At a glance I am a Catholic SAHM to two kids and three babies in Heaven. I like to write about Catholicism, homemaking, being a Mom, living with three mental disorders, and the like. ( more?) Contact meBooks read in 2011Books read in 2012
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One of the things I love about This New House is the room. We are finally “settled in” and so now I get to roll up my sleeves and tackle some of the more long-term projects. One of the things I have been dieing to take care of are toys. The majority of the toys were in storage, but now that we’ve moved, they’ve come out of storage. Lest I go insane, I decided after a month of observation; it was time for order and sanity to rein in the toy area.
First, I sorted. Toys that were broken were tossed. Toys that are geared for infants are back in storage. That left a wide variety of age-appropriate toys out. This is where the month of observation came in so handy.
After everything was sorted, I watched the kids play. I watched what they played with, how they played with it, how often they played with it, and so on. Toys that never were played with were donated. I did keep some that I can use for rotation, but the vast majority of the toys left the house.
The toys that are left follow trends – the kids love any and all kind of make-believe toys: dolls, blocks, cars, dollhouses, Legos, the play kitchen, bead toys, puzzles, stuffed animals – that sort of thing. The flashy-flashy toys they tended to play with for a day or two then lost interest in. So, most of the flashy-flashy toys were also donated, but a few kept (such as the Leapster 2 the kids received for Christmas last year).
So now, the toys “for rotation” are in a storage bin in the basement. It’s not clear so the kids can’t see in it and whine for “that toy”. The toys that are heavily played with fit in one – ONE drawer in their room, and puzzles in ONE other drawer.
Everyone is loads happier with this arrangement. I found all of Elise’s dollhouse people and she’s been playing with them for hours. They go to Mass, have fights, make the dog get out of the car, sleep, have babies, all sorts of things. I find this kind of play of Elise’s so fascinating because I know this is how she processes her life. Sometimes I recognize myself in the dollhouse mama and it’s a REALLY good way of seeing how I’m coming off to Elise.
It’s also easier to pick up, because there’s less to pick up. The kids fight less because while Elise is playing dolls, Bennie is usually playing with Hot Wheels. Or sometimes the Hot Wheels and the dolls all play together, which is even better. But, fighting has dropped a lot – especially fighting over toys. There still is the occasional drama over a toy, but not nearly as bad as it was.
Both kids can see what they have and not be overwhelmed with 496569803897 toy options. And the best part – when they’re bored with what’s upstairs, a quick switcheroo is like having new toys. Hooray!
Next on the chopping block is clothing. Oh God, have mercy. I don’t even want to think about clothing, for all four of us; for various seasons. But. It needs to be done, and like the toys; we’ll all be better off because of it. But that’s a later task. Right now I need to just relax!
I like to think I’m not totally insane for deciding that 0530 is a good time to wake up. In fact, I end up getting a lot accomplished. And, I’ve been faithful to that wake-up time for two weeks now.
It hasn’t been easy – waking up early means going to bed early. It also means getting out of bed – which is usually quite warm and into the day – which is usually not as warm as our bed is.
The coffee maker helps, as long as Greg or I remember to get it ready to brew at 0520. Greg, the always early bird, is usually up before my alarm goes off; and begins to unload the dishwasher while I drag myself out to the kitchen.
The best part of waking up (besides Mystic Monk in my cup)? The time with Greg. We’re (relatively) awake, and can discuss things that need to be discussed without virgin ears in the presence. Or we can pray Morning Prayer together. Or just sit and watch the sunrise. By the time the kids get themselves out of bed, I’m fed and watered, dressed, the kitchen is ready for the kid’s breakfast, I have a load of laundry in, bonded with my husband sans kids, I’ve prayed, read the daily Mass readings, and whatever else needs to be done. I have gotten a lot done, and I can focus on the kids totally as opposed to trying to multi-task.
It works for me. I don’t feel trashed in the evening, like I thought I would. I do admit, I “sleep in” on the weekends … usually up around 0630 or even (*gasp*) 0700.
There’s been a couple other posts about waking up early floating around the Blogosphere: one by Jen and the other by Brandon. I agree with both posts and the points they raise.
Waking up early works for me. It may not for you, and that’s OK. But, if you think you’d like to get up early – give it a shot. I’ll even send you a reminder email if you want, once I peel myself out from under my luscious down comforter.
