Momma's Secret Passions...

By Amy

Hmmm, sounds a little steamy, huh?  Haha, I realized while typing the title it sounded a bit scandalous...and then I laughed my head off, cause I am like the LAST person who would write a naughty blog post.  And, then I HAD to keep the title.  :)

So.  I'm pretty sure all of us have secret dreams and aspirations that we keep hidden and safe.  It could be something you used to love to do, but can't seem to find the time for anymore.  Or, maybe it's something that you lack confidence in and you can't seem to get back into it. (Or try for the first time!)  Sometimes, a dream seems so stinkin far-fetched that we pass it off as unrealistic and never even try.  (Like my dream of becoming a famous rapper.  See pic below.  And, I'm kidding.  I can't rap to save my life.)

Yes, that is me (on the right) with my husband.  My rapper name: Al-Z Vanilla Face Danger Mouth. 

But, I love to hear stories about someone who out-of-the-blue decides to pursue a secret goal, whether it's big or small.  Like the retired businessman who takes up painting or the school teacher who decides to start training for a marathon.  Or the stay at home mom who decides to take a Hip Hop class.  Or the 65-year-old woman who enrolls in online courses so she can finally finish her degree. (I know an amazing lady who is currently doing this!  Love her!)

Here's the thing about passions: we don't have to be absolutely incredible at something to pursue it--if it brings us joy, then we should do it!  Even if we only share it with a few family members or friends--we should do it. :)  It takes a lot of guts to get out of the cozy comfort zone and try something new, but MAN is it awesome!  I feel like the freakin queen of the world afterword. :)

Ok, confession time...here are my two secret passions:

First of all, I love to sing.  Like, a lot.  It's always been my secret ambition.  Being at home alone during the day with only my toddler, means I can belt to my heart's content!  (My poor downstairs neighbors...Sorry Amanda!)  And, Hayden loves to sing with me!  It's pretty awesome.  :)

From a tiny age, I was singing.  My mom says I sang recognizable tunes before I could speak.  And I grew up in a very musical family, so I learned a lot from my big sister, who can sing any harmony part.  I sang in tons of choirs and musical numbers, including many duets with my talented BFF Shandee.  I was always happy to be the alto to other singers, since I love harmony, but as I've gotten older and less timid, the idea of singing a solo no longer makes me want to vomit.  I think growing up and caring less of what others think of me has boosted my gutsy-ness too!  I recently dared myself to share a video on Facebook of my son and I singing. (Ok, mostly me...he quit singing when I started recording it!)  I was terrified to share it, and hoped that people wouldn't think I was just being conceited by sharing a video of myself, but everyone was SUPER supportive!  It was awesome...what a confidence boost. :)  And a couple months back, I got up and sang at an open mic night!  Afterward, I thought, "HOLY CRAP, what has happened to me?"  It was a major rush!  My next goal: to sign up for a 6 week vocal performance class this summer at the Performing Arts Center where I teach a couple of kids Art classes each week.  At the end, we have a recital and I'll have to sing a SOLO!!!  And, I REFUSE to let myself puke or pass out.  Ha, I probably won't have tons of breath support, since I'll be 3rd tri pregnant by then, but I figure NOW is the time to take the class, not after baby comes.

Now, don't get me wrong...my dream isn't to be some famous singer, crooning to sold-out crowds.  Not only does that only happen to one in a million (and I'm not like some phenomenal, miraculous singer) but I wouldn't want that lifestyle anyway.  Nope.  I just love to sing for the pure enjoyment of it.  I would LOVE to someday be part of a small Acapella group.  Oooh, singing those tight, sweet harmonies make chills go up my spine!  (Pentatonix and Peter Hollen are my fav Acapella singers...check them out if you don't know them!)

My second passion: I LOVE houses.  If I were to go back to school, I would study interior design and take architecture classes.  Currently, my husband and I are designing our dream home.  I don't really know what the crap I'm doing, but that doesn't stop me from spending HOURS (especially on road trips) drawing and hashing out the layout, rooms, furniture, colors, etc of this future home.  It is seriously so fun to me!   And, may I add, we are SO many years from being able to build a dream home, (student loan debt to our ears!) but dang it, we're going to be ready when the time comes! :)  Here are a couple of pics.

So those are two of my passions. :)  I have others, like doing other people's make-up, dancing and traveling, but singing and designing my dream home are my strongest passions right now.

