More Than The Baby Blues: Overcoming Postpartum Depression

As a survivor of severe postpartum depression [PPD], I like to bring the topic out of the shadows and help women feel comfortable discussing this uncomfortable topic.

I mean, who wants to voluntarily admit that they aren’t thrilled to be a mom?? Who wants to admit that they dream of going back to work every day?? And who wants to admit that they’ve thought about harming themselves or their baby??

Nobody.

Nobody is comfortable admitting any of this. Society tells us that new motherhood is supposed to be the happiest time of our lives, with a cute bouncing baby who cuddles and coos. So admitting that we actually aren’t having such a blissful reality, that in fact it’s been quite the opposite, is a scary conversation to begin even with friends and family.

The fear of being judged.

The fear of having your baby taken away.

The fear of looking like a bad mother.

These fears hinder our ability to reach out for help. Luckily, there are many resources on the Internet that help women begin the process of coming out of the shadows and feeling comfortable admitting that, like I had to admit to myself here, everything is really not okay.

So, as part of the 10 Things of Thankful Weekend Blog Hop, I am sharing these 10 great resources that I’m thankful for. I hope these will help any woman who finds herself suffering from a little more than the Baby Blues.

1. This great video, with a humorous twist, from a PPD sufferer:

2. A weekly phone chat with PPD sufferers and experts:

3. Great Informative Website About PPD:

4. Jenny’s Light Is One Of My Favorites. It Is An Organization Started By A Husband After His Wife Suffered From PPD & Took Her Life & The Life Of Their Infant Son:

5. Alanis Morissette Tells Her Story About Dealing With PPD:

6. A Website Full of PPD Resources, Survivor Stories, & Encouragement:

7. Quick Questionnaire To See If You Are Suffering From PPD:

8. One Woman’s Personal Blog About Her PPD Suffering & Survival:

9.  Jammies For A Cause – Proceeds SupportPPD Research & Education: 

10.  WONDERFUL & HILARIOUS  book by a PPD Survivor & Mommy Blogger @ http://www.dooce.com:

If someone you love is struggling with the baby blues or possibly postpartum depression, please share this list with her. If you are suffering from postpartum depression, SPEAK UP and seek help. This isn’t something you can power through on your own. There’s no shame in speaking up for yourself and your baby.

The Marathon of Motherhood

As I sat at the table with my father, my eyes glazed over and staring straight ahead at nothing in particular, he questions me, “Tired?” Ha. Tired is an understatement. I’m beyond tired. I’m at ‘cannot form a coherent thought’ level of exhaustion. I half grunted/half laughed and nodded, never breaking my stare with the unknown blurry object I had my eyes locked on across the kitchen. You know that stare, the one where tunnel vision has you fixated on a random object in the distance, and it feels as if your eyes are locked in place? I find myself frozen in that stare a lot lately.

Needless to say, I’ve got a lot going on. If you haven’t been around Rocks, No Salt Mommy for the past month, scroll down, look to your right and click on the “Moving” category. You’ll get a bit of a recap of the ridiculousness that is my life this summer. And now we’re adding a move into a 2 bedroom apartment with two small kids for a month into the mix of it all! Ha! That’s a whole new post to come!

I’m not unique for having my plate full. I’m not different because I take on more each day than can feasibly be completed in 24 hours. Almost every mom is in my shoes. This is an exhausting gig – the whole motherhood thing. I can only speak from the angle of a mom with toddlers, but I’m sure the exhaustion doesn’t go away as the kids get into their tween and teen years. It obviously changes because there are no longer infants to bounce and 3-year-olds jumping on your face at 6am. But I can’t imagine that it goes away. It just morphs into some new kind of exhaustion that I haven’t even encountered yet. Probably something involving teenage drama, dating, driving, smoking/sex/alcohol, football games, baseball games, dance recitals, cheer try-outs, SATs, college applications, and lions and tigers, and bears, oh my! I’m even more exhausted thinking about how exhausted I’ll be in 10 years!

But back to tonight’s zombie-like conversation with my dad, the psychiatrist who is always ready with a textbook analysis of the world and life. His advice and commentary are usually worthwhile to absorb and dwell on. His life tips and tricks have steered me in the right direction many a time over my 30 years.