While I may live in Podunkville, every now and then I get surprised as to what is found in my little town. The latest discovery is a specialist in the Third Diagnosis. I met with her last week and covered much ground. That meeting essentially confirmed what I had suspected – that the person I had been seeing for therapy wasn’t really working for me, and the specialist is someone I definitely need to see on a regular basis.
So, I’m in the middle of transitioning – which isn’t all that hard except for the paperwork to fill out, getting insurance information taken care of and ensuring that everything is squared away with the person I am no longer seeing.
The Specialist is excited because while she has many patients with the Third Diagnosis, there is a type of cognitive behavior therapy she has been wanting to use with someone who has the Third Diagnosis. However, her patients aren’t quite ready for it – but I am. So, we will be learning from each other in how this form of CBT helps the Third Diagnosis, the roadblocks that come up, and so on I’m excited, because I am so ready to get going with CBT and start feeling better.
Yesterday I had a huge attack of symptoms, not a panic attack though thank God. I know exactly what triggered it and therefore was able to send an email to the Specialist so she knows and we can work on handling symptoms. The medication takes the edge off, but the symptoms are there, so painfully there. The CBT’s goal is to help me cope with the symptoms so they don’t essentially debilitate me.
With that being said, do pray that the Specialist and I can work effectively together. And pray for me for courage, because the CBT is going to be hard at times, but it will be absolutely worth it.
One of the biggest things I hate about having panic attacks is that when I have them, they absolutely wipe me out for at least half a week. I don’t know what it is but I have a heck of a time recovering from them. It’s not that I’m non-functional, I am; but I’m so tired and hungry and just feel worn out until everything straightens itself out inside. It’s almost like shaking a snow globe – everything is chaotic but eventually it all calms down.
The past weekend I had a gigantic panic attack, probably one of the worst I’ve had in a long time. I was absolutely sure I was dieing, it felt as if I was dieing, and it lasted for what seemed like an eternity. I’m sure if that panic attack happened in public I would have been transported to the hospital immediately. Thankfully I had my anti-anxiety meds and Greg was helping me through it, but it’s still just so incredibly ugh.
I feel as if I’m just now getting back on top of things, feeling well-rested and back to normal.I could use some prayers, though; if anyone has a few to spare.
With that being said, I’m going to curl up with a nice cup of tea, a good book, and relax for the evening.
Another reason why I love the New Year is that everyone gets all excited about goals and setting them and (hopefully) achieving them. Over the years I’ve become more focused with my goals, rather than the ambiguous ones (“pray more”) or the impossible ones. Goals not met are still good for me to experience, because I can see what I’m lacking and that in itself can become a goal.
I told Greg the other week that if I have to be on not baby-friendly meds for any span of time of a few years or “for life” (that’s another post, but when the doctor who is very against long-term medication says “Kim, you may need this for the rest of your life”; you can be assured that it’s probably for a very good reason); that I don’t want to just be mopey and blah. The depression makes that way easier, and that’s just not fun. The Good Lord has handed me this Cross, and I still have to carry it. Wanking won’t change anything, so what’s the point.
I see this in the same light about Parkinson’s Disease. There is a (good) chance I’ll most likely develop it at some point in my life. It’s not certain though. And I don’t want to go through life thinking “what if! What IF!” I’d go insane. So, in the interim I want to live life intentionally – fully – so that (God forbid) if I do develop Parkinson’s, that I will have lived my life to that point in cheer, not fear.
So there’s my motivation. Let’s talk about some of my New Year’s Goals.
1. I want to get into some form of shape. I’m not talking losing weight here. I’m talking about exercising three times a week, just something to get myself moving (especially in the mornings). Exercise is good for depression and anxiety, and I’m assuming the Third Diagnosis since it’s also an anxiety disorder.
(Besides, Greg works out with weights every morning which is always nice and he’s some good-lookin’ motivation for getting myself into shape. Just not with weights.)
2. Blogging consistently. Now that I feel like a functional human being again, I want to get back in the saddle of my blog here. I really, truly love to write and find it very beneficial for me. My goal is two times a week – and I’ve been doing quite good for the last week. Or two. I think writing regularly will help me plow through writer’s block that crops up and just keep me in the habit.
