From sleepless nights to potty training: Reflections on my two-year journey as a mother

It's the night before my sweet little Kaylee Bug turns two years old.

I came in here to write after spending a short while with her before bed, where we read her favorite new book - Ladybug Girl, and she asked to say her "pears" (prayers) - prayers in which she frequently thanks Jesus for things like Captain Feathersword from The Wiggles, as well as other important things like candy, Costco and Grandma.

After the reading of the book (and my refusal to read the book again), the pears, and the stalling, I succumbed to her request of "Mommy yay down, too?"

So, this little mommy yayed down, too.

And, in those little moments, I realized how far we'd come in two years.

We made it through postpartum depression and anxiety, an overwhelming sense of when in the hell am I going to figure this whole motherhood thing out (answer = uh, never), very sleepless, unpredictable nights, the horror of teething, so many firsts, so many laughs and tears and holycrapIamgoingtoLOSEit moments.

We've made it through so much. And while I will always remember those really, really hard times - the belief that I would literally never sleep again, the terrifying panic and worry, the worse-than-contractions-kind-of-pain I had after giving birth, the insane sleep deprivation, the unbearable irritability, our 9-month battle with breast feeding, Kaylee's refusal to take naps for her first 12 months of life, multiple trips to the ER and a stay in the children's hospital, and did I mention the sleep deprivation? - I can honestly tell you that I don't have anywhere near the vivid imagery of those events that I did months ago. The emotional pain of those struggles fades more and more as time goes on, believe it or not, and I thank God for that.

When I look back on the last 2 years, those really sucky moments are not what stands out most to me anymore. For the longest time, I couldn't get past those haunting memories. I felt like they were so deeply etched in my mind, and for the longest time, I had a hard time believing things would get much better, or that it would ever become easier for me to look back and not have those be the most dominating memories I had of being a mother.

Will I ever completely forget what that junk was like? Oh, heck no. I will always remember how real and how difficult those days and months were. But now, I'm able to see myself as an even tougher woman for actually surviving all that. Those were bumps in the road that helped me grow, helped me learn more about myself, and helped to stir up a passion in myself to help other women who are either in that boat now or who have been there in the past.

Now, when I play that little slideshow in my head of the past 2 years, I see things like Kaylee taking her first steps in our office, and then later that night, taking more steps out in the living room after Dennis bribed her with a cookie.

I see her enjoying her first bite of cake, courtesy of my Dad.

I see her running all the way across a soccer field, just to get to the dirt border around the outside so she can play in the dirt and rocks instead of the soft grass.

I see a little girl who decided all on her own that it was time to start potty training, and who pretty much always thinks it's okay to just sit all the live long day on the toilet and "go potty more!" only to get off the toilet, state matter-of-factly, "Don't pee on da floor" and then proceed to pee on the floor.

I see her jacking a can of V8 out of the fridge and toting it around pretending to drink out of it as she walks around the house, and then saying, "Ahhhhh" after she's finished with her pretend drink.

I see a little girl who knows her ABC's and sings the Ippy Pider (Itsy Bitsy Spider) song all on her own.

I see a little girl who uttered, "Dammit!" in Wal-Mart today after I dropped a box of pasta off the shelf.

I see all the times Kaylee's face lit up each and every time Uncle Colin and Sarah came home from college after she'd gone months without seeing them.

I see my spunky little smiling, energetic, funny, smart, absolutely beautiful baby girl.

And, finally, I see myself as a damn good mother.

I no longer see a failure who still can't keep the house clean, who occasionally swears and loses my patience and struggles to stay sane some days. I no longer see a mess of a mom who never had it together.

Now I see a woman who balances a marriage, a job, friendships, family, being a mother, and trying to have some time to myself, among other things like oh, paying the bills and planning meals and countless other super-fun responsibilities.

I see a woman who still swears and loses my patience and struggles to stay sane, but now I see that as normal, rather than seeing it as a character flaw. I still don't have it together many days, and I know I will never "arrive" at a place where I'll have it all together. That'd be a load of crap. I see a mama who does her best and who realizes, more often than not, that that's all I can do.

