HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Welcome to 2005. I'll write more about the festivities soon, but it is truly time for bed now.

Until then, just remember.....Jayson is the Boston Blvd. Idol.

bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeckagh........

We went to Andiamo tonight for Billy's work Christmas party (yes, late, but better late than never). I feel sick. I think my stomach needs to be pumped.

The food was excellent. If you like filet mignon, this stuff was like BUTTAH (you must be thinking SNL's "Coffee Talk" to get the right effect there). But I do not lie when I say I should've stopped eating before my meal actually got there. We had two plates of appetizers, bread and olive oil, salad, a plate of pasta, then our steak (YUM), then coffee and dessert. It's all catching up to me now. Holy shmoo.

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On the bright side, Billy got my XM radio up and working today. I am a fan.... it really didn't take long to determine that.

Longitudinally IS a word.

I stand corrected. Thank you, Google.

Feet are gross and this doctor is damaged.

Verbatim, this is what I got:

"He has six verrucae that have been constant, with a severe case of Athlete’s foot, and a fungus with an infection in his webspaces of the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd intermetatarsal spaces, with welts of verrucae running longitudinally just superior to the webspaces."

I'm not sure, but I think a sentence this long should be against the law. Plus, it means the dude's foot is nasty. When did dear Dr. X have time to catch his breath before the next run-on sentence?? And even though it checked up okay on my spellcheck, I am willing to bet some cash that "longitudinally" ain't a word. Just sayin'. Yep, tonight I am Grammar Nazi.

Anyways, I am pulling my hair out, and sharing with you. They really should make grammar classes a MUST in med school... Okay, okay... I know they do, but apparently doctors don't pay attention in those classes.

I feel so guilty.

I went to get my hair cut today because it was so nappy--and it was just time. Last haircut I got was a few weeks before Hunter was born, so sometime in late January/early February of 2004.

I go there, tell her I want to get a lot cut off.... long hair is too much work for me. She start talking about my old hilights, and what I want to do about those. I tell her that if she's got time, I'd redo my hilights. She's got time. Oh, and could you also wax my eyebrows--the unibrow's disturbing. And don't forget I ran out of my shampoo and conditioner (trying not to break out into a re-enactment of the bathtub scene from Billy Madison). And a tip.

THREE hours later and every red cent I was given for Christmas, I'm outta the place. I feel guilty about it, so I'll use my Christmas money on it even though I was planning on buying an XM boombox and some winter riding pants (if that gives you an idea of the price....). Should I feel guilty about spending so much on myself even though it's traditionally only an annual thing? I am having an internal battle about it. It was horrible timing money-wise, I guess, except that I wanted it cut before our vacation. At the same time, I am feeling lousy about myself, so it seemed like something that was almost necessary. I know this kind of thinking won't jibe in a man's brain, but it makes sense in mine.

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Billy told me he'd be home around 8. Here it is, 9:15, and he's not answering his phone--which means he is still in a hospital.... Meaning the earliest he'll be home is 10:15. Can I beat him????? Please??? All I'm saying is that he should call if he's going to be hours later. I had plans to run up to the store when he got home, but I guess that's gonna be a no-go.

I'm cranky, and I think I'm going to go to sleep--nice new hair and all.

Oh, the silly things horses do....

When horses with stockings on their ears attack!

Check out the progression of pictures involving a horse wearing Christmas stockings on its ears and another horse who wants absolutely no part of it. I was crying, I was laughing so hard at this.

For a little history, the horse with the stockings belongs to the sister of a girl who posts on a horse forum I visit. The horse that is freaking out is actually older (22 years old), but you wouldn't be able to tell that from his reaction(s). The pictures progress over several pages, so make sure you check all of them out.

I've always wanted to do something like this....

Hugo in the Big City

On the road again.......

My XM radio is in transit once again, no longer doomed to live its life in the Louisville airport. Yay.

Billy, on the other hand, got his hooked up last night at about midnight.... So, yes, he's very excited about that. =) I think his stations were Talk (The Right Channel), the 90s channel, and something else that's slipping my mind right now. I really think he shoulda put the Disco channel on there, but he disrespectfully declined. Hum.

My only comment is that when I called to activate his radio their hold message was talking about the Playboy channel. I don't even want to think about that, especially in terms of people driving around in cars listening to that.

A very wonderful Christmas present!