Ya know, it can be tricky as a mom to figure out how much time to give to hobbies, or even part-time business ventures.  Sometimes I feel guilty for wanting to do anything else outside of my home/family.  But, I think there's a balance between two extremes--one side being the martyr mom who does nothing for herself and is run-down and sad, and the other being a mom who is so into her own interests that she's only giving her left-overs of time and energy to her family.  I don't want to be either.  No accomplishment in the world would ever make up for failing my family.

But, I believe it's totally possible to achieve our dreams a little at a time, while living a normal life!  God and my family are my number one priorities, but--ya know what?  Mom is a person too.  We are allowed to do things that we're excited and passionate about!  I believe that God gave us talents and strengths to enrich our lives, as well as others lives, and it's good for our kids to see us working hard to achieve worthwhile goals--what an example for them!

When I consciously try to fit in little snippets of time for these goals and hobbies, I feel so much more human and alive!  I feel rejuvenated--which makes me a happy mom instead of a resentful, impatient, bored mom. (Sorry if that sounds terrible...I'm SO grateful for my son and that I get to be home with him, but the day-to-day routine can get a little monotonous at times.  Some days it seems like my life will just be dishes and diapers FOREVERRRR.)  I'm grateful for blogging as a way for me to share my heart and connect with other women, and I can totally do it during my son's naps. :)  For my emotional well-being, fitting in these little moments of time for my interests are SO worth it!

I've also noticed that when I am spending even a little time everyday feeding my spirit, like reading from the scriptures for 5 minutes and kneeling for a heart-felt prayer before breakfast, my soul is more peaceful.  When I'm not taking the time to connect with God, I feel dissatisfied with life, no matter what's going on in it.

Another thing, I think it's ok if our passions evolve over time to fit our life circumstances.  When I was a kid, I would draw all the time, filling sketchbooks down in my room.  But, now--though I still love art--it feels more like work to me, since I was an art major in college and now I teach art professionally.

Doing art homework in college.

This is me teaching a teen art class.

One of the very few art pieces I've done since my college days.  It was for my brother-in-law's high school Art auction...it's of my sister-in-law, Alyssa.  I got to give it to her for Christmas! :)

Plus, not having my own space to do art makes it tricky with a toddler who is into EVERYTHING. So, I have to adapt and be ok with smaller, quicker art, and I don't pressure or guilt myself to make art when I'm busy with other things.  Drawing my Dream Home is basically my only artwork now-a-days. But, this summer I am taking a break from teaching, so before baby #2 comes and blows my mind, I have the goal to make 5 works of art!  YIKES!  We'll see if I can get my keester in gear.

I guess, for adults with families, it all comes down to the constant balance act.  Sometimes we have more times for our dreams, passions, hobbies, and loves, other times, not so much...like when you have an infant.  (ha, my only passion during those first few months is SLEEP!)  But, even working at small goals will bring us a lot of joy.  Cause dishes will always be undone the next day, another meal is always approaching, and the house never stays clean for long, but learning how to play an entire song on the violin is a goal that can be accomplished!  It's worth it to make the time for passions and interests, even when it's just easier to veg out after my son goes to bed and watch all 5 seasons of Drop Dead Diva on Netflix.  (Ha, I just finished it!  Dang cliff hanger!)  I mean, I LOVE to veg, but now and then I need to accomplish something cool. :)

Ok ladies, I am SO interested to hear...what are your secret dreams/interests/passions?  Be brave and let us know!  Is it tap dancing?  Yoga?  Do you want to write a fantasy trilogy?  Do you have killer invention ideas?  Do you yearn to learn an instrument?  Do you want to develop incredible culinary skills?  Do you want to travel the world?  Would you love to act in movies or on the stage?  Do you secretly want to start your own business?  Tell us! :)  And, I'd also love to hear your thoughts on finding a balance between pursuing your own interests while still keeping God/family as your highest main priority...cause it's not always easy!  :)

Well, friends, as always, please Like/Share if you enjoyed this post!  :)  And, if you're new to SOM, Welcome!!!  You can follow along by clicking the "Like" or "Join This Site" buttons....we have a lot of fun around here.  :)

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What Momma REALLY Wants.

By Amy

Hey friends!  So, I got an interesting invitation in my inbox last week from the peeps at Raise.com.  Ever heard of it?  It's a new marketplace to buy and sell gift cards on the web.  (I LOVE gift cards by the way...takes the pressure off those of us who are really sucky at thinking up gifts for others.  I'm talking about me.)

