. Last six weeks she went from an A in Algebra to a SIXTY-FIVE on her progress report! All because she isn't turning in (or doing) her homework--and not studying for tests. This child is smart. She has never had below a B+ in Math--she has always been on the A-B Honor Roll. So she was grounded--then report cards came out and her Math was a 73...And she was very hateful, disrepectful (mad at us for grounding her)...So she was grounded until the NEXT progress reports came out...And NOW her Math grade is a SIXTY-THREE!! She has 3 weeks to show us she is serious about her grades. And her attitude has to show marked improvement too. She hides in her room alot. So Moonpie has put a limit on her closed door--she hates that. But threatened with the door being removed HAS cause her to spend a little more time with the family.

Caden had double ear infections, a cold, 2 teeth come thru and thrush in his diaper area AND in his mouth--all in 2 weeks. It was horrible. But now he is happy again. He slept 6 hours last night in his OWN bed!! And he is Army crawling and even getting up on his feet and hands. Butt in the air--toooo cute.

I have good moments and bad ones. I had my 1-on-1 therapy last week. It went OK. I cried. It was draining--but I felt better when I left. I'm not planning on suicide or taking Caden with me anymore. Moonpie hid all his Vicodin. I'm taking my own medicine--correctly. Going to start exercising next week (once I get some of these quilts done). Mimi is coming on Friday to stay with us while Moonpie goes deer hunting (eewww). She will be here for a few days. My sister and G-ma and Mimi call me every day. Sometimes twice per day. I wrote my real mother an email (did I already tell you this?) I'll maybe post it later. It felt good to say the things that I had thought about saying for YEARS. I haven't heard from her since--and that was around the 11th of Nov. And I'm not hurt or bothered by it.

Cliff and I are OK. He is stressed out about money stuff (our lack of it)...He's going to talk to someone about consolidation. Doc (Calie's horse) is for sale. The baby horse may be put up for sale too. And the horse trailer. We have got to get rid of the things that aren't necessary so that we can pay for the necessary stuff. Like Christmas (haha) and try to get the bills paid down. Our spending needs to be slimmer too (as do I).

Hope you all are OK. I appreciate ALL the posts to me and the emails. I haven't been on the computer much in the past few weeks. But when I do it is nice to see that people are worried/thinking about me. I almost feel liked! haha

Update On Me...

First of all I am better. I am not WELL. But I am making progress every day. I am learning to exchange negative thoughts for positive ones. Learning to accept compliments. Learning to set up boundaries. Learn that I am NOT Super Mommy/Wife/Friend--that no one is. Learning to lower my own standards--and my voice. Deep breathing. Positive self talk. Trying to think about my feelings BEFORE I show my ass (or bad behavior). Learning to communicate when I need help--or just to talk.

Tomorrow is my last day of intensive out patient therapy. I've had 56 hours of therapy so far in the outpatient hospital (not counting the therapy I received while in inpatient (tell you all about THAT later). After Thanksgiving I go to see an outside therapist--maybe only once per week!!

I am still depressed. Still have immense feelings of being unworthy. Of guilt. But no more thoughts of suicide--I've thought about tearing up (in my mind) my "plans"--but I haven't gotten that down yet. But I don't want to do it(suicide). I never want to feel that ill again. But I can tell I am on the road to recovery. I am sleeping better...Even slept SIX hours the other night!! yehaw!

My Mimi has been here since Nov 4th. Cooking for us. Picking the kids up from school. Cleaning some. I have enjoyed her company. I can't imagine this without her.

I've lost 6 pounds in three weeks. The meds make me not hungry. So I haven't eaten alot. But I am drinking Ensure or SlimFast--not just NOT eating anything.

I've emailed some of my new friends from inpatient. Our Group really bonded. As far as I know everyone is still doing good. Except for one elderly lady who is bipolar--she had to be readmitted the other day--I am sure she will be sent to the State Mental Hospital for long term. They were trying to get her in the last time but she was freaking out--but this last time might be involuntary. A few of us are meeting for lunch soon. It will be nice to see what everyone looks like when they have access to hair dryers and hairspray and makeup or normal clothes haha. The day I was admitted I was wearing a pair of Moonpies jeans and one of his shirts--now I have a new wardrobe, new hairdo and even a PURSE (that can not double as a diaper bag)! They might not recognize me!

