Sometimes it's catchy.

I have been struggling a lot lately. I hate talking about it because sometimes I feel like nobody cares and nobody really wants to hear it. I feel like you're wondering why I'm not better already, I must not be trying hard enough.

Maybe I should exercise and go outside more, right?

I feel like I'm doing a lot to get better. I go to therapy, I am medicated to the hilt. I go to all of my doctor appointments and do what I'm told to do. I fake it, I smile and I laugh. I make the effort, I try not to nap all the time, I try to get out of the house, I try.

But still.

I feel like I can't feel. When the kids do something really great and I should feel a swell of pride? Nothing. When I can't pay a bill and I should be worried or upset? Nothing. When the sun is shining and things are going good that day and I should feel content or maybe even happy? Nothing. I feel like I'm in a weird position because I can't decrease my medication because then I'm an emotional mess and I want to die. If I increase it I feel like a zombie. At least at this dose I can function and that's something.

It doesn't mean it's a good way to exist.

But there have been a couple of things that's happened lately that make me pause and think... maybe my struggles with mental health aren't primarily because of my AFE. Maybe that just made it worse. I go through my Facebook memories everyday mostly to help me remember things but I'm noticing a lot of posts from the start of my profile (2009) are me being... depressed. I'm down, I'm flat out saying I'm depressed, I'm displaying crazy behavior that shows I'm OCD and anxious, and I think I should probably have been in therapy. I thought I was fine, I was efficient and helpful, I was an over achiever and I was crazy. I fully recognize now that I was out of control and I wish someone had really sat me down and said, "You need help, you are dealing with high functioning depression." and I probably wouldn't have done anything right then but I would have thought about it.

Fast forward to now and I worry that me being the way I am now affects my kids negatively. As it turns out, all of the behaviors they witnessed when they were younger are what shaped them. (Which you're right, I think about what Penelope and Lucy are going to be like so I worry about this.)

Over the weekend we had the kids clean the basement floor. They were responsible for the mess, they need to clean it. I saw Jackson run through the house and upstairs but I didn't think anything of it. Olivia came up to tell me Jackson bailed on her and she was (rightfully) pissed off. I call Jackson down and tell him to go back and help his sister. Problem solved.

Then when I went to bed that night, I find this on my night table.

Deadly fear of centipedes. You guys, no way could that thing be alive, it's been FREEZING and it's so cold in my basement.

I had no idea we were even out of bread so at least I knew before I went to use it. He had left me like $2 rolled up. I grab it, while laughing, and I was going to bring it to his room when I saw this on my doorway:

At this point I have almost pissed my pants because this is hilarious and adorable but now I can't go down, he's going to have hurt feelings. I made Matt go down and give him his $2 back because I am not taking his money. But I wondered if I've instilled guilt into him. He worries incessantly about things I know I would have worried about but I could care less about now, and I worry that this is going to eat him up.

Then I have Olivia. She is my over achiever, do it all, exceed expectations, perfectionist kid. She wants me to come speak at her school.

But apparently she's fully over me and my forgetfulness but she's at least really nice about it.

Then I was taking her to dance and she's telling me she has to make herself lists but her lists can't be "uneven" and she had to re-do it. I asked her to pull it out and let me see and this was it: 

Am I being unreasonable to think this is crazy? I don't want her to grow up and be neurotic like I was. Is she going down the road of high functioning depression?

I tell you, when I first became a mom I figured I would just wing it and it would all fall into place. That this mysterious set of skills that you need for motherhood would just show up and it would come naturally to me. I know the fact that that didn't happen really put me in a tail spin and I have sincerely muddled through being a mom. 

When I was 23 with my first baby (this is Olivia at three weeks) I had no idea what was down the road from me. It's a special kind of sting to go through these photos and not remember any of it, I have no connection to any of it, and I want to know where I went wrong. Am I making those mistakes again? Maybe I'm making new mistakes? I just really don't want my kids to struggle like I am. I really don't want them to ever feel like this, even a small piece of this. It's not OK and I don't know how to help them when I can't fix myself.

One step closer to the loony bin... or prison. Thanks, family.

Before I get into today's post, my latest post for Duluth Moms Blog is live! It's Meal Planning for Dummies and I think you'll like it. 

I know many moms are going to relate to this post because we've all been there. It happens to all of us. I know it used to bother me before but I was able to take this kind of thing in stride a little easier, but post AFE I give absolutely no craps and I'm just done. 

I'm physically, mentally, emotionally done with it. 

I am so close to losing it on my family and I don't even think they care. Maybe I have to go ballistic on them for them to get it? My poor psychiatrist always asks if I feel rage and I have to say every day. I always get the blank stare because he's not sure what to think about that but it's true. Every single day I am brought to the brink of rage and it's my family. It's not anyone else, it's the people who live in this house. 