Anywho... right now at Raise.com, they are running an interactive campaign called, “Give Yourself a Raise.”

In their words, this campaign is about: "...The importance of rewarding yourself for all the hard work you put in every day.  We know how much work being a mom can be, and we want to focus on the importance of taking time out for you!  Whether it be something as simple as indulging in your favorite dessert, or buying a new pair of shoes, we want to hear about it!"

"Ok, cool!"  I thought, "Hmmmm...now, how do I reward myself?"

I thought for a minute. "Oreos.  No that's dumb.  What else?"  Then I thought, "Starburst Jelly beans.  And, if something realllly big happens, Papa Murphys."

Ughhh, seriously?  I reward myself with treats.  So, the same way you would motivate a potty-training toddler.  Or a dog.  I am so pathetic.

Oh, these jelly beans are evil.  They always give me a stomach ache, but I CAN'T...STOP...EATING...THEM! 

But as I thought about it more, I realized there's actually a different reward that I would give up all the Oreos and Hawaiian Pizza in the world for: getting to disconnect and veg out my brain.  That's what momma REALLY wants.  Chocolate, flowers, meh...just give me a few uninterrupted hours to zone out. (Sounds a bit depressing, but hear me out...)

I am a very social person--not much of an introvert.  As a kid, I never shut-up.  Even in college, a professor yelled at my friends and I in a huge art history lecture class for talking!  Ha!  Yeah, that was mortifying.  Basically, I've always craved being with people.

But having a child made me suddenly realize just how much alone/me time I had before...and how much I missed it.  Suddenly my time was not my own.  Like, none of it.  Peacefully snoozing in the middle of the night, sitting on the loo, right in the middle of something (everything!) --it was all fair game for this angry, red-faced little human to start hollering at me.  As a new mom, I started craving time where I could just disengage and not be meeting anybody else's needs.  Time when I could just relax.

Well, nowadays, I jealously guard his naptime and bedtimes, cause they mean "my time."  I will push myself to finish the dishes, clean up the house, finish my blog post, or prepare a lesson for one of my art classes, if the carrot dangling in front of me is the chance to chill.  Cause during the day, unless it's nap time, I can't 100% shut-off.  Toddlers need constant supervision.  (Or you end up with a half gallon of house paint on your living room carpet. *sob* True story.)  All day, I'm interacting.  I read books, wipe lots of snot and bums, sing songs, do crazy dances, answer questions, prevent disasters, kiss owies, avert tantrums, tell stories, set limits, repeat myself a million times, enforce time-out, make decisions and pick battles, laugh, coax, and listen.  Even in the car, when I used to veg out to music or just be quiet, now I'm talking to my son, singing, pointing out the "BIG truck!" and rocking out with him to the radio.  (His loves "Royals" ...he goes ca-ray-zyyy!  It's pretty freakin awesome.)  I genuinely enjoy (most of the time) spending my days with my fun, sweet, goofy son.  We're BOTH much happier than we were when he was a screaming infant, hallelujah!  It's just...when it's 8:00 pm and he's nestled in bed with a bink and a blankie...I'm spent.  My level of interaction is maxed.

Which, by the way, makes it that much more amazing that many women do it alone!  I'm lucky--my husband is an awesome, hands-on dad.  He takes care of our son when I teach art classes, and when he's home from school and work he always pitches in with dinner, clean-up, bedtime and playing with our son.  I can't imagine how spent single moms must feel at the end of the night!  My hat goes off to you ladies for all that you do.  Seriously.

So, after the magic hour of 8:00 when my baby is safely snoozing, I become super lame.

I either want to read a book, peruse blogs, watch Netflix, or cruise Facebook, Pinterest or Houzz (if you haven't heard of it, it's like Pinterest, but just for homes...SUPER addictive.)  Some nights I blog, but most evenings, writing my own blog post is next to impossible cause I am just maxed out, stupid, and the words don't come.  Thankfully, Patrick is naturally more of an introvert and is totally cool with just relaxing.  Apparently he doesn't mind that he married a lame-o.

