Living in the Light

Rich and I had a fight not long after Ethan was born. We had both been sick – him first and then me. I got really sick. And I got pink eye. Twice. And, as is the way with many breastfeeding moms, I was up at night while Rich slept. And, as is the way with many moms who are up in the night while their partners sleep, I was cranky about it because being up so much made it hard to get better. And that’s what caused the fight.

I won’t get into all the picky details, but it was about sleep – the too-little of it I was getting, and my perception that he wasn’t helping me out as much as he could have. And then he pointed out that when he was at home and I was working when Connor was little he never got a sick day either.

“You didn’t ask for help!” I countered.

“I did,” he replied, much more calmly than was probably warranted.

long shadow in the sunlightThe thing is, I have no recollection of that. I don’t recall him being sick and me going off to work leaving him to fend for himself (and the energetic two-year-old).

I don’t recall a lot of things from that time.

This is one of the things about postpartum depression that — in my experience, anyway — is so hard to deal with. It’s like living in a fog, except that fog leaves those weeks or months completely socked in so that there’s never a clear picture of them, even afterwards. My particular fog was built from my anger — my rage — as if spewed forth from a fog machine I couldn’t turn off.

But it’s not like I don’t remember anything from that timeframe. Just certain things. Often big things. It’s come up in conversation a few times, where someone will be recalling something, and every single time I’ll think, “I have absolutely no recollection of that.” It just doesn’t exist as a page in my memory book. Whether torn out or never properly recorded I don’t know. It’s just not there.

I’m not really sure the point of telling you this, except to say that this time is different.

Now, I know when I’m being a bitch. I know when I’m picking a fight (and sometimes I do it anyway). I know when I’m not doing what I need to do for myself.

It doesn’t always make it easier to do what I need to do, but at least this time I’m living in the light.

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Speaking of happy things, I’ve heard about three recently that are making the world a better place and I’d like to share them with you:

For the first time, there’s a product dedicated to helping fight postpartum depression. Jammies are the creation of Hélène Laure, a fashion designer whose clothing designs for women have been sold to such specialty stores as Henri Bendel, Bloomingdales, Bergdorf Goodman and Saks Fifth Avenue. Helene wanted to create a new business that gives back, so she designed Jammies with the intention of helping to benefit moms with postpartum depression. For each Jammies Jar sold, Helene’s company, Two Mice, A Bear and A Bunny LLC, will donate 10% of the profit to Postpartum Progress, the national nonprofit that raises awareness of postpartum depression and promotes better support and services for pregnant and new mothers with mental illness.

150x150JammiesadThese onesies are so cute (perfect for gifts). Here’s the description:

“100% pure cotton onesies for boys and girls made from a soft and breezy light gauge cotton Jersey that are are uniquely packaged in a sweet little jam jar. The design is reminiscent of the all-American long john, with its henley tab closing and ribbed cuffs, and a flirty ruffle added to the girls’ style. Mr. Bear, Lily (the bunny) and Cinnamon & Ginger (the identical mouse twins) are the delightfully hand-drawn characters featured on Jammies onesies.”

You can see read more about them (and order them) on the Jammies page on Postpartum Progress.

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peacelove-teePeaceLove is working to combat the stigma against mental illness. One of the biggest ways they’re helping is through their giveback program: for each PeaceLove tee purchased, they give away a free expressive arts class to a child affected by mental illness. They just launched a tee campaign with the hopes of giving away 100 free expressive art classes (and they’re really close!).

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February 27 is Pink Shirt Day, an anti-bullying campaign supporting Boys and Girls Clubs/Big Brothers Big Sisters. If you’re in Calgary, you can get an official pink shirt at any London Drugs. (And if you’re not, wear a pink shirt anyway.)

Sears Launches Carter’s & OshKosh

The other day a big box arrived at our door. The dog barked, Connor went wild with excitement, and I anxiously watched the monitor to see if the commotion would wake Ethan up. (It didn’t. Love that kid.) Connor always wants to open packages right away (who doesn’t?) but especially this one, because he was convinced it was full of LEGO. A gigantic box full of LEGO. And he was not dissuaded by the fact that it didn’t rattle when we shook it.

I knew it wasn’t LEGO, but I was actually more excited about what was inside. It was full of clothes. And not for me. [Read more…]

Explore: Life in Pictures, Vol. 2

In volume one of this series sharing pictures of stuff I’m doing in pursuit of my one word for this year, I gave you an update on the things we’d been doing and places I’ve explored just for the joy of it. This one is different. This is the Connor edition.

