Sunday, April 24, 2011

Number 5

I am pregnant again.

The news is fabulous, exciting and wonderful (more so because this is definitely the last one).

The timing leaves something to be desired.

The sickness has already hit and the accompanying grumpiness is in full-swing.

However. A new baby. So sweet.

I keep reminding myself that nine months of misery equals four days of hospital bliss.

This is how I get through pregnancies.

I can read a lot of books in four days (all while holding a new baby).

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Happy Days Are Here Again

Well. For the last three weeks I have suffered (suffered!) with a state of depression. But depression really seems like too mild of a phrase for the way I felt. It is more like I was sucked into a black hole of helplessness, hopelessness and anxiety, and then someone had the nerve to also pull out all my toenails and fingernails, too. Just to add to the misery.

I did not answer my phone, no matter how much I love you. Because at that moment, you were a weight around my neck and I was really trying hard not to drown in this black hole of crappiness, so I couldn't be bothered to, you know, exchange pleasantries and say stuff like, "Oh, hey. How are you?"

I did get my kids to school. I got them dressed. I fed them breakfast, lunch, and dinner. All without ever really looking at them! I fed my baby a bottle while staring off into space instead of looking into his truly gorgeous face like I usually do.

(On the funnier side, my mother-in-law, on hearing that I was feeling "a little bit down" asked, "Is it because all your friends are South Korean?")

But, I turned a corner last week. This morning I fed my baby his bottle and looked into his eyes the whole time. I drove my kids to school without having to pull over to cry. I fed them breakfast without having to retreat to my room because why are they talking to me?

Anyway. There's not a real point to this story, except to omit this period in my life makes me feel a little bit dishonest (not that I am against a little dishonesty in life--sorry, Mel! Remind me sometime to tell you all about Mel. She's amazing. And she's one of my former students, so I take complete credit for her life. That's pretty much how I work. How dare you bring up my drug dealing former students! How rude!)

So anyway. The point, which is not a point, not even close to a point, is that I was depressed. I feel better now, but I thought you should know it's not all Barbie sing-alongs (hmm, maybe the origin of depression? Must consider.) and beach trips. Also, my house is a disaster.

And I am still awesome.