It still kind of throws me off that I no longer want to party-it up every evening.  Back in the day, when I'd get a killer grade after working for many grueling hours over an art project, I'd go with my friends for a rowdy night at Taco Time.  (We'd take WAY too much of their delicious pellet ice and Pico de Gallo from the salsa bar.  Yeah, we were pretty wild kids...at a religious college in Small Town, Idaho...ha!)  Even a small achievement, like mustering up the courage to talk to the cutest guy in Geography 120, resulted in a long ice cream fest with friends to relive every delicious, awkward detail. When my husband and I were first married, we hung out a lot with other couples.  We'd go to a movie and the cheap theater and dinner at Costa Vida to celebrate triumphs, like when he was accepted into Grad school.  Or we'd just celebrate making it through a particularly rough week.  (Life was a bit stressful: he was a full-time student WHILE managing a restaurant and I was trying to survive my first year of teaching Jr. High, while pregnant and exhausted.)

But now, after a day full of "So THIS is what 'the terrbile twos' means." moments with my toddler, or when I try to do a cooperative group project involving 10 little art students and paint, I crave my sweatpants and the couch.

Don't get me wrong.  I still need/love a girl's night out, I adore going on a hot date with my hubby, and I enjoy having friends over for dinner...but I don't really want more than one or two of my evenings filled up in one week.  Cause I want my veg time.  It's ok, though...I've realized and accepted that I am lame.  It's fine!  Now and then I still get out and party it up, but right now, the real party is watching a show on Netflix, cuddling my hubby, and savoring a fist full of jellybeans.

So, there's the answer--I reward myself by doing a whole lotta nothing.  Revelling and basking and wallowing in the joy of accomplishing diddly--and feeling blissfully un-guilty about it.  

Cause it doesn't mean you don't love your life and family if you need a little time to escape every day.  It means that mom is a human too. :)

Allright ladies, I admitted my reward...now it's your turn! :)  I'd love to hear...how do you reward yourself?  I'm so curious!  And, am I alone in my desire to veg out?  (Watch, you'll say "Working out is my favorite reward!" or "Scrubbing the bathroom helps me unwind!" and I'll feel like such a moron.  Haha!)

Also, don't forget to "Like" or "Join this Site" (buttons up on the right side) to party with us here at SOM....We have so much fun it's stooopid! :)  And if you liked this post, please Share!  

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Only Skin Deep

Today I'm....hesitant.  I've had a draft of this post for months, sitting, waiting for my courage to catch up with it.  I've wanted to talk to other people about this for a long time, but it's to embarrassing to bring up with a friend face to face.  And, a shout out on Facebook would be little too mortifying.  But, this is a safe place, and I'd love to hear your input!

I have to warn you though, this is not about some deep burning philosophical or emotional trial.  It's actually pretty shallow.  It's about my face.

Sometimes I have this daydream: if I had the chance to magically change one thing about myself physically, what would it be?  Would it be permanently staying the size I was when Patrick and I were dating?  Would it be to make my eyesight perfect?  Longer/thicker/curlier eyelashes?  Taller?  Perfectly white teeth?  Lusciously thick hair?  Zap the love handles?  (Seriously: muffin top, nobody likes you. GO away.)  Or like most mommas, restore the location of my (*ahem*) chest to where is was pre-baby?  Nope.  None of those would be my choice.

I would not hesitate--I would choose perfect skin.

Shape/weight--I feel like that's good for me to work at, so that I'm also caring for my internal health, while practicing self-control. (yeah, got a long way to go with that....I stilllll love my second helpings.)  Though it's not easy, I do have control over how fit I am.  When I need to work at it, I start regularly exercising and eating better, and I make slow progress.

But, my skin?  I have felt so powerless about it for a long time.

I have had problem skin since I was about 14.  I'm so lucky that I don't have the deep, scarring acne, I have little bumpy acne that totally covers my whole forehead at all times and is usually on my cheeks, hairline, a little on my nose, and chin.  Also, I have the visible pores and blackheads on my nose. (Gross.) There are times when my skin is worse than others, but rarely is it clear.  (Except for my second tri of pregnancy with Hayden...freakin' glorious skin!!! Hmmm, maybe I should get pregnant again. haha!)  And, I don't really have many pics that illustrate how bad my skin was at its worse, cause I was very meticulous about putting on my cover-up (or karate chopping any fool who tried to take a pic of me before I'd gotten ready in the morning.)

Taking stupid pics with Patrick's laptop when we were dating...You can't see my forehead, but my cheek shows it a bit.

Though I mostly have been able to cover up the redness, I always felt self-conscious about the bumpy, unhealthy texture of my skin, and never wanted people to get too close up to me.  I longed for "natural" and "glowing", but instead hid under caked-on foundation.  I was terrified to go swimming with friends.  Overnight trips sent me into major worries.  I never wanted people to see me without makeup.  Also, I was hard on myself.  When I looked in the mirror, I thought, "You look like a leper."  I'd joke to friends and family, acting like it wasn't that big of a deal to me: "Time to quarantine me.  I've got the Small POX!"  During the worst times, it was hard to put myself in front of people.

