And just now, as I was spooning her melty ice cream into her pretty little mouth, Suvi: I want a blue bitar (guitar) and earrings (touching both her earlobes) like you Mom.
I guess if I don't want the boy to think I am mad at him more than not, and I really don't want my girl to have earrings, there are some changes to be made around here.
Oh bother. My little precious babycakes are my mirrors and my shadows. I need to do the work so they don't get shadowy. And I had to share this to remind myself that it matters what comes out of my mouth, how it comes out, and what goes in (and through) their ears.
I've had my humble pie for the evening!
Its not just me who suffers if I am not taking care of myself. This is, at times, very difficult to accept. Pity parties and mud puddles are not Table for One with these children in tow. Best to avoid or prevent such occasions. so that is IT. i am getting 50% stricter around here.
I am picking my heart up off the ground, taking my head out of my arse, and getting on with life. Dr Wanschura, HERE I COME!!!!! It took a lot of strong suggesting from my dear ol' pals, and some serious pushing from my friend/client JG (who had her babes in short order and knows the dumps from first hand experience) and her threat to call and check up on me today to make sure I made myself an appointment. This is more than the blues here, people, it is more than a pity party or a mud puddle or a bit down. I am afraid this is the big time, and it scares the poop out of me. It has been lasting too long not to say, I can't make myself even write the word...depression. Exhale.
I've been experiencing a range of emotions, but the biggest factor is my bitchiness. It is much greater than usual. I'm just crabby and irritable and then sometimes sad. But I am most definitely not enough of myself to go any further feeling THIS ANXIOUS. I'm really scared to admit all of this to myself, and will probably regret being so open about it here, but there is always the 'delete post' option, for later, when or if I am feeling more private about my life. It isn't every moment, like I remember from 13 years ago, but then, I am NOT willing to get to that whimpering puddle of me that thankfully made it through that time. Eew. I was miserable. I wanted to shrivel up into nothing and blow away in the wind. Now I want to fly the most beautiful kite ever dreamed of in the wind. With a huge colorful tail that screams celebration of this good vibration. And I am going to do it just as soon as my head is all cleared up.
I do wonder why the evenings seem to be...um, Normal. I don't feel any of that burdensome squeezing in my chest or tumbling of my brain after the sun goes down. Why is that?
I am thankful that my husband is so supportive. And even though I'm sure it is hard to hear your wife say time and time again, "I'm sad." "I just don't feel right." "I'm so stressed out." And maybe even scary to hear her say, "I'm depressed. In a real way." I bet it is a bit of a relief to hear her say she is ready to change it. I'm thankful for him and in my dark moments feel ashamed I'm not healthier for him. But I will be. It is in me. I am in me.
Mr Sensitive loves his "mr conductor" hat.
the thumb suckers (i did til i was 13!)
Suvi trying to convince Theo to drive to Caribou with her. This was her get up just before bedtime...jammies, sweater, church shoes on the wrong feet, back pack, bracelet.