I was just reading an article on the interwebs which spoke to housework. The author gave some tips about cleaning and even spoke to the proper attitude for cleaning. She was a proponent of "good enough" cleaning. I can get behind that! One thing she did say that struck a nerve was that, in order to keep a good attitude, stay at home moms need to "embrace the endlessness." Oooohhhh did that set me off.
For people who know me well, this is not news...but for those of you who haven't been allowed into this part of my world, here it is: I don't like being a stay at home mom! I never have and I can only assume I never will. As soon as my youngest is in school I will be HAPPY to head back into the workforce.
By nature, I am an achiever. I like results I see when I work toward goals. It's not anything inherently bad or unhealthy. This drive led me to graduate high school in the top 10% of my class. It led me to finish college in 3 1/2 years. Up until I had children, I spent my whole life achieving. It's just how I am. Nothing, NOT ONE THING about being a stay at home mom provides that kind of satisfaction for me.
For those of you who are gasping and accusing me of some sort of blasphemy...to you I say "I just don't care darlin'!" It was NEVER my plan to be a stay at home mom. I never planned to be married or have children. It's the way life went...but never the plan.
I LOVE my children DESPERATELY. I love my husband. What I don't love is the endlessness. I cannot embrace it. I want to, but it violates every fiber of my being. I clean the kitchen 3 times a day...THREE. It stays clean for a maximum of 1 hour before it's time for snack or meal or someone makes a huge mess that requires lots of paper towels. I tidy my house TWICE a day...TWO...at nap time and after kids are in bed. As soon as they wake up, there is no evidence that it was ever tidy. It always looks like crap. Laundry is never, ever, ever done. That is hard for me. As an achiever, working without results is frustrating on a soul level.
Additionally, telling my son for the 4 MILLIONTH time not to hit his brother with a stick/sword/blanket/GI Joe is exhausting for me. Saying, "sit down at the table, sit down at the table, sit down at the table" day after day makes me want to smack my head into a wall. Reteaching the same social skills again, and again, and again feels like trying to roller skate in mud. Digging my heels in and NOT giving in to a temper tantrum 3-4 times a day just sucks the life (and joy) right out of me.
So why do I do it? Well, once I saw the track that my life was on I knew that I did not want another woman raising my children. As much as I loathe this "job" that I do, it's my conviction that it's my job to do (again MY conviction, not the ONLY right conviction...I have many great mom friends who work full time). I get to be the biggest influence on the lives of these little men and that is a high calling. I get to be the one who lays their spiritual, emotional, physical, and educational foundations. They are adorable, brilliant, funny, and remarkable children. In the big picture, I am very proud to be their mother.
I've had opportunities to go back to work full time and, even though I'm not happy staying home, I can't deny this conviction that I have. I WANT to, believe me. But, in my heart I know that I would be violating this very deep seated belief that I have.
So, since I can't quit, I have had to put a few coping strategies in place. First, my therapist has recommended doing things which have a beginning, middle, and end. THAT is why I paint so much. I can see results and that feels great! I also decided to go back to work two days a week. I am a kinder, less irritable, more snuggly mommy when I get to MISS my kids. It's good for our family to be apart a little. And, I blog. I created Whajasay http://www.littlenelsonkids.blogspot.com/ as a way to celebrate my kids and tie it into my great passion for writing. It makes me remember that they are amazing, hilarious, sweet little creatures.
I don't know what purpose sharing this will serve. It was on my mind, on my heart, and I felt compelled to share. Now I have to go feed the children again and then clean something...because that's what I do.
Life Less Sweet: Documentation of my struggle with depression and anxiety.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Snow Days = All Bets Off
Confession: I just FLAT OUT do not have the self control to be stuck in a house for days and days with any sort of sugar without ingesting it. I've tried to keep it moderate and, for the most part, I have. But, there has been sugar. It happened. There have been pancakes, snowcream, and a cocktail or two.
Meals have been fine. I continue to try to eat high protein, low simple carb, good fat meals (except the pancakes). I've even been able to snack on fresh veggies or boiled eggs. So it's not like I am just sitting here shoveling heaping spoonfuls of sugar into my mouth. So, I guess it's another case of progress, not perfection.