It's 9:30PM now...I've got to get ready for bed, tomorrow is my day to get everyone ready for school.

PS: Mimi is calling a few daycares and churches in the area to see about getting Carson into a Mother's Day Out Program--she even offered to PAY for it! OMG.

I Cracked Like A BAD Easter Egg...

This will be short and sweet....

On Thursday Nov 3rd I LOST IT. I went to my Doctor appointment. Moonpie showed up. And my doctor, me and Moonpie decided (after the SCARY tale I told) that I needed to be admitted to the Behavior Health Center. I got ALOT of counseling, new meds (Effexor and Trazadone)...and the support of my new cuckoo friends.

I am still in counseling, but on an outpatient basis now. I go to Group sessions 5 times per week--for 5 hours per day. I AM getting well. I refuse to hide my illness anymore. I will quit trying to make everyone think I am OK if I am not.

I will let you all know how I am doing when I have time.

One Flew Over The Cuckoo Nest And Landed...

OMG! It's official (well, not REALLY). I am officially CRAZY. I just took every online test for depression and they all say the same thing "See a professional, Call 911 or go to the nearest ER." eeeek.

I called my GP today and scheduled an appointment--didn't tell Moonpie, just don't want to hear him tell me in so many words (or less) to "snap out of it". So, my sister will come watch the boys on Thursday. I made my appointment after watching court TV today (maybe it was a sign from GOD?--ummm...I'm joking here--sick sense of humor OK?) but the D. Laney case is being shown--she is the woman who killed 2 of her sons by bashing their heads in with a rock--and seriously injuring her 3rd son (who was 14 mo old at the time). It happened around here--in East Texas. I remember it well. And we used to treat the youngest at the doctors office where I worked (this was AFTER he was injured). I'm not saying that I would injure my kids--I've never felt like taking them--always just me--when I get that low. Which I am NOT that low right now--I just feel. Blah. Bad. Sad. Down. Unhappy. Tired. Lost. I feel like I am in slow motion. And when I *freak* out--it's like I can hear myself--and it disgust me--but I can't stop it. And I say to myself while it is happening: Who the hell IS this mad woman??!! What is her problem!? Get a grip BITCH!

But, anyway, watching her trial made me think about the state of MY mind. And how it needs help. And remember? That bottle of yellow pills is getting low. *This* doctor isn't who prescribed my meds. That was my OB back in 2002. While I was PG with Carson. Since then I have been on and then off and then on again and then OFF again. When we lived near Galveston I got a RX for the 50mg (BIG bottle) then almost right away I got put on the 100mg. So I had both bottles. I have pretty much been putting myself on them for a month or 2 then off for awhile. I guess I start feeling better then think "Ah ha! I am cured! I feel better! I can stop taking them now!" Obviously that isn't the right way to do it. Duh.

So, I get to go the whole route with Dr "Don't Know". Ought to make his day memorable. His demeanor reminds me of That Munster Guy. You know--the Frankenstein one? He's real tall and big. And he shakes hands like a wet noodle. But he's really nice. And he's a good listener. And he always makes me feel like he cares about me. He will either help me or say "Gawd, girl. You are f*d up! Get to the Psych Ward PRONTO!" Either way. I'm getting help soon.

Either that or I'm getting DRUNK!

Happy Birthday, Little Claudia....

Claudia turns 5 tomorrow. We had her party Saturday. My Little Pony cake. Ice cream. Rented a "jumping house"--Moonpie put it on the deck--it was HUGE. Her favorite gifts were a toy cell phone, a dress up outfit and some lip gloss. Oh, and new colors--64! Count!! With a sharpener!