So tonight, as I sat unable to lift a finger and finally resting my head on my hands, he said 3 things that stuck with me:

• Being a mommy makes every day a marathon. We wake up at the sound of a gun (or a crying baby/jumping toddler/yelling teenager), and we’re in high gear every moment until we lay our heads back down that night. Even the moments that look like resting, such as going pee, usually are accompanied by a young child throwing shampoo bottles into the bathtub beside us, or if we’re lucky enough to pee in private, our thoughts are racing about dinner, laundry, activities, etc. It’s non-stop all day. So, my father noted, even though I love being a mom and I love what I do all day, by the time I get to the end of the race (aka my bedtime), I just want to crawl across the finish line and lay flat on the pavement in a pile of exhaustion. I’m inclined to agree with this metaphor – especially the pile of exhaustion and not peeing alone parts.

• Positive and negative stress have the same effect on the body. I often defend my overflowing plate of commitments with the excuse of loving everything I do and not wanting to turn anything down that makes me happy or cancel anything that is good for my kids. My dad emphasizes that it doesn’t matter if I love what I’m doing or hate every moment. Stress is stress is stress. When it comes to my body’s physiological response to stress, good stress = bad stress. So I’m equally exhausted after throwing my son’s birthday party and having an argument with my builder about ripping the fireplace out and replacing it with one that doesn’t look like my toddler made it out of tinker toys. I guess my dad’s right. My pillow felt equally comfy and welcoming at the end of both of those long days.

• Listen to your body and know when to give it a rest. You think the fact that I slept for 7 hours during the day on Saturday while my mom played with my kids is any indication that my body is rebelling?? I guess I hear it loud and clear. I need some sleep. Staying up until 3am just to complete the day’s to-do list is not a sustainable lifestyle. But, that’s what we do as moms, right? We just do what has to be done, without real thought about the consequences to ourselves.

So here’s to us mommies – the runners of the daily marathon, the women piled in the heap at the finish line. There is no real way to slow it all down or even pause it for a week. So we push onward. We wake up with the wailing, taxi the teens, and Band-Aid the boo boos because we’re moms. And that’s what we do.

But, I do think I’ll crawl into bed early tonight because this runner needs to recharge before tomorrow’s big race.

10 Parenting Rules That Were Made To Be Broken

I’m a stickler for rules. I might drive 5 mph over the speed limit. I never had a fake ID in college. I never skipped class – except the day we invaded Iraq in 2003 and I stayed home to watch the invasion on our tube television with rabbit ears.

I just feel like there’s a sense of order when rules are followed. I like the structure it creates. As a mom, this usually is a good thing and my kids benefit from the routine and standards of our life. But over the past few years, I have developed a list of rules that I allow myself to break sometimes in the name of making memories, having fun, or simply keeping my sanity.

In keeping with the rules of to the Ten Things of Thankful blog hop (I’ll follow these I guess!), here’s my list of 10 rules I’m thankful I’ve learned to break:

