I finally understand why people say it goes by so quickly. In January, they were babies, barely able to walk; just learning how to stand. Now, it's December and they are running through the halls giggling and exploring (and demolishing) everything within their grasp.
If you had told me in January that this would be the adventure I was facing, I would've laughed at you.
Now I think I get it. Now I realize that all of those little moments are precious because they're only going to be small for a very finite time. And that one day, if we've done our job well, they will leave us and lead independent, happy lives. That I need to cherish the moment now while keeping an eye towards the future. That I need to find a balance.
I hope to do right by them. I hope to do this job well.
We tore down the cribs and built the beds on Saturday.
Saturday and Sunday, they both went to bed with minimal fuss.
Monday, oh my God, Monday. We read "Good Night Gorilla," tucked them in and turned out the lights. Then we high-tailed it to our room and turned up the baby monitor. Within minutes we heard Hunter dropping things from the bookshelf on the OTHER side of the sofa --you know, the one on the far side from her bed.
She had crawled over her headboard onto the sofa, padded over and was standing on the far arm. And she was pulling everything high down.
Did I mention she did this in the dark?
Aden, meanwhile, lay giggling in his bed.
Fortunately it only took 3 tries to get them to bed, the last try involving Mark and me sitting in the dark, holding hands and petting foreheads.
And last night... Let's just say that Mark and I caught onto their "Let's raise a ruckus so Mom and Dad will come in here 80 times to put us to bed." It took about an hour for them to finally fall asleep after they escaped from their beds like 20 times. And exhausted as we were, we secretly high-fived, thinking they'd sleep in late and we'd be able to catch up.
At 5:12 AM, we were woken by a screaming, crying Hunter. Mark and I bolted out of bed thinking she'd fallen out. But she was standing in front of the Christmas tree (the tree is behind a room spanning baby gate that we call the "Forbidden Zone"), in the dark, crying her freaking eyes out. We had no idea why she was crying, but she was inconsolable and wailed for 10 minutes until we decided to get bottles. Then we were up... for the day.
Never mind that both kidlets were rubbing their eyes the entire morning. They were up, and DAMN IT, they were going to play. And they kinda did. In a lackluster, "I'm Tired" way, but they were too stubborn to be put back into bed.
The good thing is that they went to bed easily for their naps in a heartbeat and that it only took three tries to get them to sleep tonight.
My guess is that they're still tired and that once they're rested it, it'll start all over again.
P.S. Yesterday I moved on to a full (400 mg for me) dose of Wellbutrin. Mark asked me how I was feeling and I told him that, yeah, I was feeling better but I was thinking it might just be the placebo effect. Knowing that I had stuff that would make me feel was making me, well, feel better. I'm not in the depths as I was last week but I'm not at my most cheerful either. I know it's all baby steps and that I'll get there.
I guess this is all to say, thanks for listening. I'll let you know how this strange trip goes.
It's day two with the kids in their toddler beds. Here they are in all their sleeping glory:
These pictures were taken after Hunter had woken up screaming and Mark and I rushed in. She wanted nothing to do with me and Mark calmed her down. She seems to gravitate to him; Aden to me. Funny how that works.
There've been a lot of big changes this weekend so it would make sense that she might wake up and be a little bit afraid in her new environment. Hopefully they'll acclimate to things this week.
In case you didn't know, I (great big puffy heart) Ikea. We had to make two runs to get Hunter's big girl bed finished but at the end of the day it was all worth it. I took a ton of after photos of their room and will post those along with the Ikea story so you can see the transformation. I'm a bit tired tonight from all the activity this weekend and truth be told last night was a sleepless night for both parents. We were both on full alert, really listening for the kidlets which is something we have not had to do for a long long long time. When Hunter woke up crying at 2 AM yesterday we were both out of bed in a heartbeat.
Also we put up the tree in a crazed discordant way. Let's just say that only the front half of the tree is decorated. Screaming toddlers and frantic husband trying to tend to a chicken in the oven do not make for leisurely tree trimming. I wish it had mirrored the joy I had last year but we packed an insane amount into the weekend. And this year my heart and spirit are really not into Christmas. At least not for me. I want to give the kidlets the best Christmas ever but as for me, I want to curl up into a ball and sleep until sometime next year.
By the way, the wonderful folks at Typepad let me know that there was a scripting
conflict between my Amazon Wish List component and the comments. They
suggested moving the component from the left to the right, which makes
sense programmatically. The stuff on the right loads first and if
there's a conflict it will affect the middle and the left.
So comment away. It should work now. And if not, send me an email and give me a holler.
Depression has sunk its fangs in me again. And its deep and dark and miserable. Anxiety has come along for the ride which makes the party twice as fun.
Fortunately, I recognize my demons. I may not have acted as quickly as I needed too, but when I felt the heavy, heavy darkness come, I reached out.
For a change.
It is not something I do.
But I have two beautiful children. A loving husband. Responsibilities. I am no longer alone. I have people that need me; that need me sane and whole.
I called my PCP after a month or so of feeling progressively worse and asked him for a prescription. I knew what I needed. 400 mg of Wellbutrin daily. Stat.
His office grilled me for a minute, surprised that someone would call up and ask for psychotropic drugs. I calmly told them that I'd tried to kill myself a couple of times in the past and that I could recognize when things were getting bad. The conversation turned from a "sorry to bother you but could I have drugs" to them panicking to us lightly joking. The nurse said I was the most rational depressed person she knew.
I told her that I'd been through it before and I didn't want to fall into the hole that was ahead. That I was keeping my eyes wide open this time.
So here I am, using my blog again for the outlet which it has always been for me. I had held back for so long because folks were coming here to hear about the babies, to find out more about them. This was feeling less and less like my place.
But I need to be able to vent and write a little here, so I will at times, starting today. I wrote this yesterday, on a message board I frequent:
You know how you think that you'll finally be happy once you get married and have kids? Then you realize that as much as you love your husband and children, you're still miserable.
And that misery isn't just hormones or PMS, it's probably clinical. And you sit around wallowing and falling deeper and deeper into the funk and you withdraw from everyone around you to the point that you don't care anymore.
And then you type out all your feelings to a message board that doesn't care about you but you do it anyway because you have lost every outlet you had.
And all you really want is 400 mg of wellbutrin, but you can't motivate yourself to make the call. Meanwhile you let everything around you fall apart. You miss work deadlines, shirk your responsibilities, spend your time moping.
Yeah, that's me. Hello depression, my old friend. Nice to see you. You planning to stay for a bit?
Since then I have gotten those 400 mg prescribed. Today was my first dose, gradually building to what makes my brain happy.