Forget the pressure to be the perfect mother, to have a clean house, and to be Pollyanna. Screw than, man. It's just not me.

I see the way my daughter has turned out, and I know I've done okay. And I know I will do okay.

While I may not be proud of everything I do and the way I react to everything, I realize that's just fine. And I realize that my daughter needs to see that. She needs to see her mama as human. As imperfect and sometimes messy. As one in need of a daily happy pill and some time to myself, and a good, healthy dose of Grey's Anatomy once a week.

We made it.

We made it two years. And while she tries my patience like no other, she just keeps getting more fun.

Fun enough to give me the crazy notion that it's finally time to do this whole thing over again.

God help me...

I'll take diarrhea of the mouth with a side of insomnia for 200, Alex.

When I talked about getting my priorities straight and not feeling guilty if certain things (i.e. the blog) had to take a back burner, I really didn't think I'd go two weeks without writing at all. But, I did. And I survived. And so did you. And here we are again.

I haven't written much because - well, I'm tired. Seriously tired. As in dragging all day and feeling like I could take a nap at any given moment, and frankly - I haven't had the brain power to write anything that really makes sense.

So, instead, I've been reading a lot. Reading books by people who were, at one point, getting enough sleep to write interesting and entertaining things that actually made sense. (I'll be doing a post about some of the great books I've been reading at some point in the hopefully-not-too-distant future...)

I'm working with my doctor to get this sleep thing figured out so I can feel like a normal person again. For several weeks, I'd fall asleep with no problem at all, but I'd wake up pretty much every two hours on the dot. Can we say annoying? Ugh.

Then my doctor switched me to a different antidepressant (fondly known in this house as ABPs for any of you newbies out there) that didn't put such a huge dent in our budget that I had to wonder...hmmmm, do we buy mama's happy pills and wipe our butts with newspaper this month, or do we buy toilet paper and skip the pills?

Joking...

About the toilet paper thing, anyway. We've never really had the meds vs. toilet paper dilemma, but seriously, what I was on was crazy expensive, so we decided to give something else a try. Plus, I think Dennis and I would both agree that we'd take out a second mortgage on the house and give up the internet, TV and chocolate if it meant I could keep my ABPs.

Now, I was having the sleep trouble even before I started the new stuff, but now, instead of waking up every two hours, I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow at 10, but I wake up anywhere between 1 a.m. and 3 a.m. and never fall back asleep.

It's torture.

So, we're decreasing my meds for a week to find out if that change alone will improve my sleep while still managing my anxiety/depression. Oh, how I love the waiting game!

But, in the meantime, I have a prescription for what I hope is something wonderful - Ambien, my friends.

Unfortunately, though - I'm on call at work for the next two nights, so it's like someone is dangling a Kit Kat bar in front of my face and every time I think about having a bite, they snatch it away...I've got the prescription in my hot little hands, but I don't suppose driving into work at 2 a.m. to deal with a psych patient while I, myself, am under the influence of Ambien would be a fantastic idea. So, two more nights and then hopefully I'll get a solid 8 hours in a row thanks to yet another little pill that will hopefully contribute to my happiness.

So - on top of this whole I'm not frigging SLEEPING thing, Kaylee got sick last night.

Crappity, crap, crap.

Congestion, nasty cough, snot, crankybuttedness, the whole 9. And I freaked out. It drug up everything we went through when she was so sick and ended up in the hospital, when she got sick again just after being released from the hospital, facing doctors who didn't understand the severity of her recurrent illness, and eventually taking her in for emergency surgery. That whole thing began with a simple ear infection gone really, really bad, so you know there was a part of me that was wondering if it might happen again.

This is the first time she's been sick since her surgery, and I know kids are more prone to ear infections when they've got colds. So, I'm just praying it doesn't get worse.

In other news (hey, I go two weeks without writing - you can pretty much count on getting a smorgasbord of random thoughts that I've had bottled up for 14 days...), the whole cooking healthy meals with fresh ingredients thing is still going really well. I continue to try new recipes, and Dennis is patiently going along with it. I know it's gotta sound crazy, but I have found that I love the mindless monotony of chopping vegetables. Isn't that ridiculous? But I'm being serious! I get so excited when I've got an entire meal that's cooked and I realize that I chopped every little carrot and potato and bell pepper.