3. Be more open with my mental health “stuff”. I’m talking mainly offline, but online, too. I’m in the camp of “if everyone keeps hush hushing this, everything will remain stigmatized.” And yes, I see the irony of not revealing the Third Diagnosis (afraid of stigma, hell0). I have heard way too many times in passing that “I don’t get why So-and-So is depressed, he has God in his life.” or “Just spend more time outside and all your problems will be cured!” or my favorite “Anyone who works in psychiatry is a complete idiot and you’re just being duped and made addicted to drugs that are essentially a placebo.”
So let me clear the air on a few things:
- I am not dangerous to anyone or myself.
- You will not “catch” what I have.
- Yes really, my mental disorders are due to an imbalance of brain chemicals. Outside factors influence them such as caffeine or stress, but at the core of my brain’s biology, there’s something a little awry.
- I don’t mind talking about it and if I know you well enough, I’ll be more than happy to tell you about the Third Diagnosis. I don’t mind answering questions, even if they seem weird or intrusive.
Knowledge is power, baby. And the more you know, the less “scary” mental health issues are.
4. Learn more about Elise and Benedict’s temperaments and parent them accordingly. Likewise, I want to learn about child development because a lot of what they’re going through is normal (such as Benedict’s incredible separation anxiety).
5. Pray more, wank less. Pretty self-explanatory, I think. 
Farmer John arrives at the Nativity on January 5th, announcing the arrival of the Wise Men on January 6th.
A most blessed Epiphany of the Lord!
One of the things I love about the New Year is that the blogosphere is abuzz with everyone’s favorite books from 2011, and their recommendations for books to read in 2012.
Allow me to jump on the bandwagon.
Last year I read 49 books. Which isn’t bad, considering if you look at my “Books of 2011” page, you can totally see when the depression took over my life (hint: it was August). I read a lot of good books, but there’s one that tops them all.
The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything by Fr. James Martin, S.J.
I almost didn’t finish this book because I was so depressed and this book is a bit long, and I didn’t know much about Ignatian spirituality and I am firmly monastic and St. Ignatius scares me and I actually had a Jesuit tell me to stop reading St. Ignatius’s Spiritual Exercises because I was asking WAY too many questions and we decided that it’s not in my best spiritual interest to read the Exercises right now. But, because I rarely not finish a book, I soldiered on with the Jesuit guide. I finished it, and then decided I would absolutely need to get a copy of it. And read it again (which I have).
If you’ve ever been depressed, you know the interior monologue of a depressed person usually consists of:
I’m no good.
There is nothing good about me.
Everything I do is wrong.
I am worthless.
I am unlovable.
With that in mind, I’m sure you can understand how words like this rocked my world:
“My biggest misconception was that I would have to change before approaching God. Like many beginners in the spiritual life, I felt I wasn’t worthy to approach God. … I confessed this … “What do I need to do before I can relate to God?” I asked. “Nothing,” he [Fr. Martin's spiritual director at the time] said. “God meets you where you are.” (page 81)
“In such “still small” ways as emotions, insights, memories, feelings, and desires, God speaks to us in prayer.” (page 133)
[on Ignatian contemplation] “Using my imagination wasn’t so much making things up, as it was trusting that my imagination could help to lead me to the one who created it: God.” (page 146)
And yes, perhaps I’ve heard these messages before but they never really sank in. It wasn’t until when I was so broken and open to God that they sank in. And have not removed themselves since.
Chapter Eleven, entitled “Surrendering to the Future” is all about obedience, acceptance, and suffering. God knows how deep the pain of the miscarriages are, the frustration with myself as I try and manage not one but three different “mental disorders” all while being a wife, a mom, singing in the parish choir, and just life in general. If I could quote the entire chapter, I would.
There’s something deeply Benedictine about St. Ignatius and Ignatian spirituality. Obviously, it has its differences but there is a lot of overlap and fleshing out of Benedictine spirituality. At least, that’s how I see it. It turns out there’s a reason for that:
“So in 1522, at the age of thirty-one, he made a pilgrimage to the Benedictine abbey in Montserrat, Spain, where with a dramatic gesture right out of his beloved books on chivalry, he stripped off “all his garments and gave them to a beggar.” Then, he laid his armor and sword before a statue of the Virgin Mary. (page 13)
Fr. Martin goes on to write that St. Ignatius spent a year in a small town nearby (Manresa) where he was subjected to something I’ve been subjected to myself: “a great spiritual dryness, worried obsessively about his sins, and was even tempted to commit suicide.” (ibid.)
