Big Brother Beaner

For whatever reason we call Ian, Beaner. His name just sort of evolved into Beaner and now we call him by that name more than we call him Ian. He answers to it and occasionally will call himself Beaner when looking in the mirror or seeing his reflection in something.

Yesterday I was nursing Kyle and Ian came up and tried to take Kyle from my arms. I asked him if he wanted to hold Kyle when I was done and he replied with a very enthusiastic, "hold him". Once Kyle was in Beaner's lap he looked at me and said, "Beaner, brother."

As difficult as it has been having these two boys so close in age and the crazy nursing schedule a newborn demands, I have a feeling all my boys are going to grow up pretty close as brothers. Their bond is only beginning and it already makes me cry.

It must be nice to sleep in as long as you want in a bed where you didn't have to change or wash any of the sheets, to have coffee already made, to have a mug clean and waiting in the cupboard for you, to be free to leave your dirty mug wherever you please, to watch whatever you want on tv for as long as you want, followed by computer time - again for as long as you want. It must be nice to be called that it's lunch time and to be able to eat hot food instead of having to jump up to clean up a spill, wipe hands and faces, refill sippy cups or answer the phone and then eat cold food later. It must be nice to not have your name called whenever someone is screaming or crying, to shit without someone sticking their fingers under the door, and read whatever you want. It must be nice to be able to leave the house to go to work, have breaks, and other people to talk with who don't just repeat 'dog' over and over, or to come home and leave your coat on the back of the kitchen chair or draped on the banister. It must be nice to watch television uninterrupted, go to bed whenever you want, put in your earplugs, sleep all night long and then wake up whenever you aren't tired enough to sleep anymore.

I'd be livin' the dream. Rinse and repeat.

Better Days

Kyle meets his Big Poppy for the first time. Two months old.

Craig and Ian

I'm learning to let go of things.

I'm learning to take each day for what it is: just a day. Tomorrow is a new one.

Slowly I've been feeling more and more like myself. Craig's been great. It seems that once I was honest and open with him I've been able to deal a lot better with how I'm feeling. Having a supportive husband has really helped.

Dawn of the Dinosaurs

"Mummy, where were people when dinosaurs were real?"
"People weren't alive yet."
"But where were they?"
"Ummm, in God's imagination."
"So God made dinosaurs first?"
"Yes, Shaun."
"And after the dinosaurs died then he made people?"
"Yes."
"Kind of like when I draw with my smelly pencil first in case I make a mistake?"
*giggle* "Mmm hmm."

I Tell Lies

It was pretty clever to use the previous post to comment. Kudos. Thanks for your concern and I'm very sorry to have scared anyone. It really was a low point for me last Friday. I'm on a stint now of 3 better days in a row so I'm hoping this is just the beginning. I'm still learning to let go of things and try my best to not let them bother me. Craig and I had our very first serious conversation on Saturday night about how I was feeling. I didn't lie once and it felt so good to be honest with him. I hadn't wanted him to worry so when he'd ask I'd lie.

I've been checking out some websites in the meantime and reading a lot of personal journeys from women who have dealt with PPD. I'm still in a bit of denial that it's truly PPD mostly because I have no thoughts of harming myself or my children, I don't have intrusive thoughts and I still have good days in between the bad. But something's definitely up with my mood. I'm working on that.