 The recycling. We have a paper bag that we collect our recycling in and then when it's full, someone takes it out. As of late my family have given that up and they now leave it on the windowsill. I'm not sure who they think is going to take care of it, but it drives me crazy. The bag is RIGHT THERE. But you see, that makes the bag full and logically they'd have to take it out. Nobody wants to take it out so they do this creative bit and wonder why I get angry. 

 I don't actually eat a lot of food. If I eat once a day I'm doing pretty good. Sometimes all I want is a small bowl of cereal. But I can't even have that because everyone leaves the box open and it goes stale. It's so infuriating. 

 Alright, this was Lucy. Lucy colored on my brand new, expensive grown up lamps. I mean, if the light is on you can't see it but once you turn it off there it is. Thanks, Lucy. 

 This was no help from my family, this was ALL ME. I worked all weekend doing laundry, folding it, putting it away (or in people's rooms). I had to take a picture to document the fact that it happened. It actually happened. A family of six and an empty laundry basket. 

It didn't last long. Actually only until the morning when Olivia filled it. She filled it with stuff I told her to put away early in the week and I know damn well she hadn't worn. I swear to god that girl is going to send me to the brink because of her laundry. 

 Someone didn't even have the decency to put a new roll on top. I mean, I have no expectations a roll would be changed but you could at least get us halfway there with a roll on top. 

Not my family. 

I sweep my floors every day. I mop every other day. I am so physically exhausted from doing both of these things so frequently. It's not like I can skip it because I have this pile of dirt on my kitchen floor EVERY DAY. 

I tried to sweep it into a heart to boost morale. 

It didn't work. 

You guys. 

I'm not like I once was, I can't keep this up. I talk to people, explain how over it all I am and we're good for a day or two. Then people just stop and wait for me to lose it on them again. It's not a matter of just hiring someone, I literally cannot handle the stress of having someone in my house, touching my things. I just can't do it. I so badly want a one level home but the reality of that is that it isn't going to happen. I have to make what we've got work and I'm not kidding- I'm struggling. 

I am so, so grateful I have therapy on Monday. It feels like I haven't been there in forever and it's only been two weeks. 

Overtaken by toddlers

Someone asked me the other day if I thought have two kids only fifteen months apart was like twins. I think having twins would be easier in some respects but harder in others. I know that right now I struggle. These two are the sweetest handful ever.

It is no surprise that the main instigator is Penelope, she often says, "do it, do it Lucy" when Lucy is doing something she shouldn't. Lucy is always trying to copy Penelope, and we've had some serious showdowns over toys. It's honestly easier to buy two of everything.

A big change in the last few weeks is transitioning Lucy to the toddler bed. Everyone gives me a look when I say this, and I often hear, "But she's just a baby!". Technically, she's a toddler. She's a baby in a lot of ways still, sure, but Matt and I really need sleep. Lucy has been sleeping in a crib in our room since she was born. We honestly didn't think this would be a big deal but as it turns out, it kind of is. Neither one of us feel comfortable doing anything in the room with her right there... even if she is asleep. It just feels wrong. Lucy is also kind of a noisy sleeper, just like her dad. She snores, grunts, cries, and moves around a LOT.... all in her sleep. It's enough to drive you nuts. We thought long and hard about it and we realized that Penelope was only 15 months when she basically got forced into the toddler bed because we needed the crib for Lucy, so now that Lucy is 15 months we felt that it could be done.

How is that going? Well... not bad. Not as bad as we anticipated. Night time is actually pretty great, if she cries (she normally wakes up crying around 4 a.m.), it hasn't woken up Penelope (yet) and we're able to get her back to bed. She's pretty willing to get up in the bed on her own, she'll pull her blankets up, but I think the pillow is odd for her. Often times you'll find her next to the pillow. Penelope has adjusted pretty well to sharing a room, which that alone was surprising.

It's nap time that kills us. Even if I get Lucy in there and wait until she's sleeping and then bring Penelope in, it's a 50/50 chance on whether either of them will sleep. I will say, it isn't always Penelope at fault. I've heard Lucy getting out of bed and waking Penelope up. Other times Penelope will go to Lucy's bed and tell her it's "morn" and they start giggling and playing. The best is when I go to get them in the morning and Penelope says, "Lucy poop". As if the overwhelming smell didn't clue me in. 