As I got older and more confident, my self-esteem didn't come as much from what I looked like, but from who I was.  But, still it bothered me that when everyone else was getting over their bad teenage skin, I was a 24, then 25 then 26-year-old, who was still regularly breaking out.  Wasn't it supposed to taper off at 18?

When I was dating Patrick (23 and 24 yrs old), he wanted to take me to Wyoming to visit his family.  I didn't want to spend the night because I didn't want them (or Patrick) to see me without makeup on.  I was so scared he wouldn't think I was pretty anymore.  So, no joke, I got up at 6:00 on a Saturday morning, showered and got all ready, got back into my pjs and lay in the guest bed, waiting for everyone else to wake up.  Ha!

When we were engaged, Patrick came swimming with my family; since my make-up was washed off, I could barely look him in the eye on the car ride home.  I didn't want him to be disgusted by my skin.

For our wedding, my mom gently suggested that I cut bangs, so my skin wouldn't be distracting in all those close up wedding pics.  I did, and I still have them today.  I actually like them, and I worry less about my stinkin forehead!

The maddening part of the problem?  There's like 1 MILLION theories, ideas, and advice claiming to fix bad skin--and I have tried many.  Get a sun-tan, wear sunscreen, you have too much oily foods in your diet, change your pillow case every night, go dairy-free, don't wear make-up, don't use hairspray, wash your face a lot, don't wash your face too much, stay away from heavy creams, lotion your face every night....and on and on.  Then there are the products.  You could spend a fortune on different creams, pills, lotions, astringents with varied ingredients; every time, your hopes rise, thinking this could be THE ONE, just to be dissapointed again.  It's hard when well-meaning friends confidently tell you what WILL work--but your skin may react totally different from theirs.  I've tried prescription cures too, with not much change. (Though I never tried Acutane.  It seemed a bit harsh for me, since I didn't get the deep, scarring acne.)  So, my bathroom cupboard was filled up with only-a-little-gone products while my skin continued to be a pain. 

Experimenting with your face is NO fun.  Each product says "it takes at least two weeks" for any real results.  If it doesn't go well, then for two whole weeks (often longer), you are stuck looking like raw hamburger: visible results for all to see.  And, I know it seems shallow, but think of it: your face is who you present to the world.  I want people to remember me by my happy smile or pretty eyes, not be distracted by the poison-ivyish appearance of my skin.

For the past few years, I've given up on trying new cures.  I just got tired of it.  So, I've continued using ProActiv since the beginning of college.  It's decent.  My skin isn't great, but, could (and has) been worse.  I'm scared to stop using it, though it's expensive, cause I don't want to mess up my face BIG time.

Despite my face worries, I like my features.  I'm no model by any means--I don't have a rockin jaw line, striking cheekbones, or full, luscious lips, but my face is...me.  I really don't want to look like a model, or someone else.  They are the features I was born with; they come from my genes and the parents that I love.  But, the bad skin isn't me.  I feel like it's a sickness my face got when I was 14, and it never went away.

Over the years, I convinced myself, "People don't notice as much as think they do.  You're blowing this out of proportion."

Then, while visiting my niece, she points up at my face, with a concerned look and said, "Owies." ...several times.  I was so embarrassed.  Another niece watched me put on make-up in the bathroom mirror when I visited her family.  Afterward she said, "You look a lot prettier with your make-up.  I can't see those red dots anymore."  Oy.  Just last month, another niece proudly handed me a picture she had drawn of me.  And, across my forehead, she drew little red bumps.  I said, "Oh, you don't need to draw those on there."  She said, "But I want it to look like YOU!"

Ouch.

It shouldn't have been a big deal and I tried to laugh it off, but I felt a little sick.  Is this how other people see me, but unlike a little kid, they just don't say it?

The very word "ACNE" sounds so ugly.  It brings to mind a gangly, greasy haired, b.o. smellin high school boy who avoids all forms of personal hygiene.  Now and then, I've even heard people say, "They are broken out cause they aren't staying clean enough."  Argghhh...since 14, I've showered everyday and washed my face twice a day.  Even now, if I don't, my face erupts into a scary mess by the next morning.  On camping trips, I've washed my face in the freezing cold with bottled water, just to escape those consequences.  Yet, I had friends with perfect skin wearing three-day-old makeup!  Not cool, man.