It's the little things, ya know?

Mama Kat occasionally does a feature on her blog called something to the effect of "What's for Dinner?" where she has pictures and/or video of the ingredients she uses and how to make a certain recipe.

I'm pretty seriously contemplating a food-themed week coming up soon here with some ideas for healthy yet delicious cooking based on some of the recipes we've tried and loved, and some of the ways we're saving money on the good stuff. And, of course I'll have a couple giveaways to go along with all of my sage advice. Ha ha ha.

And, that's probably enough for now. This is why I shouldn't go 2 weeks without posting - I get diarrhea of the mouth and can't shut up. So, if you're still reading, do what Kaylee does when she coughs, and pat yourself on the back. You deserve it.

Back to the real world tomorrow

I'm at the tail end of six days off in a row from work. Normally, that would be a really bad thing, but I managed to pick up several extra shifts the second have of December, so it was actually just fine.

Usually, when I have that many days off in a row, I cram each day full of things to get done, places to be, and before the time off even starts, I can see a panic attack at the end of the hallway.

But, this stretch of days was finally different. Finally. Lowering my expectations of myself has been so freeing.

I have by no means mastered balance, and I know I never will, but I'm learning how to let go of some things, and I'm figuring out how I can add more enjoyable things into my life every day.

Like I mentioned a few days ago, by breaking up all my stuff to do into just a couple things per day, I was able to get stuff done that needed to get done, but I was able to relax, enjoy my baby and the rest of my family, and not feel like I constantly had to be doing something.

Kaylee and I played outside. I read books - books that were written for grown-ups! We knocked down towers of blocks over and over. and over. and over. and over. We colored. I did some Gilad workout videos. I got caught up with some friends. The house didn't blow up. The dishes didn't pile up to the ceiling, and miraculously, we all have clean clothes to wear and we have eaten food every single day. Crazy. I know.

So, while I get ready to have a whirlwind of days at work from now to the end of the month, I can actually look back on this past week and be proud of the fact that I was able to fill it with fun memories instead of unrealistic expectations and high levels of stress.

Now...time to dig out those work clothes and bring home some BACON!

Improving myself, one fudge covered Ritz cracker at a time...

So, I'm on Day 2 of this new concept of lowering my expectations of myself and making realistic, achievable, non-crazy-lady goals for each day. Yesterday I planned out my whole week, and all the tasks that need to be done have their designated day.

I've gotta say that I'm likin' what's going on.

For the past two days, everything on my list has been done before lunch. And, even though Kaylee doesn't always nap, I still put her in her crib for 2 hours to rest - and to give myself a break. And I no longer feel bad about that.

So, I find myself scratching my head wondering what to do. Today I watched some TV, and I did a little extra picking up around the house.

Part of my mind instantly goes to the place where I feel that - hmmm...since I can accomplish these small tasks, I better add more to the list. I can do more. I can get more done. I can be more productive.

But the key is learning to be content with doing what's on my list, and to avoid putting further pressure on myself to go over and above that. Everything that needs to be done will get done at some point this week because every menial little thing has an assigned day. But it's so hard to get it through my head that I don't have to be constantly plowing through the to-do list all the live long day. It's such a weird concept.

To not be constantly busy and doing something is really, ridiculously difficult for me.

But, I'm enjoying the quiet and the stillness.

I'm enjoying the fact that I no longer feel like my anxiety-ridden heart is going to pound right out of my chest due to feeling utterly overwhelmed.

I'm enjoying the fact that I can count things like watching my favorite shows as a way of taking care of myself.

And, to change the subject, I would also like to share with you that I ate nearly an entire box of fudge covered Ritz crackers - today. Just today. They were that good.

And that's all for tonight.

Let's bust out the dayplanner and schedule time to watch Grey's Anatomy, shall we?

One of the things I did while I was on my recent blogging hiatus was to start talking to a counselor.