Let's talk about Penelope- she is pretty damn smart. She can count to ten, knows most of her letters, knows her colors and shapes, we're working on drawing lines and circles (she is definitely left handed!), she follows 2-3 step directions, and is talking really well. I'm pretty surprised at what this kiddo can do. She's only 2 1/2 but she is having a good time learning things. She hasn't really gotten the hang of crafts, or maybe she isn't interested. She loves Play-Doh and Lego's, where Lucy is more into pretend play, Little People, and cars. Oh! Penelope is really interested in the Disney Princesses. We're watching all of the movies, except Frozen because I hate it and I cannot stand Idina Menzel and that damn song which is just terrible. She really likes Moana and Rapunzel the best, she thinks SHE is Rapunzel because they both have the same color of hair.

Some days are just LONG with these two. I honestly am not cut out to be a stay at home mom, I really don't enjoy it, so knowing this is all I can do? It's pretty depressing. I think I could have handled all of this better had I not had an AFE- I could at least leave the house with them, but the only time I leave my house during the day is for a doctor appointment and I go alone. I think if I didn't have depression and anxiety I would be doing better. Some days I'm fine, some days I can fake it and only cry for a minute in the bathroom, and some days I can't handle anything and I'm flying off the handle about something really pointless, but I'm overcome with rage. It's horrible. I don't see it coming, I can't control it when it happens, and often I don't recognize it until later. Sometimes I don't remember at all. I'm not sure if that's better or worse, really.

Last week I was really at my end with all of the whining, and Penelope testing boundaries, and finally I just yelled at her. I took away the thing she wasn't supposed to be swinging around and she just said, "You no like me". My mom asked if I heard it and of course I did. I have sonic ears now, I hear everything. And I feel like shit. I feel like I am a terrible mom and I'm angry I can't just pull it together. I am angry I need help, I'm so tired of dealing with it that I just shut down and say I'm fine. I'm 100% not fine but I'm sick of explaining it. I'm sick of feeling like I'm not explaining what I'm feeling and thinking well enough for people to understand.

I do know that I love them. My life wouldn't be complete without them, I know that. Some days they just hug me and I can just see how much they love me, I see I'm their favorite person and that at some point I did OK because they feel safe with me. They feel loved. But I always feel like I'm failing someone. I'm always failing someone. 

Big milestones involving feet and poop.

The last two weeks have been pretty up and down with my mood. Some days I feel almost like my old self and then the next day it all comes crashing down and I feel like I'm in the worst hole of my life. It's hard to decide if a new anti-depressant is working when life is like that. I mean, do I shoot for 2-3 good days and decide that the medicine is working? Should I have good days every day? Most days? I don't know. I'm just so tired and frustrated with it all. I go back to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota on August 28 (next Monday) but that's for endocrinology and I have a list of questions, hopefully I'll leave there feeling better than last time.

I just found my camera and realized I never took the pictures from Lucy's party off it, so I thought I'd share a few with you.

I love this picture so much, not just because my niece is in it, but because it showcases everyone's personality. Adriana is friendly and quiet, Lucy is interested and the observer, and Penelope is Penelope, rolling around in the background.

This is how you'll find Penelope most days now. She's going to be a gymnast whereas Olivia had exactly zero interest in flipping and tumbling around.

Penelope and Adriana are only six months apart in age, so it's really fun seeing them play together. Penelope is so wild and full of it and poor Adriana was like, "Settle down, kid". HA!

Lucy got a bunch of great gifts we've been enjoying since her party. It's so nice to have different things for her and Penelope to fight over.

But this one year old is walking! Well, she's taking the tentative steps without hanging onto anything but then she feels unsure or unsteady and goes back to crawling as fast as she can. She loves this pony toy my mom got her and can get on and off by herself, and she'll just sit there rocking on it. It's pretty adorable.

I love, love, LOVE this picture. I am so glad I finally got a picture of her making this face because my favorite thing about Lucy is her excited expression. She makes this face anytime she's excited, when she sees food, or right before she gets angry because she wants something Penelope has.

She's just now getting to the age where she will fight back for what she wants. Thankfully Penelope is coming around and plays nicer with her, but some days it's really tough. Having two so close in age isn't ideal, I don't care what anyone says. If anyone asks me I'm going to vehemently argue against having two so close together.

Most of the time though she is the sweetest love bug. She's content to sit on your lap and cuddle, she likes to take things out of containers, she still wants to be rocked to sleep snuggled next to you, she randomly gives hugs and kisses, and is very ticklish. I really love her. I don't remember rocking and snuggling her when she was younger, I'm sure I did it I just don't remember, so now when I rock her I try so hard to bank it in my memory so I don't forget. I don't remember her baby smell, the sound of her coos, or the looks of adoration she gives, I so badly want to remember something. 