I am SUCH a perfectionist that it just FEELS like I am totally failing. My I would venture to say that my sugar intake is at least half of what it used to be. That's something. To my perfection warped mind it isn't 0% and that's a FAIL. Blech.
On the mental health front, I AM more irritable than normal...whether it's the sugar or BEING COOPED UP FOR MOST OF THE MONTH OF FEBRUARY WITH RAMBUNCTIOUS YOUNG SONS!!!!!!! is anybody's guess.
Meals have been fine. I continue to try to eat high protein, low simple carb, good fat meals (except the pancakes). I've even been able to snack on fresh veggies or boiled eggs. So it's not like I am just sitting here shoveling heaping spoonfuls of sugar into my mouth. So, I guess it's another case of progress, not perfection.
I am SUCH a perfectionist that it just FEELS like I am totally failing. My I would venture to say that my sugar intake is at least half of what it used to be. That's something. To my perfection warped mind it isn't 0% and that's a FAIL. Blech.
On the mental health front, I AM more irritable than normal...whether it's the sugar or BEING COOPED UP FOR MOST OF THE MONTH OF FEBRUARY WITH RAMBUNCTIOUS YOUNG SONS!!!!!!! is anybody's guess.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
One Day DOWN
It's 9:30 and I have been sugar free today. I ALMOST didn't make it. My mother in law sent us home with her delightful homemade chocolate cake...I stumbled upon it when I was tidying up the kitchen. I resisted.
High five to me!
High five to me!
Saturday, February 23, 2013
A Quick Gripe
I've lost some weight in the effort to cut back on simple carbs, sugar, and caffeine. Yay! It's not my goal, but I'll take it!
This is my complaint: I am only losing weight in my STUPID THIGHS! I know this is a shallow and ungrateful rant, but come on! Proportionally, I don't have big thighs or hips. It's my belly that's gots ta go.
Some of you know, in 2002, I lost a large amount of weight on Weight Watchers. I have, of course, gained it all back. My first 10 pounds lost came almost entirely from my thighs! I dont feel comfortable being a large chested, heavy bellied woman with (proportionally) narrow hips and thighs. Besides just being visually disproportionate, it also creates a problem with jeans that fall down. Not cute!
I wish there was some sort of corporate meeting you could have with your body about the percentage of weight loss that needs to occur in each problem area. Alas, there is not.
This is my complaint: I am only losing weight in my STUPID THIGHS! I know this is a shallow and ungrateful rant, but come on! Proportionally, I don't have big thighs or hips. It's my belly that's gots ta go.
Some of you know, in 2002, I lost a large amount of weight on Weight Watchers. I have, of course, gained it all back. My first 10 pounds lost came almost entirely from my thighs! I dont feel comfortable being a large chested, heavy bellied woman with (proportionally) narrow hips and thighs. Besides just being visually disproportionate, it also creates a problem with jeans that fall down. Not cute!
I wish there was some sort of corporate meeting you could have with your body about the percentage of weight loss that needs to occur in each problem area. Alas, there is not.
Time to Tighten the Belt
Friends, in the month of February, unless I have been ill and NOT eating anything, I haven't been careful at ALL about what I am eating. Oh, except I am still mostly off of caffeine...WIN! I think what I am going to need to do is go cold turkey for awhile.
Depression-wise I am doing fine. Really though, pumping my body full of non-nutritious food is counterproductive. I am fine NOW...but, what happens when there is a bigger stressor in my life? I'm not trying to be negative, I've just been down this road before. I've felt a TON better when Isaac was about a year old and decided I could handle more stress. The intensity and duration of the situation I took on went above and beyond the scope of my medication...I found myself depressed and anxious and miserable.
Through the trial and error of life experience I have learned that I do not have as much physically or emotional energy as I WISH I did. In order to protect my mental health, I have to make decisions in the context of "will this make me crazy?" If I am not doing everything that I know to do for my depression, I am more likely to be teetering on the thin line between "capable" and "crushed".