• Rule #1: Bedtime is always serious and quiet. Breaking this rule for an impromptu tickle-fest or pillow fight every once in a while makes for lots of giggles and a great way to end a stressful day with little munchkins.
• Rule #2: Polish the sink every night. I never really polish the sink, although that is the actual rule. This was given to me as advice on how to keep kitchen clutter to a minimum. The goal is to make sure you can see the bottom of your sink every night before bed. Some days I just rebel and leave the sippy cups, bottles, and dinner dishes piled up for tomorrow.
• Rule #3: Everyone’s clothes must be perfect before leaving the house. When my daughter was little, I labored over matching the right bow, dress, and shoes before we could run to the grocery store – and she was 6 months old! Now, unless we’re headed somewhere important afterward, I’ll allow the tutu and t-shirt for her and the Target dinosaur onesie for my son to join us at the grocery store. It’s just easier some days.
• Rule #4: A healthy dinner must be cooked every night. HA! Yeah right people. Most nights my hubby isn’t home for dinner and my kids eat chicken nuggets, carrot sticks, and Craisins while I eat my perfectly-portioned Weight Watchers meal. I guess it could be worse, huh??
• Rule #5: We always wear our shoes outside. While I understand the safety issue here, there’s just something to be said for walking in the grass barefoot with your kids. Even playing in the sandbox barefoot feels fun on your toes and makes for good memories.
• Rule #6: Bathe your child every day. Nope. Just not going to happen every day. My kids often go to bed dirty, and they’re just fine. Some nights I don’t have it in me to do the whole routine. I’m honest. And if you are too, you probably skip bath time a couple nights a week, too.
• Rule #7: Kids must have a set bedtime every night. I agree with this most of the time, but our lifestyle doesn’t always accommodate our kids putting their heads on their pillows each night at the same time. My husband works late hours sometimes and I’ve started letting our kids stay up to see him when he gets home – like 9pm, not midnight! This puts a smile on everyone’s face and is always worth the extra hassle of sleepy children the next day.
• Rule #8: Don’t let the kids watch much TV. Well, this rule must have been written by one saint of a mother because I cannot imagine my day with 2 small children and no Nick Jr! I have laundry to do, dishes to wash, and hell – blogs to write. So, Dora must babysit for an hour or so each day. And I must admit that Team Umizoomi has done wonders for my daughter’s preschool math skills!
• Rule #9: Only play classical music for small children. I’ve been told this my whole life. Classical is best for developing brains. But classical isn’t much fun and classical isn’t the best for impromptu dance parties in the kitchen. So I play my ipod playlist and we dance to the Black Eyed Peas. And I rock my babies to Cat Stevens. And we drive around listening to LMFAO (ha! don’t tell my grandmother!). And my daughter laughs and laughs and dances and dances. I love these moments and I never regret breaking this rule.
• Rule #10: Sleep when the children sleep. While this seems like a great rule on the surface, I’ve found that the only alone time I get is when the munchkins are sleeping. If I want to keep my sanity, keep up with my hobbies, or watch my guilty pleasure TV shows, it must be done while they’re sleeping. This often means late nights of sewing, writing, or Mad Men, but I feel that it’s a great trade-off that allows me to maintain a sense of myself outside of my mommy identity.

None of these rules are life-altering or will change the course of my children’s lives if they’re broken. But they do often change the course of an individual day for the better. And on a day of tears, boo boos, time-outs, and sibling fights, an LMFAO dance party to Sexy and I Know It that brings smiles and laughter is definitely worth breaking the rules for. (don’t judge!)

See what these other writers are thankful for in this weekend blog hop:

Calming the Crazy

We’re only 43 minutes into the day, and my son has already thrown sausage all over the floor, flailed himself onto hard tile in a massive tantrum, and hurled a cup of orange juice across the kitchen. So, this post is just a classified post seeking out a babysitter, or better yet a temporary mom so this one can go sip a margarita and lay by the beach for a couple of days.

No, not really. This post is actually my attempt to calm the crazy. I know my children feed off of my energy, be it anxious or relaxed, so I’m making an attempt to turn this day around and have a peaceful, easy-going day.

What better way to do this than to start with the 10 Things of Thankful Blog Hop?? So as my son runs around screaming, I’m reminding myself that I really do love being a mom and here’s why:

1. They Were Precious As Newborns

2. They Are Best Buddies

3. They Are Advenutrous

4. They Are Great Cuddlers

5. They Are Friendly

6. They Are Playful

7. They Are Sweet 

8.  They are Hilarious

9. Very Hilarious

10. They Are The Lights of My Life

So now I will clean up the sausage, the orange juice, the dirty diaper, and call off the babysitter because even just this little bit of positive thinking has put me in a happier, more relaxed mood.

Now, to just get through the day in this mood without the help of a huge margarita…now that might just not be possible.

Check out some other bloggers attempting to have a positive day at the 10 Things of Thankful Blog Hop

How Not To Ruin Your Child’s Self-Esteem

During a guilt-induced moment a few months ago, I made a late-night, glazy-eyed decision and subscribed to the daily newsletter from AhaParenting.com. I think I had hopes of getting great parenting tips and advice – practical things that I could embrace on a daily basis. But in reality, I rarely find time to actually do more than glance over this email and maybe gleam a bit of motivation from a quick tip or italicized quote.

This week was an exception and I read the entire email…maybe because the first paragraph sucked me in with 4 little words that have a big meaning, “You Drive Me Crazy!” These are 4 words that I say more often than I’d like to admit. They are my go-to words when my 3 year-old daughter is hassling me to change clothes for the 5th time, incessantly whining about not liking a food she just ate yesterday, or begging me to turn on Madagascar/Rio/Peter Pan.

According to the AhaParenting newsletter, I’m chipping away my child’s self-esteem every time I utter my go-to phrase. And yes, with the hindsight of a quiet moment, I can admit that this is not the best choice of words for my young child.