Certainly not to be outdone, but Penelope is a mini rock star at potty training. We've been doing it about two weeks now, with the first day by far being the worst. I went to bed in full tears convinced we'd have to wait until the summer before kindergarten to potty train. The next morning I got up, fully dejected, and just said to her that we need to really try to get to the potty.

And that was that. She just did it. I don't know if she sensed my desperation or it was obvious even to a two year old that I was ready to lose it. Either way, I'm grateful.

We still have accidents here and there (usually when she's eating or really engrossed in an activity), and we wear a diaper or pull up for nap time, bed time, and if we go out, because it'll be awhile yet. But it's been GREAT not changing so many diapers in a day. She's a fan of panties so we have a basket full of Trolls, Minnie Mouse, Dory, and plain panties (I swear we must have 20 pairs) and she takes great care picking out a new pair every time she goes. Oh yes, she has to be stark naked to use the potty but that is not the hill I want to die on so we're going with it for now.

33-35 weeks. There she blows?

Well lambs, I am officially 35 weeks pregnant with Fetus Four, still unnamed. My due date is officially August 8, but I don't think anyone in their right mind thinks I'm going to make it to that point. I certainly don't. I feel like I'm not updating you as much this time as I did with Penelope and it's certainly not because there hasn't been anything to report, but more of I'm just too damn tired to do it. I already feel like this baby will get the shaft on a lot of the things because the other three are exhausting me. My grandpa said one in four people end up being a serial killer, so maybe this is the one of mine that goes on to be one? Just out of childhood neglect or something. Matt says this might be our Joe Dirt baby, the one we forget places. Which actually might happen because anyone who has been around me lately knows my memory is absolutely shot. This baby has killed any remaining brain cell I had left after Penelope.

 33 weeks

Almost everyone asks me how I'm doing and I say, meh. And it's really meh. There are some great days where I feel like I could literally climb a mountain and have no issues. Then there are other days where I feel absolutely horrific. I've got a headache, I'm swelling, my back hurts, I've got ligament pain like never before, I'm contracting on and off all day despite every effort not to, my vagina hurts like someone has literally hit me repeatedly with a hammer, and I generally feel like my bones are going to basically give up and collapse. Some days I'm hungry all day and others I can barely eat. The only reason I do is so that my headache doesn't get any worse. I can't possibly ingest any more water yet here I am, forever peeing. 

Oh! But fun thing- at 33 weeks I played the "Did I pee on the floor or did my water break?" game a few times. As it turns out, I just peed on the floor. Twinky, our dog, was not pleased and the whole thing was very confusing to him. I'm sending the poor animals mixed messages about going to the bathroom in the house. 

At 34 weeks I decided we were going to drive to the Minnesota Zoo, approximately two hours away, and see that because we've never been. I have a whole post on that next week for you, but in hindsight, I really wish I would have had Matt take pictures of me throughout the four hours we were there because I ended up swelling up three times my normal size. Even the kids were freaked out. I couldn't bend my fingers and not a chance in your life I was taking off my sneakers because they weren't going back on. The day after was absolutely brutal- I thought for sure I was going to go into labor. Needless to say, the fun summer trips far from home are basically done. I feel like I'm going to explode. 

My 32 week appointment my doctor checked me because I had been saying the contractions all day every day are really becoming a problem. I wasn't dilated or anything, but things were softening up and she felt the head really low, which made me happy to know I wasn't losing my mind because there have been a few times where it feels like her head is coming right on out. At the 34 week appointment I saw a nurse practitioner who is really quite lovely, and she said instead of coming back at 36 weeks, I need to come back this week (I go on Thursday) and they are going to do my Group B Strep test and check me again because things sound like they might happen sooner than August. Which, I kind of hope they do?  

35 weeks

But this is me on the Fourth of July. We didn't go do our traditional stuff because I just wasn't feeling well and I really didn't think I'd be able to stay awake, honestly. I feel so huge. 

But this is me 35 weeks pregnant with Penelope. I felt MUCH better there than I do currently. 

Me at 36 weeks with Jackson. He was just a peanut, though. I honestly never even really felt pregnant with him and for the most part, that's how this pregnancy has been. I keep saying this pregnancy is SO MUCH like the one with Jackson that I really hope this isn't an actual boy instead of a girl. I will have an anxiety attack like no other if this is really a boy.

And then me at 36 weeks with Olivia. So you can see how I've just gotten bigger and bigger with each pregnancy. I might actually explode this time, you guys. For reals. 

So yeah. That's where I'm at. I'm so tired each and every day. I'm starting to really worry that Penelope is going to not adjust well to a baby, she's basically my mini-me, best friend, all day next to me buddy. It's going to be really hard once Olivia and Jackson go back to school and it's just me with two kids under two. I mean, people do that and survive, right?