So in order to extend my margin of sanity, I need to watch my diet more carefully. I'm committing to an amount of time I be really strict about my sugar intake. NOTE: I'm not sharing my specific goal, because I just read some research that says that you slack more when you share your specific goals. So, you don't get to know. ;0)
Depression-wise I am doing fine. Really though, pumping my body full of non-nutritious food is counterproductive. I am fine NOW...but, what happens when there is a bigger stressor in my life? I'm not trying to be negative, I've just been down this road before. I've felt a TON better when Isaac was about a year old and decided I could handle more stress. The intensity and duration of the situation I took on went above and beyond the scope of my medication...I found myself depressed and anxious and miserable.
Through the trial and error of life experience I have learned that I do not have as much physically or emotional energy as I WISH I did. In order to protect my mental health, I have to make decisions in the context of "will this make me crazy?" If I am not doing everything that I know to do for my depression, I am more likely to be teetering on the thin line between "capable" and "crushed".
So in order to extend my margin of sanity, I need to watch my diet more carefully. I'm committing to an amount of time I be really strict about my sugar intake. NOTE: I'm not sharing my specific goal, because I just read some research that says that you slack more when you share your specific goals. So, you don't get to know. ;0)
Sunday, February 17, 2013
A Certain Kind Of Sadness
"You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness." -Gotye
Even though it is technically a pop song, that lyric has resonated with me since I first heard it. It's true...and I've known it for a long time. I am taking this year to intentionally focus on treating my depression with nutrition, medication, and therapy. I feel so much better...and...I don't. This illness has been a part of me for so long that I am (sometimes) not sure what to do with myself once I feel better. Sometimes, it's more comfortable to bask in the sadness you KNOW rather than journey into uncharted territory.
I hate feeling obsessive and unworthy. I hate not being able to get a handle on myself and function without pain. I hate feeling completely alone in a room full of people. I hate hearing words of rage fly from my mouth into the ears of my sweet children. However, there are elements of my illness that I don't mind...and a few that I cherish. When it comes to being "healed" from my depression, it seems that full and complete recovery kind of terrify me.
What I don't hate is that twinge of melancholy that prompts me to spill my soul onto paper. I don't hate the pessimism that protects me from enormous disappointment in the people around me. I don't hate the connection to the pain of the world that makes me sensitive to the hurt of others.
As I pursue healing, I am going to need to wrestle with the parts of me that find identity in my malady and ask myself if I really want to be healed.
Even though it is technically a pop song, that lyric has resonated with me since I first heard it. It's true...and I've known it for a long time. I am taking this year to intentionally focus on treating my depression with nutrition, medication, and therapy. I feel so much better...and...I don't. This illness has been a part of me for so long that I am (sometimes) not sure what to do with myself once I feel better. Sometimes, it's more comfortable to bask in the sadness you KNOW rather than journey into uncharted territory.
I hate feeling obsessive and unworthy. I hate not being able to get a handle on myself and function without pain. I hate feeling completely alone in a room full of people. I hate hearing words of rage fly from my mouth into the ears of my sweet children. However, there are elements of my illness that I don't mind...and a few that I cherish. When it comes to being "healed" from my depression, it seems that full and complete recovery kind of terrify me.
What I don't hate is that twinge of melancholy that prompts me to spill my soul onto paper. I don't hate the pessimism that protects me from enormous disappointment in the people around me. I don't hate the connection to the pain of the world that makes me sensitive to the hurt of others.
As I pursue healing, I am going to need to wrestle with the parts of me that find identity in my malady and ask myself if I really want to be healed.
Friday, February 15, 2013
Devil Eggs
As I walked into the store today, I was met with cart after cart burgeoning with Valentine's Day leftovers...50% off!!! I made it past the Whitman's Sampler hearts and pink frosted cookies. I made it past the cute little bags of caramel turtles and boxes of conversation hearts. I made it through 65% of my shopping list when I was met with a sugar AMBUSH!
In the aisle reserved for seasonal items, the soft velvety boxes of mixed chocolates had already been replaced with...EASTER CANDY. Not just Easter candy, but a giant, massive wall of Cadbury Creme Eggs. For me, Cadbury eggs signify the coming of Spring like Pumpkin Spice Lattes usher in the crisp air of autumn.
The display was probably 4 feet wide and 6 feet tall (I wish I was exaggerating). Row upon shiny row of magical, creme filled eggs. Each imported tasting chocolate delight was lovingly covered in primary colored foil and carefully protected by valiant purple walls of cardboard to create...the 3 pack. Oh, they sell them as singles, but it is FAR more economical to buy the 3 pack. Think of the SAVINGS!