Thankfully, in the past few years, I've become more comfortable in my skin.  Here I am, 27-years-old and it still acts up--but it doesn't bother me nearly as much as it did back when I was in high school and college.  A lot of that comes from the fact that I have a good husband who loves me and tells me I'm a hottie from time to time.  :)  And he didn't scream in horror and run for the hills like I imagined when he first saw me without makeup.

But, even before meeting Patrick, I was finally accepting the fact that I just don't have great skin.  However, it doesn't define me.  I know that I am a good worthwhile person.  That doesn't come from my looks.  It comes from the fact that I am God's child.  I try to be kind and love others and be the best wife/mom/friend/daughter I can be.  I have gotten through really hard things, and I've accomplished some incredible goals!  And, I feel confident in who I am.  

For years, I imagined that all anyone saw when they looked at me was my splotchy skin, but now, I am just happy to meet new friends, socialize, and enjoy people.   

It makes a huge difference--when I'm reaching out to others, and trying to make THEM feel comfortable, I forget to focus on MY insecurities.  I feel good about myself cause I'm reaching out!

Ya know what's interesting?  I've found out over the years that most people have something they are very insecure about.  They have a lisp, or they feel awkward making conversation when they meet someone, or they wish they were thinner, or they hate the gap in their teeth.  And, you know what?  Lots of people have zits.  Not just me.  I probably noticed it on myself WAY more than anyone else did.

I read about a women whose face was badly scarred from a fire, but she still makes the most of her life, cheerfully raising her children and reaching out to others through a well-kown blog, though she looks completely different than she did before.  (I wish I could find her blog again. Anybody know who I'm talking about?)...UPDATE:  Her name is Stephanie Nielson and her blog is called "NieNie Dialogues"...she is amazing.  Go take a look.  I felt seriously grateful for my skin, and humbled by her courage after reading her story.  Seriously...Dang: what an amazing woman.  I admire her SO much for continuing forward even when faced by such an enormous and painful trial.  I feel pathetic and shallow for even worrying about something as trivial as some zits, when I have pretty good health otherwise.  It's just my darn human insecurities that whisper, "You're not good enough."

Thankfully, those thoughts are rare now, but they still surface when my skin is being particularly belligerent.

My goal is to be comfortable in my skin, even thought it's less than perfect.  Cause I know who I am, and beauty truly is much more than skin deep.  I hope I can always help others to feel good enough and beautiful, even when they're having a hard time believing it.  Especially those with bad skin.  OHHH my heart goes out to those with deep acne...especially boys who can't really cover it up at all.  I want to hug them and tell them, "Oh, it sucks so bad, but YOU are worthwhile.  Hold your head up, child!"

SO, now that I've spilled my guts about fighting my biggest physical insecurity, what about yours? 

It would mean alot if you shared.  If I actually get the guts to post this, I'll be surprised.  If I do, it's so much easier when people respond rather than having my words echo awkwardly into an empty room.

My friends, whatever insecurities you have, they do NOT define you.  You have worth, no matter what society, cruel people, the mirror, or even yourself says.  You are God's child, He made you, He loves you, and He sees your heart, not the size of the body or the zits on the skin or the gap in the teeth.

You are beautiful.  It' time we all start believing that, don't you think?

Thanks for reading! 
Love, Amy

Ps. If you could magically change one thing physically about yourself what would you change?  How do you rise above your insecurities?  Also, If you have struggled with skin issues, how did you fix it?  I'm always interested in hearing others' ideas.

Please comment,"Like," or "Share" if you appreciated this post!  Thanks! :)

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When the Fog Lifted: My Journey Overcoming Postpartum Depression

By Maddie
Intro by Amy

This topic is a heavy one; I'm so glad Maddie was willing to share her experience with P.P.D.  This topic hits close to home for me, cause I struggled when Hayden was born, though I wanted to seem like I had everything under control.  But, really--I was a mess.  That's why when I read Maddie's story, I bawled.  I ached for her.  It was hard to hear about my happy, easy-going friend going through such a dark time.  Even my few weeks of "baby blues" was enough to reduce me to a sobbing-my-eyes-raw, over-reacting, can't-feel-happy wreck...the thought of her going through that for months breaks my heart.  But...I was also SO happy to hear she was able to overcome it and find joy in her life and family again!  Seriously, she is so cool.  Let me tell you about her.  