Now, I’ve not been tempted to commit suicide anytime recently, so don’t go there. But the spiritual dryness, the obsessive worrying about his sins (aka, scruples) – been there, done that, bought the t-shirt. So, in a way, I feel like St. Ignatius “gets it” – as much as a soldier-turned-priest and founder of a religious order from the 16th century can understand a wife and mother in the 21st century. And not only does he “get it”, he let God use it and turn it into something totally snazzy.
So, after reading the Jesuit guide twice I can say that I feel like I know a little more about Ignatian spirituality, I still am firmly monastic but St. Ignatius isn’t scary at all (in fact, I feel down right chummy with him), I’m not depressed (thanks to good medicine, spiritual direction, frequenting the Sacraments, seeing a therapist, and self-care), and maybe at some point in my life I will actually read the Spiritual Exercises. In a perfect world, I would “do the Exercises” but until the Jesuits actually come to my little po-dunk town, I don’t think that will be happening any time soon. But I am asking God to arrange that, so let’s see what He does. 
Lacy over at Catholic Icing posted this very cute, very simple “jewel cake” for St. Basil’s day. We had a lot of fun assembling it and of course, eating it! Elise was especially thrilled with the jewels inside!
Our jewels waiting to be jewel-i-fied.
 Elise helping by making sure all the Jell-O is out of the box.
She also helped me put the jewels into a dish.
After some time in the fridge!
Ta-da! Pretty!
I found a can of spray whip creme in our fridge, and that’s what we used for our frosting. Tasty, fun, and different! We talked about St. Basil and learned a little bit about him, as well.
St. Basil, pray for us!
If I’m not returning phone calls or answering e-mail for the next year, blame Greg. For Christmas, he lavished me in some things that makes my heart go pitter-patter. Behold, I present to you:
Yes, I am truly understood by my husband.
If you’re curious, here are my goodies:
The Three Ages of the Interior Life Volume One
The Treasury of Catholic Wisdom
The Faith of Our Fathers
Self-Abandonment to Divine Providence
The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass
Sacred Space: The Prayer Book 2012
Shirt of Flame: A Year with St. Therese of Lisieux
St. Benedict and St. Therese: The Little Rule & the Little Way
The Glories of Mary
But wait, there’s more! Not pictured are:
Sacred Space for Lent 2012
Contemplatives in Action: The Jesuit Way
On that note, this will most likely be my final post of 2011. Have a safe New Year’s, and I will see you all in 2012!
So, it’s Christmas.
It’s been a fun Christmas, except for that dull ache inside me. It’s so hard not to have that ache, when the entire world is focused on the birth of an Infant. It’s hard not to think “boy, I would be 32 or 36 weeks pregnant right now … we would be preparing for our own baby.”
Yes, I have had multiple crying meltdowns over it all this past weekend. It’s so frustrating, especially since some people (well-intentioned) are beginning the “so, when are you going to have another?” questions.
How do you tell them that without injected blood thinners, carrying a child to term is a risky and (as we found out this summer) sometimes fatal proposition for the unborn baby?
How do you tell them that you’re now on a few medications that make having a baby Really Not A Good Idea – and that it may stay that way for a few years.
How do you tell them about the ache inside, the desire for another baby but the realization that it’s just not in God’s time right now?
How do you tell them about the isolation you feel? How you have to ‘get over it’ or ‘keep it together’, depending on who you’re with? How you (still) feel like a freak of nature, and that no one really understands (unless they’ve also been through multiple miscarriages). And that the next time you do become pregnant (God-willing), it won’t be this happy joy-filled time, but rather a time of close medical monitoring, needles, and heightened anxiety?
I’ve found you can’t, rather just hope they don’t notice the misty eyes as I mumble something along the lines of “It’s not the will of God right now.”
To our dear sweet babies, who are so patiently waiting for us in Heaven; pray for your poor Mother who aches to hold you so intensely right now.
And to the Mothers who have walked this extremely painful and lonely road, pray for me. And I am praying for you.
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