The problem with the 3 pack can best be expressed with the words of the great Paula Poundstone (who was speaking of the POP TART conundrum, by the way).
"Inside there are three pouches of two. This is what happens to me: I open the first pouch, and I eat one tart, and I enjoy it very much, as naturally I would. And then I feel, Well, I have to eat the second one or it will go stale. Well, now I’ve eaten two, and it’s no longer just a snack, it’s a meal. I figure I may as well eat two more. And then finally I’m just like, Well hell, I don’t just want two pop tarts hangin’ out in a box. I eat the last two just to tidy up, really."
Change all the references from "tarts" to "Creme Eggs" and that's is the problem I have with the 3 pack.
Did I buy it? Yes I did. Did I really eat all three? Affirmative. Am I giving up my quest for less sugar? Nope, God help me, I'm still in.
I have to make it 39 more days without falling into the 3 pack trap again. Can I do it? Challenge ACCEPTED!
In the aisle reserved for seasonal items, the soft velvety boxes of mixed chocolates had already been replaced with...EASTER CANDY. Not just Easter candy, but a giant, massive wall of Cadbury Creme Eggs. For me, Cadbury eggs signify the coming of Spring like Pumpkin Spice Lattes usher in the crisp air of autumn.
The display was probably 4 feet wide and 6 feet tall (I wish I was exaggerating). Row upon shiny row of magical, creme filled eggs. Each imported tasting chocolate delight was lovingly covered in primary colored foil and carefully protected by valiant purple walls of cardboard to create...the 3 pack. Oh, they sell them as singles, but it is FAR more economical to buy the 3 pack. Think of the SAVINGS!
The problem with the 3 pack can best be expressed with the words of the great Paula Poundstone (who was speaking of the POP TART conundrum, by the way).
"Inside there are three pouches of two. This is what happens to me: I open the first pouch, and I eat one tart, and I enjoy it very much, as naturally I would. And then I feel, Well, I have to eat the second one or it will go stale. Well, now I’ve eaten two, and it’s no longer just a snack, it’s a meal. I figure I may as well eat two more. And then finally I’m just like, Well hell, I don’t just want two pop tarts hangin’ out in a box. I eat the last two just to tidy up, really."
Change all the references from "tarts" to "Creme Eggs" and that's is the problem I have with the 3 pack.
Did I buy it? Yes I did. Did I really eat all three? Affirmative. Am I giving up my quest for less sugar? Nope, God help me, I'm still in.
I have to make it 39 more days without falling into the 3 pack trap again. Can I do it? Challenge ACCEPTED!
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
A Steady Heart
My kids have been sick, my husband has been sick, and I have been sick AGAIN!!! I haven't cared what amount of sugar goes into my body. I feel yucky and I will eat whatever sounds good. But, nothing sounds good, especially not sugar.
I'm still partaking of honey. It's helping. I am drinking kefir. It helps too.
On the depression front, I am grateful that I decided to do something about my depression when I did. Being trapped in my house for over two weeks and having no choice but to meet needs in really nasty ways is not easy. BUT, it would have been a living HELL if I wasn't taking care of my brain.
When I am depressed I am very easily overwhelmed and I get an urgent "trapped" feeling if I can't get away from stressors. This in turn makes me defensive and irritable, which then makes me angry, and if left to continue to spiral it would lead to rage and a small breakdown. This breakdown isn't healthy or holy.
Instead of being a huge source of breakdown, the sickness in my family helped me to love my son more kindly. My son's sickness made me sad for him instead of angry with him. I was able to serve with little complaint instead of grumbling helplessly against the pressure of cabin fever and vomit clean up. These are the things my heart wishes to do and that I am unable to do when I am in depression.
For a long time I thought it was just my sinful weakness that made me crazy in circumstances like this. I didn't love God enough, love my family enough...and so forth. It kept me in a state of constant condemnation, scratching and clawing my way through life, trying to do the kindnesses I wanted to do, but couldn't. On some level, it will always be a struggle (which is why I can only plead the justification of Jesus). What I have learned in this last year is that depression is a skewing filter that isn't in my heart (necessarily) but in my blood chemistry. Some of the struggles that I had named as "sin" disappear when I am medicated.