We rented "Robot" on Pay Per View--and then recorded it, so we can watch it 5,000 times (in a row). Carson will be a robot for Halloween. Claudia will either be a cheerleader or a "princess" (she has both outfits). I made Calie a Tshirt, it says "30% rolling eyes. 30% back talk. 30% deep sighs. 10% door slams. = 100% Teenager." She is wearing it tonight--going as a Sullen Teenager. She wanted to go as a hooker and I said NO. And now it is raining. We need rain--but I hope it stops.

Can't believe Claudie Bean is turning 5. Now I gotta go bake some cupcakes to take to school tomorrow! But first, I'm gonna put a few pictures on a few of the older posts--go check 'em out!

The Big Blue Couch...

We had our session (counseling) on Friday. I was proud of myself, I only cried once. Here is the "cliff notes" version:

Moonpie admitted to being controlling and "picky" about the house. We talked for an hour and 30 minutes. Felt like 15 minutes. We each had to list 5 things the other did or didn't do that "bothered us".

HIS LIST: (things that *I* need to "work" on)

1. Take better care of myself (he's talking make up, better clothes, exercising, losing weight).

2. Control cussing (umm, yeah, I do. Like a sailor sometimes).

3. Clean house better (haha).

4. Make Calie do her chores (he says if I do this then I will have more "ME" time...Does he mean time to put on more makeup? Or exercise?)

5. Use my time more contructively (ditto the note on #4).


MY LIST: (things that *HE* needs to "work" on)

1. Undermining me with the kids/interrupting me while I discipline them.

2. Stop being so critical.

3. Lower his (very high) standards.

4. Involve me in financial matters (ie: spending, spending, spending without asking/talking/telling me).

5. Curb/control his hobbies and the time/money they require.

Our homework for the next 2 weeks is that I have to get 30 minutes of exercise per day. This is not for him but for ME. Dr Shrink (not her real name, obviously) said that I have low self esteem (duh) and that getting away from the house and recharging my batteries will help--and the weight loss and attention from the weight loss (from Moonpie) will just be an added benefit. His homework is to try not to be critical AT ALL. OH! And she said "no sex for 2 weeks" (hahahahaha--EASY!!!).

We left and hugged in the parking lot. I felt better already. It was hard to hear some of the things he said--and I'm sure he was shocked that I could actually talk (not scream) and I think he really listened. We are supposed to put our lists up where we can see them every day. Mine's hanging on the bathroom mirror. I have worn make up every day since. I walked 2.7 miles Saturday AM (omg). Then jumped in the jump house we rented for Claudia's birthday party. I thought my legs would fall off. I asked him Friday night "Do you think it [the counseling] will help?" and he said (in a joking voice--but COME ON!) "I think it's a waste of money." I looked at him in such a "you dic* head" way--he laughed and said "I'm just kidding!!" But it still hurt--I mean, if he said it there must be SOME tiny bit of truth, right? turd.

Sunday night I took Calie to the mall and bought her a shirt, a jacket and a little purse. Left the 2 kids with Moonpie and took Caden with us. When we got back a friend came over and I was cutting some birthday cake for them to take home (they weren't at the party the day before). Moonpie sees me and says "Are you eating cake!? Have you even had SUPPER yet!?" I thought I was going to blow a gasket. I said "WHY!? I am not eating cake. I am cutting it for them. But if I want cake for supper, that is what I will have." I was sooooooo irritated. There he was, trying to make me feel 4--again. Later he apologized--but geez!

He still hasn't hung his list up. It's in his wallet. This was his idea--he better put out some effort. He better watch it. I am liable to get skinny and in shape then leave his ass and make him pay me child support for 4 kids while I move to the beach, wear a bikini and work in a surf shop (no, I would NOT--well, maybe the get in shape part).

We are scheduled to go back in 2 weeks. I like the doc. I hope it works.

I'm Tired And I'm Lazy...

