If anyone is planning on having two kids really close together with a healthy dose of postpartum anxiety and depression (and really, who doesn’t have this dream), I would highly recommend first securing my mother-in-law. I could not have gotten through this without her. I just have to say that. I will elaborate in a longer post later.

My happy pills came in the mail today. They cost $2.50 per pill! I took one with dinner. Maybe things seem louder again…maybe my ears are ringing a bit… maybe I’m a big huge hypochondriac.


Today, I took my daughter to play with a little girl who is 2.5 years old. While we were there, the little girl shat herself and just kept playing as if nothing had happened. Her mom then held her down on the floor and actually wiped all of the poo off her bum and legs with a baby wipe. And the stench… it was so gross. This was definitely not baby poop. Then the mom told the little girl that she gets no m&ms for pooping in her diaper! What is with the completely illogical bribery? And what is with kids who can count m&ms but don’t notice when they poop! stinky poo

My daughter knows when she poops. My daughter is toilet trained. My daughter hasn’t poo’d in a diaper since her first birthday. My daughter wakes up at night and tells me when she has to pee. Here’s the part of the blog where I get all high and mighty- because I can.

But between giving me jealous glares through your computer screen and deciding to stop reading my blog because I am making you feel bad, consider coming to terms with the acceptance that I am sometimes a better mother than you. But remember that, as even superman has his kryptonite, I am dependent on an inordinate amount of chocolate or prescription medication to get through most days and to be honest, (and why not be honest) I need to phone my husband before he leaves work every day to let him know if he should have some scotch expect to find me crying in the closet when he gets home.

Sometimes people would tease me about putting my one year old on the toilet. But now I just feel bad for them as they roll up their sleeves to deal with their 40 pound toddler’s poo- every day! I love that my daughter is aware of her body, respects her body and appreciates her own cleanliness. These are qualities that we should all teach our children so that they are still prominent in our society in 20 years. She is also practicing self-awareness which extends to noticing when her hands are dirty before she sucks her thumb and drying off her thumb on my shirt before she touches something. (So, she sucks her thumb…at least she doesn’t crap her pants!)

This post would not be complete without a shout out to my beloved mother-in-law, the original Potty Whisperer.

Now, to serve me right for bragging, Soni will probably have an accident tonight and I will wake up in the middle of the night in a puddle of asparagus smelling pee…

Waiting for my Happy Pills

Anxiety really sucks. I’ve basically been walking around all day having a non-stop anxiety attack. I feel like I’m choking on every breath I take. I just want to close my eyes, cover my ears and curl up in the corner. I hate that I have to take care of my kids when I feel like this. But I feel like this so fucking often that I don’t think I’d technically be their primary caregiver if I sent them to Grandma’s every time I felt like this.

They say that anxiety is the over-activation of your ‘fight or flight’ system which is useful if a tiger is chasing you. But really, I’m just standing in my kitchen and there’s a dirty bottle in the sink that needs to be washed… some tiger.

Now that I’m finally aware that my brain is actually broken and I’m not pregnant, I decided to start taking antidepressants. I started taking an introductory dose of Zoloft in early March. The first week was amazing- I felt like myself again (which was especially nice because after the last 2 years, I really wasn`t sure there was a `me` under all that depression and freakiness).happy pills

After a week of feeling good at the introductory dose, I doubled my dose (probably not the best idea) and that`s sorta when my head hit the floor. Not only was I dizzy, nauseous, exhausted and foggier than when I was depressed, my ears wouldn`t stop ringing, and sometimes the room actually spun around me and also there were some unicorns dancing and possibly some kaleidascope colors involved… maybe fun when you are staff at day camp, not so fun when you are taking care of your own babies.

The psychiatrist said that the ear ringing was extremely rare (wohoo! I`m unique!) and a sign of neurological damage (shit!) and I had to stop taking the Zoloft 😦

I`m pretty sure the antidepressants made a big difference. Here`s how I can tell, two weeks ago, when I was still on the Zoloft, I drove home alone late one night with both kids. It was one of those horrible drives where everyone needed to sleep and the baby was screaming and it sucked. I got stressed, but I didn’t cry. Fast forward to the same scenario tonight- minus the baby crying and also minus the Zoloft…. Guess who cried on the drive home… me. BFS! (that stands for Big Fucking Surprise!) (I decided that it’s my blog, I can make up acronyms.) PTIYPASI! (that stands for Put That In Your Pipe And Suck It!)

So now I`m just biding my time and eating a fuck load of chocolate (and licking some salt out of the palm of my hand…) until my new micro dose of `happy pills`arrive from the online pharmacy in the mail (weird.). Should be in the next two or three days. Problem is, that could be fucking forever to me- I`m depressed- remember? I’m the one who thought it was comforting that Janis Joplin said “Tomorrow never happens, man, it’s all the same fucking day.”

Time is Passing

I can’t believe Crosby is only 16 weeks old! He is such a real part of our family and my life. I can’t even really remember life before him. Well, I can.. but I think he was still there. I was recently watching a video I took when Soni was a baby and I thought, “Who was watching Crosby while I was taking care of that baby?”

Aren’t new moms retarded? Maybe it’s just me. Me, and my friend who waits all week for our Thursday date, doesn’t show up, and then calls me Friday morning to see where I am.  Me, her, and my friend who tried to unlock the front door of her house by pressing ‘unlock’ on her car key. At least I have lots of well matched friends…

Which brings me to another topic on the minds of all of my like-minded friends…poop. When I’m not cleaning everybody else’s poop, I try to find some time each week, (or when urgent) to deal with my own poop. But good news! – Crosby is finally strong enough to sit in the bumbo seat! Get it? Now I can poop without him on my lap- he can be on the floor in front of me in the bumbo seat. And my daughter can sit beside him on the bathmat watching Dora the Explorer on Netflix on my iPhone. I’ll tell them about this when they are older and wondering what we did at home all day when I was on maternity leave.

monkey on toilet