Was it hard to suck it up and stay in a dark, illness ridden house while the warm sun was shining outside? Yes. Did it irritate me to be woken from a dead sleep by the sounds of my child retching? Naturally. Did I get discouraged with myself when I had to depend on my husband to run the house while I suffered with stomach flu? Indeed I did.
I still struggle. It is still a choice to make... the choice to love instead of be selfish. But, it is far simpler to make those choices without the crushing weight of my depression. I'm quicker to see the need in my family as a means to love them rather than a burden when my eyes are not clouded by the lens of my illness. It's easier to be clay in the Hands of God without my brain working double time to second guess Him.
I'm still partaking of honey. It's helping. I am drinking kefir. It helps too.
On the depression front, I am grateful that I decided to do something about my depression when I did. Being trapped in my house for over two weeks and having no choice but to meet needs in really nasty ways is not easy. BUT, it would have been a living HELL if I wasn't taking care of my brain.
When I am depressed I am very easily overwhelmed and I get an urgent "trapped" feeling if I can't get away from stressors. This in turn makes me defensive and irritable, which then makes me angry, and if left to continue to spiral it would lead to rage and a small breakdown. This breakdown isn't healthy or holy.
Instead of being a huge source of breakdown, the sickness in my family helped me to love my son more kindly. My son's sickness made me sad for him instead of angry with him. I was able to serve with little complaint instead of grumbling helplessly against the pressure of cabin fever and vomit clean up. These are the things my heart wishes to do and that I am unable to do when I am in depression.
For a long time I thought it was just my sinful weakness that made me crazy in circumstances like this. I didn't love God enough, love my family enough...and so forth. It kept me in a state of constant condemnation, scratching and clawing my way through life, trying to do the kindnesses I wanted to do, but couldn't. On some level, it will always be a struggle (which is why I can only plead the justification of Jesus). What I have learned in this last year is that depression is a skewing filter that isn't in my heart (necessarily) but in my blood chemistry. Some of the struggles that I had named as "sin" disappear when I am medicated.
Was it hard to suck it up and stay in a dark, illness ridden house while the warm sun was shining outside? Yes. Did it irritate me to be woken from a dead sleep by the sounds of my child retching? Naturally. Did I get discouraged with myself when I had to depend on my husband to run the house while I suffered with stomach flu? Indeed I did.
I still struggle. It is still a choice to make... the choice to love instead of be selfish. But, it is far simpler to make those choices without the crushing weight of my depression. I'm quicker to see the need in my family as a means to love them rather than a burden when my eyes are not clouded by the lens of my illness. It's easier to be clay in the Hands of God without my brain working double time to second guess Him.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Days Like This
Today is day FOUR of being at home with my sick son. Four days of being IN the house...four days of meeting needs and problem solving outside the normal realms of the every day...four days of managing body fluids...four days of sleepless nights. I am tired and bored and restless.
The weather reflects my mood. It's gray and rainy outside. There is instability in the air and it is a cold-ish/warm-ish day.
I want to eat some warm, freshly baked, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. I want to sip a sweet French Vanilla coffee instead of my decaf cut with whole milk. I want to march upstairs and go back to bed.
But in the words of my two year old..."I cain't." I don't have the ingredients to make cookies. There is no flavored creamer in my house. And, I have two little kids who need me awake until nap time at least.
It's days like this that I am grateful that there isn't any extra sugar in the house and that I can't leave to get any. It's days like this where I really do just have to keep on truckin'...whether I feel like it or not.
The weather reflects my mood. It's gray and rainy outside. There is instability in the air and it is a cold-ish/warm-ish day.
I want to eat some warm, freshly baked, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. I want to sip a sweet French Vanilla coffee instead of my decaf cut with whole milk. I want to march upstairs and go back to bed.
But in the words of my two year old..."I cain't." I don't have the ingredients to make cookies. There is no flavored creamer in my house. And, I have two little kids who need me awake until nap time at least.
It's days like this that I am grateful that there isn't any extra sugar in the house and that I can't leave to get any. It's days like this where I really do just have to keep on truckin'...whether I feel like it or not.