Last week we talked about what it is that triggers my anxiety and depression, and what I can do for myself to try and prevent things from getting overwhelming, and from getting to the point where I feel like I am just going to friggin' snap.

I'm going to tell you a bit about what I learned because I having a sinking suspicion that as women and/or mothers, we all struggle with this - at least to some degree.

Here's what I learned:

I put WAY too much pressure on myself. For everything. I seem to have this all or nothing attitude, and it's high time for me to knock that crap off.

I continue to struggle with mommy guilt. If I spend too much time getting stuff done, I feel guilty for not playing more with Kaylee. If I spend all my time playing with Kaylee, I feel guilty for not doing more around the house.

Guilt, guilt, guilt. It's gotta go. It's not going to be easy, as it seems to be a theme that is ingrained in my head, but I'm working on it...

My counselor had me list all the things that pile up and and stress me out, and then he drew a picture of a person with this big boulder on their shoulders, and he sectioned off the boulder into all the different roles and responsibilities I have.

Work. Housework. Meal planning. Budgeting. Chasing a toddler around all day. Paying bills. Scheduling our family. Being a wife. Being a mom. Having a social life. And on and on. I'm sure the list is very similar to what many of you would put on your lists.

After he was done drawing, he looked at me and said, "Well? Anything else? That's a lot of stuff right there. That's a lot of pressure."

I couldn't think of anything else, and he said, "Uh, what about self-care?"

Ahhhh, yes. That funny little thing called self-care. That concept I'd slowly grown to eliminate from my mind.

The board was filled up with all his little scribbles describing all my stresses and worries. And as soon as he put self-care up there, he erased everything else.

He said, "How about you just focus on one thing at a time?"

So, I'm slowly but surely working on eliminating this kind of thinking...

"But...I've got 5 loads of laundry and a sink full of dishes. I've got to get to the store because we've been out of milk for 3 days. But...I can't go to the store. I've gotta balance the checkbook and pay the bills. What? Is that a poopy diaper I smell? Ughhhh....Why can't I just get it together and do what needs to be done around here!?!?"

One thing that's been great for me about talking to a counselor is getting to the root of things. After just short while, he pointed out to me that I have an awful lot of "have to's and should's" in my vocabulary, and he said that I need to lower my expectations of myself.

WHAT? Are we both speaking English here? How can I lower my expectations when I can't even get done what needs to be done???? You are a crazy, crazy man!

But, he's right. He reminded me I need to be realistic.

Sure, there's a lot that needs to be done. But, is it really necessary to balance the checkbook 2 times a week? Do I really have to do 4 loads of laundry in one day? What's going to happen if I don't?

Nothing. Nothing is going to happen. The world will go on.

So, the game plan is that I schedule my week, and that I consciously make the choice to have time for ME.

As far as the scheduling things goes, rather than have a huge, looming list of things to be done hanging over my overwhelmed and frazzled little mind, I'm breaking it down.

I'll set a couple goals for the day. Today? Today I accomplished everything on my to-do list by 1 p.m.

Kaylee and I went to exercise class.
I called 2 places to make payments for Kaylee's mountain of medical bills.
I did a load of laundry.
I paid one bill online.
I spent time blogging.

My aim is to have one outing a day with Kaylee, whether it's to the store or to park - just something to get us both out of this house.

Next, I will choose one or two things to accomplish around here, but they will be small, realistic, reachable goals. No more page long lists of things to do in one day, only to reach the end of my day and feel that I accomplished nothing.

As far as the self-care aspect goes, I had to make an effort to schedule that as well. Dennis has karate Monday nights, so my parents agreed to watch Kaylee after work that day so I can have a night just for myself. I can go to the gym, go out with a friend, sit around in my pj's and watch TV all night - whatever I want - it's my night. And, I've designated the hour between 9 and 10 every night for reading, and then hitting the hay no later than 10 so that I get enough rest.

Now? Now I will go watch Grey's Anatomy because I haven't done anything JUST FOR ME today, and that whole self-care concept? Leaving it out of my day is just not an option any more, and I am not going to feel guilty anymore for taking care of myself.