When Maddie and her two sisters moved into my high school, they created quite a stir.  First of all, new kids were a big deal in our small school and second, they were cute.  Maddie was in my grade.  It was pretty funny watching her walk down our hall: Boys craned their necks and asked, "Whoah...who's THAT?" while girls eyed her suspiciously--not happy about a pretty new girl on their turf.   I didn't care, cause I didn't date anyway.  I can't remember exactly how we became friends, but she was funny, cool, nice, and good at art...my kinda friend!  All through computer class we got in trouble constantly for talking and laughing with the goofy boys we sat by.  Maddie was so easy to talk to; we quoted Sponge Bob together and drew really stupid cartoons.

It's been fun to see pics of her little fam on facebook; I know she is such a fun and loving mom.  Knowing that she overcame such a dark struggle, deepens my respect and admiration for this awesome momma!  Whether you (or someone you love) has dealt with P.D.D. or any other kind of depression... or if you just appreciate a walk in another's moccasins...read Maddie's story.
-Amy


First off, I want to stress how much I love both my kids. They are seriously the sweetest, easiest kids in the world. And my hubby! Oh, don’t even get me started! He’s kind of a big deal; the bees-knees, the peanut to my butter, my best friend, the one who can make me laugh harder than anyone else, I am so lucky I get to be married to him; and I am so thankful my kids get to call him their daddy. He is just the best. If you asked me a few months ago, I probably wouldn’t have said that, though.

When I had Tytan everything was so EASY. We had a scare with him only weighing 4 ½ pounds at birth, but other than that, it was great. I remember thinking - “what are all those other mom’s complaining about?! This is a piece of cake! I am awesome!” He has slept through the night since he was 2 weeks old and has always been so sweet and lovey; I wanted to have a million kids after that! Then little Miss Zoey was born. I was so proud of myself - I sewed her entire bedding set, painted her room and had lots of meals and cookies in the freezer. I had a super easy pregnancy and delivery, and she was beautiful and healthy. Everything was great and we were so thrilled to have our chunky little lady home! I settled into fabulous two-kidded bliss. Once again, I thought I was super-mom… until all I wanted to do was sleep. I figured it was just from having a new baby so I didn’t worry about it at first.

I started noticing that the only time I would get up to do anything was when the kids needed to eat or get their diapers changed. I stayed in my pajamas all day, never did my hair, and most days I didn’t even bother brushing my teeth. (Poor Jake, it’s a good thing he was at work and missed most of this!) The only time I got ready was if I knew someone was coming over - then it was a mad dash to pick up the house. It may sound stupid, but I really can’t remember most of what happened from when Zoey was 3 to 9 months. I missed it all. It’s like I was a zombie, just distant and detached from everything. Even though I know it wasn’t my fault, it was my pesky hormones; I sometimes still feel like I was the world’s worst parent.

I do remember feeling super anxious, frustrated and crying or yelling ALL. THE. TIME. Trying to get anything done was exhausting. Just getting the kids dressed was a huge feat. I would usually end up chasing Tytan around, stressing that we were going to be late, scream at him for not listening to me, then crumple on the floor and bawl because I had made him cry. I was losing weight like crazy (Which at the time I thought was great, but definitely not healthy!) I felt like something was off, but I kept pushing the feeling away. Anytime someone would ask if I was doing okay I would get defensive.

I normally love my in-laws, but for a while I hated them. I thought my mother-in-law was out to get me and that my sister in-laws were trying to one-up me. I was convinced they were talking behind my back, telling Jake how awful of a wife/mother I was and that he should leave me. I quit talking to my sisters and my parents, who I normally call almost every day. My oldest sister has struggled with depression her whole life, and when I finally asked her about it, she said “It feels like you just want to run away; just give up, drop everything and leave.” I don’t know why I didn’t just talk to her in the first place, but I was too proud, I didn’t want to admit to those closest to me that I wasn’t the perfect wife and mom that I always strived to be. I think it was especially hard for me since things had been so great up until then.

Jake kept asking if I was alright and I kept telling him “I’m fine, really!” Just so he would leave me alone. Finally my father in law pulled him aside one day and asked what was up. He told Jake he had to make me go to the doctor because something wasn’t right. When Jake came home and told me what his Dad said, I was embarrassed enough to finally call and make the appointment. I bawled on the phone to the poor receptionist. I should’ve been embarrassed but I didn’t care. They were able to fit me in the next day and I went in, wild-haired, teary eyed, and feeling so anxious I wanted to jump out the window. I bet I looked nuts. I can’t remember if I was wearing sweats or jeans. Probably sweats.