Monday, February 4, 2013
The Wagon
I was sick all last week with a gross mix of coughing and tummy flu. I barely ate ANYTHING. Once I started feeling better, I ate whatever sounded good. And I am OK with that. Being sick and getting better is allowed to trump any dietary preferences for a few days.
Today is Monday and I am no longer sick. But, by George, I am still wanting (and eating) sugar. I have fallen off the wagon.
Here is an interesting article about "falling off the wagon". In a nutshell, the study suggests that "all or nothing" thinkers tend not to do very well when faced with backsliding. It also mentions some interesting information about addictive urges and our resistence to them.
http://www.time.com/time/health/article/0,8599,1868965,00.html
I am an "all or nothing" thinker. I am the EMBODIMENT of an all or nothing thinker. My descriptor of choice for the battles of my life, is more often than not: FAILURE. It's ludicrous. This occurs not because I AM a failure, but rather because I fear failing. So, whenever I have a set back or something doesn't turn out the way I hoped it would (or even when something blows up in a nasty mess in my face) I see it as some deep seated downfall, a character flaw that I have to work hard to fix.
Let me be clear, I do have some real, deep seated failings that often make my life harder than it needs to be. I also have a Hope. I hope that the actual missteps of my heart are covered by the sacrifice of Jesus. My true loss is choosing not to live in that Hope. I continue to try to earn the love God and the love of others by trying hard to be perfect...and then smashing my head into a wall when I can't live up to it.
But often, it's not the heart issues in my life that I am mourning. I find that I am berating myself for circumstances that I didn't really control. I am magnifying tiny little shortcomings into enormous problems. I am being hard on myself for not knowing myself well enough to have made a wiser choice. It's unkind. God doesn't hold me accountable for these things, who am I to keep a more stringent record?
Today, I am going to be nice to myself. I'm going to finish this brownie that I am eating as I type and realize that it's just a brownie. In the big picture of my life, this instance where I gave into the temptation of sugar is not significant. I will make a cognisant effort not to overanylze it or pick it apart until it bleeds. I will not quit trying to avoid sugar and simple carbs. I will take it for what it is, a minor backslide on a long, steep climb. I can glean what information I can from the whys and wherefores of today's indulgence. But, then...I'm gonna let it go. That's life. I'll just try again tomorrow.
Today is Monday and I am no longer sick. But, by George, I am still wanting (and eating) sugar. I have fallen off the wagon.
Here is an interesting article about "falling off the wagon". In a nutshell, the study suggests that "all or nothing" thinkers tend not to do very well when faced with backsliding. It also mentions some interesting information about addictive urges and our resistence to them.
http://www.time.com/time/health/article/0,8599,1868965,00.html
I am an "all or nothing" thinker. I am the EMBODIMENT of an all or nothing thinker. My descriptor of choice for the battles of my life, is more often than not: FAILURE. It's ludicrous. This occurs not because I AM a failure, but rather because I fear failing. So, whenever I have a set back or something doesn't turn out the way I hoped it would (or even when something blows up in a nasty mess in my face) I see it as some deep seated downfall, a character flaw that I have to work hard to fix.
Let me be clear, I do have some real, deep seated failings that often make my life harder than it needs to be. I also have a Hope. I hope that the actual missteps of my heart are covered by the sacrifice of Jesus. My true loss is choosing not to live in that Hope. I continue to try to earn the love God and the love of others by trying hard to be perfect...and then smashing my head into a wall when I can't live up to it.
But often, it's not the heart issues in my life that I am mourning. I find that I am berating myself for circumstances that I didn't really control. I am magnifying tiny little shortcomings into enormous problems. I am being hard on myself for not knowing myself well enough to have made a wiser choice. It's unkind. God doesn't hold me accountable for these things, who am I to keep a more stringent record?
Today, I am going to be nice to myself. I'm going to finish this brownie that I am eating as I type and realize that it's just a brownie. In the big picture of my life, this instance where I gave into the temptation of sugar is not significant. I will make a cognisant effort not to overanylze it or pick it apart until it bleeds. I will not quit trying to avoid sugar and simple carbs. I will take it for what it is, a minor backslide on a long, steep climb. I can glean what information I can from the whys and wherefores of today's indulgence. But, then...I'm gonna let it go. That's life. I'll just try again tomorrow.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)