Dr. Laura Markham of AhaParenting.com is a fabulous writer and closed her email eloquently with this simple phrase, “Your child believes everything you say.  And acts on it. Enough said.”

Being raised by a Freudian psychiatrist, I have this deep-seeded fear that I’m ruining my kid’s super-ego, the part of herself that aims to please and strives for perfection.

So I need to make a concerted effort to build her up instead of tear her down. Dr. Markham’s tips for doing that seem soooo obvious, such as “Give your child as much support as necessary to be successful.”  But somehow in the heat of the moment, my mind goes to “You’re Driving Me Crazy” as opposed to “I know you love to change your clothes a lot and you always look very pretty, but Mommy would like you to keep on this outfit so we don’t have a lot of extra dirty laundry.”

There are no take-backs in life. Once something is said, it can’t be deleted from a child’s memory. But I can pledge to be more positive from now on. Dr. Markham reminds us, “Unfortunately, you can’t “un-say” something. But with a little forethought, you can use this tendency to help your child aspire to be her best self, and to feel better about who she is.”

I would never want my daughter to not feel good about who she is simply because I stayed up to late watching Leno and have very little patience today, or because I’m sick of watching a giraffe jump around with a rainbow wig on his head singing “Polka Dot Circus, Polka Dot Circus.”

I’m trained in Love & Logic parenting techniques. I have a Montessori background and I was raised by a psychiatrist and a child psychologist. If anybody could have a handle on the way to build up a child’s self-esteem, it seems like I would be a likely candidate.

I think, deep down, I knew that I should work on taking that phrase out of my vocabulary. I mean, I feel a twinge of guilt every time it comes out of my mouth. I guess it just took an email, with it spelled out in black and white to force me to admit it out loud…to the world…on my blog…for all you readers.

We all have those weak moments as parents, don’t we? When we don’t want to read the same book for the 10th time or push our kid in the swing for 5 more minutes. At least I do. What are your weak moments as a parent? Please tell me you have them, too.

To read Dr. Markham’s email in its entirety, click here http://www.ahaparenting.com/_blog/parenting_blog

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The Day I Lost My Pride In The Walmart Parking Lot

My car is always trashed. As my father likes to point out, it’s less car and more dumpster on wheels. On any given day, I have a six-pack’s worth of empty 20oz Coke Zero bottles, two sippy cups, and – let’s be honest- a wet diaper rolling around the floorboard. I never wanted to be that mom. The mom with the minivan with fruit snacks between the seats and the stench of old french fries. And while I don’t drive a minivan, and my kids don’t eat fries, I do have a messy mom car – SUV to be exact.

This is why on that fateful day in the Walmart parking lot, I was not a bit surprised when, while loading my bags, a random piece of paper flew out of my open door and took off with the breeze. Ok, maybe it wasn’t that picturesque. I mean this was no Forest Gump drifting feather scene. But as this yellow piece of paper rolled like a tumbleweed across the parking space, I suddenly realized what it was. In a full panic mode, I sprinted after the wrinkled carbon copy sheet! I knew exactly what that paper was. And my address was on it. And my private bedroom secrets were on it. My name, my address, and my sex toy order from the weekend’s girls night Slumber Party (the Pampered Chef of sex toys). Oh my. I was so embarrassed. I gave up hope as I watched the paper about three rows over and out of my reach. Had I not had children in the basket, I honestly would have made a run for it. But with my munchkins’ safety being more important than my pride, I just watched it blow away.

I often wonder where that super embarrassing, super revealing, super identifying paper finally landed. I chuckle at the though of a Granny sliding into her car seat after her weekly Walmart run, only to look up and see this yellow paper plastered against her windshield. Would she read it, appalled by the content, or would she just look at it and wonder if she should look into buying these newfangled housecleaning items The Purple Wand, The Hitachi MagicWand and The French Tickler.

It was at that moment that I vowed to start keeping my car cleaner. Or at least keep my sex toy order forms away from the doors and windows.

I’m linked up with a great new blog hop today that was created just to make you laugh! Click here to find the other funnies!