What a surprise we had when we rolled up to my mom's house and found my nephew Nathan inside! For those of you not family, Nathan has been in Iraq for the last 11-ish months. He is HOME. Well, in the states, at least, until he is done with his enlistment (several months). I don't think any of us could have asked for a better present this year (or any!). Welcome home! God bless you!

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I am teaching junior church this month, with today being my last lesson. It has been a difficult thing for me because not only is the range of ages broad (approximately 5 years old to about 4th or 5th grade), but the subject matter is difficult. Also, I've never even witnessed a junior church lesson before, so I wasn't sure what level I should be bringing this down to (the curriculum doesn't say what age it's geared to, so I am playing it by ear. Sometimes the kids get a concept, sometimes it's so far out of reach I have to abandon it). We are studying Proverbs (wisdom and foolishness), and my first lesson was about the importance of reading Proverbs and the importance of wisdom. How do you teach on that for 20+ minutes? Despite the fact that there were FIVE helpers in the class, no one was with me making sure the kids were quiet (they were working on a craft we didn't get time to do anyway), so what probably should've taken 20 minutes really lasted about 35. Grrr.

Last week went far better. Instead of the 5 or 6 kids I had the first week, I had 11. Instead of five helpers not helping, I had one helper who was. The concept was a little bit easier for me to get across: We must put off foolisness if we are going to put on wisdom. The wording of that statement is awkward, but it is how they have been learning it, so I think it works in some strange way. I had to battle with kids blurting out answers despite raising their hands--and the older kids seemed to be the worst (with the exception of Logan, who thinks he can talk because I'm his mom). Hmmm.

Today's lesson is about a type of fool, the mocker. It's going to be another stretch, but hopefully will turn out okay.

I think I may be stressing people out by foregoing the crafts to actually finish my lesson, but, in my opinion, I don't think the crafts are worth it. The crafts end up in the trash, usually, so I might as well get my point through instead of saying, "Oops! I need to stop now so we can glue these popsicle sticks together!"

Or maybe I'm feeling too important for my own good. =)

Read no further if you don't care about "women problems" (PMS, post-partum depression)!!

Let me say a belated Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to all of you, dear blog peoples. Hope you and yours had a wonderful one!

I write what I'm about to write not to gross people out, but to document what in the world is going on with me. Maybe someone will have some insight, maybe not. Maybe someone will read this someday and say, "Yeah! That sounds familiar!", and by doing that I can be kind of a source of empathy in some way. So, again, I repeat... If you don't want to hear about *that time of the month*, stop reading this post.

I woke up this morning, Christmas morning, feeling fine other than a slight headache. We opened our presents, made breakfast, and ate in that order. I discovered shortly afterwards that I got another not expected and not-so-welcome present this morning. The up side is that it'll be over in time for our vacation (I was worried), the down side is that it was approximately four days earlier than expected. Oh well. It made things from this week piece together, though, and this is my true reason for sharing.

In a post earlier this week, I noted that I had been feeling better, on the whole, despite nagging finances due to our slow slow slow loan process and a husband who is gone far more than he is home. In that same post I went into a condensed novel about how much I miss my horses, ending up with me crying my eyes out at my keyboard and feeling generally woe-is-me-ish. I do believe that was Tuesday. Wednesday I was too busy to think about my feelings, so I put it off until Thursday.

Thursday I had a meltdown. Billy was working late, and Lucas was over playing with Logan (thankfully, nicely, with the exception of the post about me chasing them and the dogs down the road). I can't put my finger on what set me off, but there were some moments when I had to lean against the wall, I was crying that hard. This crying lasted for about half an hour, then it seemed to pass and I was able to joke around with the boys while I made an unplanned dinner for me, Logan, AND Lucas. My ability to joke to anyone other than a blogger screen has been MIA for a good number of months, so this was hopeful.

Going back to the crying... The crying episode was, again, focused around my horses (or lack thereof)... but, on a grander scale, about how I feel like I'm lacking identity in the grand scheme of things. These are the years of life when I should look back and say, "Look how pretty I used to look!" or "Look what wonderful things happened!" To be completely honest, with the exception of Hunter being born, I'd rather just forget about most of this year. I have never had a harder year in every aspect of my life.... and while it may be God testing me to see what I'll do, I feel like I'm on the losing end of a battle I'm not prepared for. I don't feel good about myself, and besides watching my babies grow, I am not feeling like I have my own purpose or that I am making many memories that don't tug my heart in a gazillion directions--none of which make me smile.

