Author Archives: Steph

About Steph

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I like words. I suspect I would like sanity, but I really have no way of knowing. I can be reasonable, but not often.
July 3, 2014

There’s No Mom of the Year Here

By Steph
crazyyetwise.wordpress.com

crazyyetwise.wordpress.com

I posted yesterday about Summertime Depression.  I didn’t particularly want to post it, but I feel like as a mom (or dad) these days we are always supposed to be “on.”

We are supposed to enroll our children in activities and then make sure we get them there.  We are supposed to make them study and play sports and play an instrument.  They should know which fork to use and how to give a speech or at least do a backflip.

Frankly, I’m pretty impressed with myself when my kids have clean clothes and I remember that they need haircuts.

Does that mean I’m a bad mom?  I don’t think so, but I’m no expert.  Right now I’m in a fog of depression and I can’t decide if my cat is really this big of an asshole or, if I was in better spirits would I not mind that my back is clawed up the way it hasn’t been since that one ever.

I think that my kids know that I love them, even on my worst days.  I know my kids have food to eat and clothes to wear and more gadgets and gizmos than I have myself.

Do we go to “activities” four times a week?  No.  Do I feel guilty about that?  Sometimes.  Sometimes I just think they have extra time to be kids.

I can’t, mentally or physically, be the PTA Super Mom.  I don’t like to play with Legos or Barbies.  I’m a terrible cook. (Also, I suck at juicing.)  But I will bake a cake on my kid’s birthday, and if I don’t have decorations I can make them, and if someone is sick or sad then I can stay up cleaning puke and rubbing backs for days.

I don’t know if I’m trying to justify my lackadaisical parenting to myself or to you or if I’m really trying to justify it at all.

I think I’m trying to explain that I posted my Mommy Depression post yesterday because I am SURE, positively, absolutely sure that there are other moms out there who feel the same way.  And I don’t know why it is so frowned upon to admit it.

Today I am not the best mom I can be.  I am better than I was yesterday.  Tomorrow I hope to be better than I am today.  But I’m not ashamed of the fact that I’m not “on” every minute of every day.  Being a mom (or dad) doesn’t magically imbue you with super powers.  I don’t have endless patience and sometimes I’m cranky.

Being a mom doesn’t take away the problems, mental or physical, that you had before, and sometimes it even awakens ones you didn’t know you had.

I think being a good mom (or dad) means just trying, every day.  Trying to love yourself and make sure your kids know that you love them.  I know that my kids know that they are my world, even on days when I’m sick or sad.  I know that my kids know that I will be there for them no matter what and they can talk to me.

I hope that I’m showing them by example how to be a decent person, even if I do struggle with depression and physical limitations.  I hope that I am showing them how to laugh and enjoy life, whether it is through or around the pain.

I’m trying.  Every day.

47 Comments   |  tags: , , , , , | posted in parenting, random bullshit, small humans, thoughts, your health is your wealth and this is why I'm poor

July 2, 2014

Summertime Depression

By Steph

 

cropped-glass.pngIt’s easier to be depressed during the school year.

As I feel myself falling down this familiar hole with all three kids here, I’m scrambling. I’m scrambling to tell them I’m sick, (which I am) and I’m tired (which I am) and to get them to just play and leave me alone.  I just want to lay in my bed in silence and stare at the wall for about 12 hours.

No, I do not want to play outside.

No, I do not want to go swimming.

No, I am not going to color.

No, I will not help you paint.

I don’t want to play and I’m not going to play.  I’m not good today and I just need you to be quiet and play with your five hundred million toys without needing my constant supervision and cheering on.

Yes, my depression makes me irritable.  No, it doesn’t help that everything hurts because I’ve overdone it this week and the weather is being weird.  Yes, I feel terribly guilty about it.  No, I don’t want to help you find whatever it is you’ve lost.

We made cookies from scratch yesterday.  Last week we put up the kiddie pool and I watched you swim for hours.  Last night we snuggled and watched movies.  Today I am broken.

Today I need to not be anyone’s mommy.  Today I can’t even take care of myself.

Depression is not easy any time, but it is hell in the summertime.

 

36 Comments   |  tags: , , , | posted in parenting, thoughts, your health is your wealth and this is why I'm poor

July 1, 2014

Juicing is Gross

By Steph

I’m sure by now you all know about my unique dietary restrictions and are probably tired of hearing about it.

Too damn bad.

I bought a juicer because I am gullible trying to be healthier.  Since I’m allergic to everything except vegetables and pie, you can probably guess what I’ve been eating a lot of.  I’ll give you a  hint: It ain’t vegetables.

So I saw all these things on Facebook talking about smoothies and how delicious they are and yum, yum!

I call bullshit.

I made my first smoothie and this is what happened:

 

Nasty.

Nasty.

Not very appetizing to me, and although a few people did see it and say “yum,” I think they were just fucking with me.

Here’s what I don’t get.  I can put some strawberries and some ice and like half a banana in there and it makes a not-vomit inducing 8 or 10 ounces of smoothie.  It’s not terrible, but it’s not terribly good either.  Why not just eat a couple strawberries and a banana?  It’s easier and it tastes better.

I think I’m missing something.  Are you people adding alcohol or ice cream or something else delicious that I don’t know about?  Is there a whole smoothie underground that I’m not a part of?