The Crazy Lady & The Magnolia Tree

7:16. I saw the clock through my just-woken-up blurry vision. Normally this would be a pleasant surprise – both kids still asleep past 7:00. But on this morning the joy of getting to sleep in was immediately flushed away by the sheer panic that caused me to jump out of bed and run into my daughter’s room. Sleeping late today was just not how we needed to start this day. It’s a school day, and not just any school day. It’s my daughter’s end of year performance and class party day. I mentally changed my original plan of squeezing in a gym workout after dropping her off, but before having to be back for her performance, and simply rushed into survival mode. Get me dressed. Get both kids dressed – my daughter in a nice dress for her performance – not always an easy task with my strong-willed preschooler. Sure enough, she comes to me and says, “I don’t have to wear one of those new dresses with a horse on it that daddy bought me that I don’t like, do I?” Dear Lord child…they are beautiful Ralph Lauren Polo dresses. And yes, she was going to wear the pink dress “with the horse on it.”

Microwave pre-cooked sausage (thank you Jimmy Dean!) for my 11 month old to gum to death as a throw together my Weight Watchers 3 point egg white concotion. A quick bag of Litle Debbie blueberry muffins will have to suffice for my daughter’s breakfast as she watches Nick Jr. Strap my son into the carseat to contain him, shoving a bottle in his mouth, and begin to pack the diaper bag. All is well until I realize that I can’t find his bear lovey. We have THREE that are all exactly alike, but they ALL have disappeared. I glance at the clock. 8:28. School starts at 8:30. And it’s 15 minutes away. I’m turning over every pillow and blanket in my bear search when my daughter brings me her sandals, demanding help. I pause the bear hunt and sit down to buckle her pink sandals. I see her red Cars band-aid on her shin and smile as I remember her telling my mom “it’s a car race” when asked what happened on her leg yesterday. Ha! But, the ugly thing must come off before the performance today. So, I simply rip it off. I KNOW, I KNOW. Rule #1 of taking off kids’ band-aids is doing the 3-2-1 countdown. So SUE ME. I didn’t have time for a NASA-style countdown for this one. Well, low and behold, this un-warned band-aid removal started a full-blown screaming tantrum. I simply rolled my eyes and walked off. I still had a bear to find. My son has finished his bottle and is now crying because he wants – what – THE BEAR. My daughter is screaming and mourning the loss of her band-aid, and I’m now to the point of moving beds away from the walls looking for this lovey. I don’t know why, but I called my mom. I’m 30 years old and I still call her when I’m feeling crazy – which happens more than I’d like to admit. I carry the phone around with me, looking for the bear and recounting the morning’s events to her and I come across the bear – lying in the middle of the floor. I’m pissed. At what, I’m not sure. But I just feel pissed. This morning has been crazy and it’s only – gasp – 8:40. Dammit. They lock the school doors at 8:45. I’ve never been locked out. Why not try it out during the last week of school??

Sure enough, the doors were locked and I had to wait for the special button-pushing style entry. Luckily my daughter ran right into her teacher’s arms and I got back into my car without any additional drama. I looked in the mirror at my face with no make-up and take a deep breath. My moment of peace quickly interrupted by me remembering that I left the apples for the class party in the bottom drawer of my refrigerator! Dammit. I am flustered as I make the drive back home. I find myself wondering how working mothers do this. It’s not like they have less responsibilty at home. It’s simply compounded by their responsibility at work. I can’t imagine. I know my house looks like a tornado blew through. I know my son is being pacified by veggie straws in the back seat. And I know this day has just begun. Argh. I hate days like this.

I pull into my driveway on my apple mission and I see a white mound in the middle of my driveway. My annoyance level is very high and I am pissed that there’s trash on my driveway that I now have to go pick up. Annoyed. I get out of my car and walk over to the white mound and I see that it’s not trash at all. It’s a beautiful magnolia flower that has fallen out of the huge magnolia tree in our front yard. A wave of peace and calm floods over me. There is something about a magnolia tree that is tranquil. It’s a reminder of my childhood magnolia tree that I climbed with my brother. It’s a reminder that I live in the South where tea is sweet, my neighors are helpful, and I can hear the birds chirpping out my window. It’s a reminder of all the hours I’ve spent swinging under this tree with my babies. This white flower has turned my day around in an instant with its distinct scent and its supple beauty. There is no other flower I love more than a magnolia flower from a gigantic magnolia tree in the South. As I head inside for the apples, I smile and realize that this day can be salvaged. No fight over Polo dresses or lost lovey or band-aid drama needs to ruin any day. I live in a beautiful place with beautiful children and sweet tea. Seriously, does it get any better than this?

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