I can't seem to function. Well, I do. I function in a sneaky sorta way. I do the bare minimum to get thru the day. I get up. I get dressed. I get my kids up (always running late). I get them dressed...Mostly. I attempt to fix Claudia (the Bear)'s hair. I MAKE Carson put shoes on. Sometimes I change the baby *before* we take the girls to school. Then we come home. I nuke pancakes for Carson--or just give him cookies or cheetos. I lay on the couch/recliner and hold Caden. I watch Court TV or Headline News ALL DAY. I nuke soup you can drink right out of the can for lunch! Fix Carson a sandwich and more cheetos--he eats the cheese out of his sandwich and licks the mayo off the bread. I throw all the dirty/wet diaper into the trash (that have laid all over the floor, bundled up all day). Then we go get the girls.

And then, 1 hour before Moonpie comes home, we run around picking things up, putting clothes up, vacuuming, unloading the dishwasher, throwing together a dinner of some sorts. Spray Febreeze...Pour Pine Sol in the toilets...Turn on the dryer (again)... Sometimes it fools him into thinking I have done my "chores" right. And I tiptoe around. Waiting for him to say something, anything. Because *whatever* he says will piss me off. Sometimes I hear him and bitch at him in my head--other times I boil over and snap at him out loud, most attractively (not).

Then at bed time I can't fall asleep--and when I do, one of three kids will wake up and need attending. Feeding. Changing. Patted. A drink. Clean underwear and bed covers. Rocked. Changed again. Fed again. A dog will need me to open the door and scream (in a hushed voice) "Shut UP GUNNER!" Then I lay in bed and try to go back to sleep--only to be awakened twice more before "morning".

I need sleeping pills. And Valium. And a maid.

PS: Tomorrow we start counseling--partly glad, mostly sad.

See Saw...Up And Down...

Yesterday was a "down" day. The kids were awful. I was awful. They were monsters and it was mostly my fault. I was so tired. So sleepy. I don't know why I am so tired all the time. I was in a coma on the couch for most of the day. Carson got into a new tube of toothpaste and smeared it all over his legs and the bathroom floor--I SMELLED it all the way in the living room. Claudia was mean all day. Her new favorite thing to say to hurt my feelings? "I am leaving and getting a NEW Mommy. You are NOT my Mommy anymore!" Fifteen minutes later she will ask "Momma? Will you get me ***?" And I say "Go ask your NEW Mommy to help you--remember? I am not your Mommy anymore." I have no idea where she got this. Maybe the same place she got "I don't like you anymore. I don't love you." Carson says it too. WHERE did it come from? We have NEVER said those things to our kids--or to each other (not outloud anyway..tee hee). I did the bare minimum in the house. It was a beautiful day--yet I couldn't muster the energy to take the kids outside. I didn't even take a shower. ewwwww.

Today is better. Moonpie was extra nice last night. We even...ummm...you know. So I woke in a good mood. Fixed pancakes. Let the baby horse out to the pasture (pics coming soon, I promise) and cleaned the kitchen--I'm talking took EVERYTHING off the counters and bleached it down, scrubbed the sinks--so shiny now. Loaded the dishwasher and swept--I'll mop later. I've folded 2 loads of laundry and put *most* of it away. I fed Caden cereal and bananas. Washed Caden's sheets and blankets and his "floor blanket" too. And emptied the bathroom trash cans (except not Calie's) and the kitchen trash. It is 11AM now and I'm taking a little break. I text messaged Moonpie..."I luv you stud"--no reply yet.

Have a busy week coming up. Claudia has Book Fair this week at school. And a "Say No To Drugs" parade on Wednesday. Mops is Thursday and so is Caden's 6 mo appointment (which I will reschedule for NEXT week). Saturday will be Claudia's 5 year Birthday party. And the new W*lM*art SuperDuperstore opens!!

I'm almost out of Zoloft--maybe 5 days worth left...OMG. I have put off calling the doc. Mainly because I'm a big fat chicken--and because...well, since we are going to see the counselor on Friday (oh yeah--one more thing to do next week!!). I want to talk to her about it. I take 100mg a day--and I really can't feel like it's helping much anymore. I still have tummy rumbling anxiety. Major mood swings. Suicide thoughts/day dreams.

Ah, gotta go--kids are having a wrestling match on my bed--and someone is about to get a spanking...