I bawled the whole time I talked with my doctor. I was worried he couldn’t understand me, that he thought I was drug-seeking, or that he’d run away, screaming at the sight of me ugly-crying in his office.  Instead, he said “You, my dear have post-partum depression. I don’t want you to feel like you’re a horrible person, or that you’re the only one this has happened too. You are still a great mom and a great wife. I know that. We just need to get you fixed up so you know that too.” So he put me on Celexa. He told me it would take two weeks for my family to notice a difference, and about a month before I noticed anything.

When it kicked in, it was like a fog had been lifted! I was finally happy, but not over the top way-too-happy. I was on it for about two months, and then it quit working. I was back to screaming at everybody, just now I wasn’t bawling while I did it. I went back to the Doctor and he said there are a few types of post-partum depression, and I had two of them - the crying one and the angry one. The Celexa had fixed the crying part, and taking Prozac would fix the angry part. I told him I didn’t want to be on any more pills, I didn’t feel like they were helping, and I didn’t like the side effects. They made me nauseous and gave me headaches, I bruised like a peach, and I didn’t want any lovin’ from my hubby. (Once again, poor Jake!) He asked me to just try it for a few weeks… And darned if he wasn’t right! (Weird, it’s like he went to medical school or something!) I only had to take it for a few weeks, until I felt back to normal. I finally quit taking them just last month, and I feel like I’m able to handle my stress and anxiety. I’m not saying that everybody needs to go out and get some happy pills once they have a baby; that’s not it at all. I hate taking pills, and I try my hardest not to go to the doctor, but it helped me to notice when I was acting crazy, and now I can handle things so much better.

So how do I handle it? Prepare for the worst! I still get worked up when we’re trying to leave the house. There’s no way around it. I swear, when I say “Okay, let’s go out to the pick-up” my kids hear “Everybody, lose your shoes, poop your pants, and start crying!” I have to start getting things ready waaaay sooner than normal. I try to set their clothes out at night for the next day; my pick-up is full of snacks for those temper-tantrums on the freeway that would normally make me want to drive into the nearest guardrail; and I never leave the house without extra diapers, wipes, blankets and sippy-cups. I officially have a “mom-purse” - the size of a small country; full of toys, books, food, band aids, stickers, a grocery sack for dirty clothes when someone wets their pants, etc. Some days I feel like Mary-Poppins, just without the magic umbrella.

Instead of yelling at my kids for every mess they make, now I try to look at it from their point of view. If I was two years old, heck yes, cereal would be fun to dump all over the kitchen floor! I get it! But I’m not going to let them run wild and do whatever they want just so they’ll think I’m nice. I’m their mom and I love them-I want them to grow up to be good people and make good choices. They’re not going to learn that what they’re doing is wrong if I just scream at them instead of explaining it to them.  My mom said it’s like yelling at them for breaking the rules, without telling them what the rules are. I am thankful I was able to get my hormones back in check. No one told me how hard it was to go from one kid to two - I can’t sit and play patty-cake with one child all day, because the other one will burn themselves on the fireplace, dislocate their arm, climb on top of the fridge, or spill hot pink paint all over the kitchen. (Trust me, these have all happened…)

What helped me the most is learning to be patient and rearranging my priorities a little bit. A friend at work told me “Even if the house looks like a bomb went off, the sink is full of dirty dishes; and you haven’t showered in days, oh well. Remember that your kids need you more.  As long as you’re taking care of your kids, Momma’s doing a good job.” 

There have been plenty of times where the house is trashed, I’m covered in spit-up; feeling sorry for myself, while rocking one of the kids. But then they look up and smile a big, gummy grin and I just think to myself “Momma’s doing a good job.” I am so thankful for my patient husband and my sweet, sweet kids. It was awful to go through post-partum and I hope anyone else out there who is going through it, or is just having a rough time will ask for help. It may be embarrassing admitting that you can’t do it all, but I promise it is so worth it. And even when you feel like your world is falling apart around you, just remember your little sweethearts, and tell yourself “Mommas doing a good job.” Because I know you are. 

-Maddie

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And, all you mommas...did you experience Postpartum Depression?  How did you get through it?  We'd love to hear your experiences! 
 -Amy

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