When I bought my juicer I bought kale and some other green stuff that I can’t even identify, almonds, steel cut oats, some other kind of grain that looks like you ought to feed it to a chicken, and wheat germ.  This shit is no good, I’m telling you.  Consider this a public service announcement.

Eat some broccoli and a damned salad and be done with it.  You mix all that shit up and it becomes a green sludge that would gag a … I don’t know, a picky eater I guess.

36 Comments   |  tags: , , , , | posted in Just Being Awesome, random bullshit, total chaos, your health is your wealth and this is why I'm poor

June 29, 2014

Shit My Family Says, Round 3

By Steph

So, you know how after you have kids, you spend countless hours teaching them right from wrong and how to behave and grow into healthy, contributing members of society? And then you take them out in public and in less than 5 seconds they can make you look like a complete asshat or worse?

That happens a lot around here.

My daughter is 5 and she’s having some trouble separating what is real from what is imaginary.  And by “having trouble,” I mean she’s a little liar.

I’m kidding, I’m kidding.

Kind of.

I don’t think she means to be naughty; in fact, I’m pretty sure she’s trying to be funny. We’re a jokey bunch, so that’s not surprising. But she doesn’t get jokes yet. At least, not how to tell them.

A knock-knock joke from this kid can last an hour. Then you get to the end and of course it’s not funny, but you laugh, cause she’s your kid. Then she says something about someone’s flatulence and that actually is funny, so you laugh.

Then you go out to eat and she tells the strangers at the next table that a) her mommy didn’t make her wear shorts under her dress this time so it’s just panties – wanna see? and b) mommy thinks it’s funny when someone farts.

Everyone laughs at this, so of course she continues to over share. Eventually she runs out of embarrassing but true stories and moves on to totally made up ones.

Such as:

“My mommy goes crazy, like an ape, like a mad, crazy monkey ape.”

“I know that, because I am a smart Alec.”

“We’re all werewolves.  We got bit.  Came in right through the window.”

“I don’t like my brothers because that’s how my mommy made me while I was in her tummy.”

What?  I wish I knew how I managed that, cause I would’ve made her not like any boys.  Ever.

no-boys-480

Or she might just make up a song.  Her songs are generally very amusing and mostly even rhyme.

Then you’ve got the ones like this that make you want to crawl under a table and hide.  For the rest of your life. “It’s an adventure in your mouth, it’s a magical bed louse.” Over and over.

I have no fucking idea.

But I have been told that I also made up songs as a child.  Though I wasn’t so imaginative, I did enjoy performing one-word ditties in front of a packed restaurant.  I’ll give you a hint: It rhymed with duck, duck, duck.  Over and over.

I guess over sharing also runs in the family, because my boys were the same way.  Once one of them (not to name any names) announced to a friend of mine that he had “just pooped a whale.”

Now that they are older, if they say anything to embarrass me, it’s on purpose and I assure you it is all lies.  Like when they tell people that I don’t feed them.  Or that they only like burnt pizza because “that’s how they were raised.”

I’m basically terrified to take them anywhere.

47 Comments   |  tags: , , , , , | posted in parenting, random bullshit, shit my family says, small humans, total chaos

June 27, 2014

Unfunny Doctors and How Business Works

By Steph

Yesterday was another eventful day, beginning with this conversation with my husband regarding a woman I saw standing on a corner holding a sign asking for money to feed her kids:

Me: So, a lady with a large cardboard sign may come down to the shop.  Give her some money, okay?

Him:  Say what?

Me:  She needs it to feed her kids and I don’t have any cash. I told her to go to your store.

Him: I’m not sure you know how businesses work.  Are you ever going to send someone to me who HAS money?  Like to BUY things?

Me:  Good point.  But give her some money this time, and I promise I won’t do this anymore today.

Him:  You do know there’s a food pantry you could send these people to, right?

Me: Oh.  No, I hadn’t thought about that.  Thanks!

He loves it when I send homeless people to his store.  Loves it.

You may remember that at a recent doctor’s appointment they did an EKG because of some pain randomly and of course it was “abnormal” so there was this big deal about “it’s probably nothing” but “we have to check it out” and “the cardiologist will just tell you it’s fine and send you on your way.”

I’m beginning to think they just said those things because I was crying.

I went to the cardiologist yesterday and he did an EKG and it was abnormal too, so now he wants to do another test “just to rule out” and “it’s probably nothing” but “we have to check it out.”

Hmmm.  The good news is he says whatever the issue may be, he doesn’t think it will interfere with having my murderous gallbladder removed.  So there’s that.

Also, I learned that doctors do not find me funny. Not at all. I suppose med school sucked all their funny out, cause we all know I’m fucking hilarious. I’m going to try again next week when I go for that #biliary bullshit (thank you Sarah!) and we’ll see if gallbladder peeps are more attuned to my stellar wit than cardiologists.

I also learned that when you write notes to yourself on your hand in blue ink while you are waiting for the doctor and then put your chin in your hand so you look calm and like you are a good listener, you end up looking like you spent your time waiting by doodling on your face. Which, again, doctors do not find amusing.

No wonder they think I am not funny and a little crazy.

Lastly, I found these little darlings and just had to bring them home with me, due to the whole crazy bird eye they were giving me.

They remind me of myself.

They remind me of myself.

42 Comments | posted in random bullshit