so…. on the depression thing:
i have bought five pairs of shoes in the last two days – four of them at one time online (at 2 a.m.) because it was ‘that kind of day’ and also because they were super on sale. also..? mike actually thinks that’s cute of me – my shoe shopping ‘In Bulk’ tendency. and YES, that directly and fully addresses the depression issue, men.
and on the Mafia thing…?
y’all really threw me for a loop. 20 comments and no one mentioned it at all?! does EVERYONE’S husband go hunting with Seriously Bad Dudes, and i’m just overreacting here? are you thinking you might get whacked if you acknowledge reading that part? (is that a correct usage of the word ‘whacked?’) did you think i was kidding…? i’m not. Y’ALL. he went out into the woods -voluntarily- with firearms AND with the mafia and THOUGHT NOTHIN’ OF IT. That’s baaaad, right? i’m really thinking so.
mike read that post and then said, "well. now i don’t know what to say when people start asking who it was."
I said, "that’s easy. you just say, ‘if i tell you, i’d have to kill you.’ "
what’s worse than going hunting with the mob? and not thinking a thing about it? and not telling your WIFE? how about taking your pastor and HIS KIDS, too? yeah. he really, really did. he said that our pastor probably wouldn’t mind.
he might be right, actually, and if that’s so, i am completely confused by how men can just ‘compartmentalize’ to that degree of Total Crazy.
I’d NEVER knowingly shoe shop with… with… a female equivalent of a Seriously Bad Mafia Dude. Never. Not anywhere, no matter her impeccable footwear taste, her insider knowledge of the best stores, her convenient and questionable ‘connections,’ not… well. Huh. Maybe I would. I totally get it now.
And that’s even worse.
the previous post has been up for only a couple of hours, i think, but i feel like a fraud. it’s a nice enough picture, but not really me. not right now anyway.
i am not smiling, half hidden behind my sweet husband. that was six weeks ago, and look! straightened hair and everything! nuh no.
don’t get me wrong. i am one of the very most ever blessed women on the planet, and please don’t let this post confuse anyone into thinking i’ve forgotten that. never.
but it’s just not a good day in the pumpkin patch, and i’d hate to mislead anyone who might for some strange reason, like, care. y’all are funny that way.
the real deal:
the postpartum depression thing might just be Full Blown Scary Not SO PostParpartum Becuase Hello? Your Baby Is One Now, Depression. And that’s ok. really. what’s the difference? one rolls off the tongue and keyboard a little easier, but both varieties faceplant me into the carpet more often than i really enjoy. it’s not everyday. more like every third or fourth day. and generally only part of that day. (yeah, mom and family. that’s why i haven’t been returning calls.)
what i have found to be helpful:
exercise and prayer – together
walking the dog
shopping, friends, shoes
scrapbooking sometimes. not always.
getting out of the house FIRST thing in the morning
structure to the day
holding a sleeping baby
what does not help:
telling myself i stink for not being able to shake this
telling myself i stink because i haven’t dragged myself to the shower (denial would be more helpful here)
lots and lots of contact and therapy with my oldest kid. (who despises me)
walking the dog and having to jump out of his way to avoid being peed upon. (he was frantically ‘marking’ the path)
a random list since i’ve lost my train of thought regarding helps and not helps: (i do not pretend to be eloquent, no matter what kind of day it’s been.)
1. on the way to New Mexico a few days ago, mike manages to casually (yes, CASUALLY) mention that he once hunted with a Crime Boss. A crime boss…? i ask. I get bad dreams from watching any sort of drama, suspense anything, mystery etc. or reading them. so i don’t. therefore i do not get the lingo. he clarified that yes, he meant a MAFIA CRIME BOSS and he was a ‘really nice guy’.
2. i freaked out for at least 10 miles, then fumed for the next 90 miles.
3. then i got hungry and forgot for a little while.
4. mike is a financial advisor/insurance dude/radio host sorta guy. NOT a ‘go hang out with the mafia and forget to tell his wife for a couple of years’ sort.
5. or so i thought.
6. oh, gah.
7. he’s probably a spy.
8. i’m married to a spy, i just know it.
9. i dont’ think that guy was probably as nice as mike said he was. do you?
10. well, maybe. i mean, mike’s nice.
11. and mike’s probably a spy.
this is the real me. no happy smiles in a pumpkin patch. just good old paranoia, depression, and a little silliness to take the edge off.
yep. time for the once a month breast self exam! let’s try to reach 35 this month. how it works:
you do the self breast exam
all who participate check into the comments section
i’m proud of you
you’re proud of you
and that’s about it!
one day soon though, there will be an incentive that will make you wish you’d participated every single month, so don’t say i didn’t warn ya. it’ll be bloggy cool, and you won’t want to miss out, so go feel em up, ‘kay?
the holiday busy season has officially begun here at the holy house.
i’m trying to figure out the Thanksgiving card that i’ll help 10 6yr olds make at their party on friday (gah!), and what i’m NOT doing is considering what to pack or how to have a thanksgiving week out of state in a rented house near where Kim-12yr is. do we cook? what do i cook? what do i buy already done….? a whole week of holiday, therapy, and all the emotions that go with that. (everyone’s emotions, which are a potent mix.)
i’m off to cut turkey parts out of paper and not think about next week. looking forward to reading about all of your holiday stuff soon.
y’all are already on the ball right?