Friday I had a migraine. Billy was home. When I say that Billy was home, I mean in the general sense. He and Logan took off Christmas shopping at about 10 a.m., and didn't return until 3 p.m. I point this out because I needed to go grocery shopping for some last-minute items for my mom (and us, so we could eat Christmas Day), plus I needed to get a last present for Billy from the kids. By the time I was able to get out to the store, it was 5 p.m. I have my cart full at Farmer Jack's when they announce they are closing in five minutes. I don't even try to go to the other place I was attempting (Home Depot). What this means is that I spent another day doing what I need to do until Billy comes home and I can attempt my list. My list seems to always come last, though, so I usually don't get my hopes up.

I go to the Christmas party 10 minutes prior to its start to drop off my things, and run home to dress in something nicer. My hair is not done. Every picture I see of myself on John & Melinda's website makes me cringe. I look and feel horrible. My makeup is in a box somewhere, and has been there for approximately four months. Makeup cannot fix what feels the worst about me.

Family functions are a mixture of emotions for me, lately, because as I "deal" with my depression, I also deal with sort of a social anxiety. I distance myself from jumping into most conversations except with those people I talk to on a more regular basis. I seem to avoid my Aunt Ruth's children except to give the cursory hug. I don't know why. The only one I talk to in any depth besides maybe John or Mat is my cousin Donnie. I look at the pictures on The Maclachlan website, and I see the big groups of people talking. The pictures I am in are not in those groups. I then go home thinking that I didn't follow through on getting to know anyone better....

I finish Christmas Eve by baking cookies for Santa, cleaning my house up, and calling my friend Laurel in California. I talk to her for an hour, which is longer than I talked to everyone at the party combined. It makes me feel freakish, but I love Laurel. Her husband is leaving for Iraq in the immediate future. Then I wrap presents and watch "A Christmas Story" alone until 3:30 a.m. The plan was to do this with Billy, but he has fallen asleep in bed sometime between 12:30 a.m. and 1:30 a.m. I wrap presents alone every year, so this year does not break tradition (unfortunately).

I wake up feeling okay until I make my grim discovery. And the pieces of the puzzle come together, as much as they ever will. Hormones are very powerful things, and pregnancy can wreak havoc on a woman (and a man, so I've heard) physically and emotionally. A lot of the negative things I've blogged about can be attributed to either after-effects of pregnancy (i.e., postpartum depression) or stress. However, some of these things are legitimate problems that are only made worse by the other things I feel. God apparently needs me to deal with something, or is trying to teach me something because this is, hands down, coming real close to the lowest point in my life despite my prayer and reading. Sometimes I feel like maybe I am going through what I am going through because God is trying to teach Billy something--and I don't know if He works that way, but if so, I hope Billy figures it out soon... I don't honestly think he's paying that close of attention.

A while back, I made the observation that it feels like everything comes second to my husband's job. He admits it is true, but doesn't think it is wrong because there are bills to be paid. If we do not come second to the job, he loses the job (this is a re-hash, not a direct quote). When I point out my despair (which I usually don't; I usually just mope about--it's a gift), he always goes to the extreme and retaliates with, "Fine! I'll quit my job!" This is infuriating to me, because even though I want him to find a new job, I don't know how that's even a possibility until we sell the old house. I am suffering because he is on the defensive and thinks how he goes about his day is quite alright for his family. Maybe this is all he knows how to do right now? It is a burden I am not sure I know how to carry, so I'm trying not to carry it.... but am failing....

My point of this rambling is that I had been raised with an ideology that depression is overlooked as something that can't happen to you if you're a Christian.... I'll be the first to say I'm not a fabulous Christian--I am just getting by on most days--but this is a problem I am feeling.... and I attribute it, at least in part, to my hormones still struggling to stabilize. Postpartum depression is a topic that is taboo, and no one admits they've dealt with until years after they've normalized; but that is the reason I am writing this now. It is where I am in my life. I'm not looking for sympathy, but I'm letting people know this is how it is. This is what I remember, what I feel. My thought processes aren't running the way they probably should, but maybe someone else out there has felt this, too, and has been too ashamed/afraid to give these feelings a name or a voice.

And the term "baby blues" is just stupid. That makes it sound so cute.