When I introduced my word I mentioned that it wasn’t just about going places, though certainly that’s part of why I chose the word “explore.” It was also about exploring other things, and one of those things is my relationship with Connor.

I’ve mentioned before that I struggle with him a bit, and I think it’s because in some ways we’re so alike while in others we’re so different. He pushes my buttons. Sometimes it’s because of who he is – he’s high energy, and he’s four. Frustration comes easily to me when I’m tired, which I am most of the time these days. And I tip into sensory overload really fast, and he seems to like to exploit that.

But a lot of the time it’s because he doesn’t get what he needs from me. So I’m trying to fix that.

I went to his preschool last week when he was special helper, and got to see him doing all the special-helper jobs and doing show-and-share with his class. He was so cute sitting in the special helper chair showing his LEGO dinosaur and answering his classmates’ questions, and in that space and time I was a mom with a preschooler talking about something he loves. It was a good reminder.

special helper at preschool

Connor still loves his baby brother. He loves to play with him and hold him and talk to him. His generous nature prevents him from lashing out because the baby gets more of my attention than he does these days. I’ve been encouraging him to help with Ethan and getting down on the floor with them and trying to remember that Connor was my baby at one time too.

brother with baby on the floor

I’ve been trying hard to join him when he plays LEGO, though it’s not my strong suit. But what I am really good at is appreciating the stuff he builds (because, seriously, he does amazing stuff) and taking pictures of him with his creations (even when he has a dopey smile and needs his hair cut).

boy with LEGO creation

And we’ve been doing things. Going to the library and then reading the books.

reading with preschooler

Today I was starting to do a Jillian Michaels’ yoga meltdown workout while he was supposed to be in quiet time. He quietly opened the door and came in with his LEGO, his drink and his snack, and said he was lonely in quiet time. Normally I would have shooed him out, but instead I thought, “Why not?” I asked him if he wanted to do yoga with me and he gamely joined in, standing in a small spot next to me. So I opened up my space and my heart and moved over to give him his own yoga mat right next to me. As I moved I saw him watching me and then copying my moves.

Like mother, like son.

It’s been good.
GFunkified

Essence of Now

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I’ve got a new post at Huffington Post that shares a little bit more about our move last year. Would love it if you would come and read!

A Valentine for Ethan

Dear Ethan,with-mom-4-months

I held you close tonight after feeding you, your head resting on my shoulder as you slept. You snored, as you often do when you settle back into sleep, and it’s in these night moments that I’m aware of how short a time you’ll be this small.

When you wake in the wee hours of the morning, or when day breaks and I peel myself from the bed, I wonder why it is that babies don’t sleep as much as their parents would like. But during that first wake-up, often before I’ve gone to sleep and when it’s quiet and dark and still, I cherish the moments I get to spend with your small, sleepy form.

Warm sometimes and cool others, your cheek is soft against mine as you lean against me while I try to coax a late-night burp. You tuck into me, your head to my neck, and I feel your soft breath. Your head smells like apricot baby oil and I inhale deeply.

I don’t want to put you down, in those moments when you once again feel part of me, but of course I must. You melt onto my shoulder, but only for a time, and then you need to be left to sleep in your bed.

So instead I lie and listen to the sounds of you. The snores and the sighs and the soft breathing.

And I breathe with you, because whether you are physically with me or not you are part of me and always will be.

Sleep, my babe, and I will see you when next you wake.

Love,
Mama

 

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I was going to repost my valentine to Rich and Connor this year and then I realized that Ethan wasn’t in it. I thought about doing a second volume to incorporate him, but then when I was putting him to bed last night this appeared.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

The Love App

Waaaay back when the iPhone first came out I remember telling Rich that I couldn’t see why anyone would want one. All those functions and silly things? Messy! I liked my straightforward little cell phone.

Yeah, clearly if there were an app for eating one’s words I’d have had to download it onto my precious iPhone.

I finally got an iPhone just over a year ago when I quit my job before we moved and had to (got to?) turn in my work BlackBerry. (I wasn’t sorry to see it go.) One of the things I love most about having an iPhone is how much Rich and I text each other. He often sends me pictures if he’s out with one of the boys – I have pictures of Connor sleeping in odd places, in front of Christmas displays, at the dentist, you name it. And Rich, in turn, has received lots of texts from me with pictures of Ethan sleeping. (What? He’s cute when he sleeps.)  [Read more…]