I’ve blogged for almost a year now. you might think that religion, politics or sex posts would get the blogosphere all up in my grill. and you’d be wrong. but you know what WILL? musical taste.
i don’t know much about music. I don’t really care too much about music – i’m just not like that. i’m fascinated by words and writing – music, not so much. but i am pretty sure that it’s ok if i don’t like elton john. sure. i CAN say that. I DON’T LIKE HIM. heh heh. now that’s some strong language right there. ooooh. i like those words.
in the last post my language was not even that strong, and it got me on a few of elton’s fan websites, where those loyal to elton talked about how i must be lost, lonely, and unintelligent. no, not kidding. isn’t that funny? all you have to do is articulate your a few opinions toward certain artists, and BAM! the web wakes up and gets all offended. i find that fascinating. i think i’ll toy with it a bit. indulge me.
i don’t like elton, i don’t like elton, nah nah nah nah nah nah. i don’t want to listen to any more of his stuff. not the new stuff. not the old stuff. not the disney stuff. not any of it. ha!
hmmm…. i don’t like…. madonna. i really don’t. i do not like madonna. nah nah nah nah. i hate the madonna on a cross crap she’s doing in her shows, too – kinda the last straw for me.
you know who else…? sting. i don’t get him.
Who else? Jessica Simpson. Don’t like her. I don’t think she can sing, and she’s frighteningly pretty.
and kenny chesney. don’t like him. i think he’s in love with his own arms. what is up with that? i just think the man could use the benefit of a sleeve every once in awhile.
there we go.
freedom of speech is a beautiful thing.
i can’t tell you how many times someone tells me they read a post of mine, and I interrupt and say, ‘but did you read the comments?! because that’s always the best part!" And it is. y’all are just funny and wise, and caring and all of that. i also can’t tell you how many times i’m talking to my mom on the phone, and she’ll refer to something one of you said in a comment. so see? y’all really matter. my MOM quotes you.
There was excellent input on the razor issue, y’all. If you didn’t go back and weigh in, or check the comments that day, you should. (go ahead, it’s ok. )
But just now i was looking at the comments from that last post, and oooh, it was good. i’m copying and pasting the following excerpt, but all of it was pretty good. this particular bit made me yelp out loud in laughter and simply can’t be missed:
HA! yeah, geekwif, i was going "JOEL! dude, his name is Billy JOEL, and i adore him." he’s not even in the same category as elton john, whose music annoys me 95% of the time. exceptions: Sad Songs Say So Much, and Rocket Man
but of all readers to come along next, JOEL, I thought you were quite restrained in not asking what was so forgettable about the word ‘joel.’
heh heh. y’all are the best.
so, y’all. billy whats-his-name or elton? i already voted billy, of course, but it’s your turn now.
billy vs. elton
join me, won’t you? i am having a fantastic time, embracing my dorkihood. i’m in bed with a laptop, a dog next to the bed, a scrapbook magazine next to me, and cheeeeeesy music on the radio. seriously. "Hello" by lionel richie just played. no kidding. oh, but no. now it’s elton john singing something from the lion king. it just got much worse with that one.
is that line after ‘circle of life’ really ‘wheel of fortune?’ that’s what it sounds like to me… it’s right before he sings ‘leap of faith’ and then goes into nineteen more cliches.
gah, this is painful.
where’s lionel richie when you need him?
is it me…. you’re…. lookin’ for…?
yes, lionel, it is.
i’m listening to the Delilah call in radio show. I do that while i scrapbook at night sometimes. dorkihood, i tell ya.
elton’s almost done, PRAISE GOD.
ok, it’s over, but emily has called in and is jabbering on and on to delilah about chemistry and come. on. already. really. i need the circle of life song out of my head, so i wish they’d hurry up. emily is encouraging single moms, saying she is not incomplete wihtout a man. my mom hates double negatives like that. they don’t bug me, really. but i suppose she could have phrased it differently – ‘am complete WITHOUT a man,’ rather than ‘not imcomplete without one…’ she’s quoting scripture. hard to dislike a gal quoting scripture about how she’s not incomplete, but i wish she’d just request a good song and shh already.
oh please. she doesn’t even have a request. ‘surprise me.’
sounds bad, delilah…
madonna…? from the 80s?
"I’m Every Woman?!"
look here! Jenny is celebrating her 100th post, and is giving away prizes. congratulations, jenny on 100!
Venus or Schick Quattro? Feel free to write in a candidate. (and don’t get me started on the absurdity of a vibrating razor. whoever started that can just stay far away from my legs.) if you’ve actually used BOTH, please mention that with your vote.
Carol tagged me for the nine kinds of weird meme. Here goes!
1. I hate it when the kids’ plastic bath toys bump into me when i’m in the water. just feels gross.
2. the toes on one of my feet look like my mom’s toes.
3. the toes on the other foot look like my dad’s toes.
4. my mom and dad have very different looking feet, although theirs at least match each other, unlke mine.
5. last night i was dancing around the bedroom when i caught mike looking at me. i had to explain that there was ‘music in my head.’
6. worse than that, the music in my head was "Let’s Get Physical" by Olivia Newton John
7. when my sister and i were younger we thought that song was about excitement over doing aerobics …
8. turns out it’s about sex…
9. which is a lot more exciting than aerobics anyway.