The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

I watch my daughter fidgeting in her seat as we go over her spelling words. I see her cover her ears and shake whenever there is a loud noise. I recognized her panicked expressions, her need for distraction, and her heighten sensitivity to what's around her. We do not celebrate Halloween, we DO NOT use auto flush toilets, we avoid masks of all kinds, and until this year tall slides or play tubes were completely out! Every teacher, and several of her doctors have said what I already know. My daughter has an anxiety problem. Since she is only 7 I will not call it a disorder. However, seeing as her father and I having both been diagnosed with, and are being treated for, general anxiety disorder, I feel certain this is not a phase. I see her suffering, feeling genuine fear and anxiety and I want to make it better. I want to fix it for her.

I know all to well how she feels. The crawling out of your own skin feeling anxiety gives you. The butterflies in your stomach over the littlest things. I experience it too, while I have tried to hide my anxiety from her since she was a baby, I know that she sees my reactions, and she feels my tension. The worst part, and the hardest part for me to control, is my heighten sensitivity. The littlest noises, or motions will make me literally feel jittery, nervous, or tense. Oh and crowds, large crowds of people will make me feel like my head is going to explode. So, amusement parks, malls, festivals, concerts, all anxiety ridden for me, and in turn, for her. Once I feel like crawling out of my skin, my sensativity to being touched also increases. I feel so much guilt when my child wants a hug or a snuggle and I pull away. I seats try to explain that mommy is having a hard time right now, or mommy needs some space, but I see her expression drop each time and it breaks my heart. And it breaks my heart to know that some day she will understand EXACTLY how I am feeling.

A Prayer From Psycho Momma for Parenting Tips

I would say this pretty accurately sums up how I have been feeling lately. Apparently it is how Chuck has been feeling to because I heard him yell for the first time in over 2 years this morning. So here is a brief little synopsis of our morning. (beginning last night)
8:00PM-Both girls in bed (yeah go me)
8:35PM- I realize I was supposed to drop my car off at the garage to be worked on at 6AM
8:36PM- Chuck and I argue about how to handle this. I suggest he go ask the neighbors if they mind running him to the garage then. He disagrees and says we should ALL get up at 5:30AM to get the car to the garage.
8:45PM- Yelling (mostly by me) about how Chuck is all wrapped up in all this stuff with his ex and his daughter and how he is creating problems where there are not problems (and there are PLENTY of problems already) He gets angry with me tells me that is not true. How he made dinner and took care of the kids while I had a migraine... You can guess how the rest plays out. Finally I just tell him to go upstairs and leave me alone, and he does.
9:30PM- I sit on the couch trying to decide what to do next. I feel the heart palpitations start and I am fighting the impulse to grab the car keys and run off, just for the sake of running off. (fight or flight I guess)
9:45PM- I decide more anxiety meds, muscle relaxant for the migraine, my Paxil and some quality time with my book are in order
9:47PM- I enter our room to get my meds. I feel my heart race as I walk past Chuck
11:00PM- I fall asleep on the couch reading The Help
11:00-3:00AM- Off and on sleeping on the couch
5:30AM- My alarm goes off
5:35AM- Snooze goes off
5:40AM- Snooze goes off I roll of couch and walk upstairs to wake everyone else
5:45AM- I push open the bedroom door to find our geriatric dog has pooped in the middle of the night, and in the middle of the bedroom floor.
5:46AM- Wake my daughter. Through on shoes, sweatshirt, pants
5:50AM- Chuck wakes his daughter
5:55AM- we load everyone (now awake and chatty) into cars head for the garage
6:04AM- Keys in drop box, we head back home.
6:16AM- I instruct my daughter to head straight upstairs and begin getting ready for school. I begin to look for her clothes.
6:20AM- I give up on looking for matching socks in the clean laundry and head upstairs to search her room.
6:25AM- Still looking for socks, slightly more panicked now (I remember having 2 clean pair in my hand this weekend. WHERE THE HELL DID THEY GO?)
6:30AM- Start yelling to Chuck to help look for said socks as I do my daughter's hair. She screams that I am pulling too much.
6:32AM-Psyco mom makes and appearance and begins freaking out about the missing socks (We have like 5 pair of school socks, how have we lost ALL 5 pair in 2 weeks?) As I look I knock my daughters 20 little "swishies" on the floor and begin yelling about the state of her room.
6:35AM-Both girl put on shoes to drive to bus stop (one to get on the bus, the other because she likes to do whatever the older one does) There is MUCh talking and question asking. "Patty is this the right foot? Patty do I have the right foot? Well is this the right foot?" "Where is my breakfast?" "Mom are we taking the dog to the bus stop"
6:40AM- Chuck and his daughter begin to argue over whether she needs a toy to keep her from getting bored on this 5 minute car ride. (this is where Chuck yells) "I SAID NO!"
6:41AM- She returns to the kitchen and is quickly distracted by the dog, who knows its time to go and is in his create whining and spinning hoping to come also.
6:45AM- Jackets on, leash on dog, we head out
6:47AM- Attach dog harness to seat so he stays put. Buckle in the two girls.
6:48AM- Head to the bus stop. Girls constant chatter the whole way.
6:55AM- We are there (damn it! the bus doesn't come until 7:05-7:10 we are too early)
6:56AM-7:07AM- The girls bicker about sitting with the dog, and then take VERY timed out turns sitting with the dog.
7:08AM- Load kid on bus. Head home with other kid.
7:20AM- Walk dog
7:28AM- Tell Chuck I am going back to bed until I need to get ready for work.
7:32AM- Oh yeah, the dog poop.

When I first became a single mom 4 years ago. Psycho Momma made regular appearances. I mean after all, I was suddenly live 5 minutes from parents I had spent 7 years being 8 hours from. I was a stay-at-home mom and was suddenly a working full-time AND taking care of a 2 year old. She was suddenly in a new house, in daycare, and...well...2. Now that she is 6, and I am well medicated...I mean more together, psycho mom only creeps out at times of extreme anxiety or stress. She now knows psycho mom though, and when she is told that momma is about to loose her temper and we don't wanna deal with crazy momma. She will say uh oh momma, ok. (I don't know if that is good or bad.) This is often followed by her quoting the movie Madagascar and saying "momma is psychotic" "the penguins are psychotic". Let me clarify that I DO NOT believe in yelling. I DO NOT believe in yelling at my child. I DO NOT believe yelling is an affective means of disciple OR communication. I do, however, believe that even the best parents do it in times of frustration or fear. As proof by Chuck's "stern daddy" voice this morning.

Now anyone who has children, and even most people who don't, knows that parenting is hard. It sucks to have to be the bad guy, kids find new and creative ways to test your limits, they are natural curious, naturally messy, they develop little I know everything attitudes. You gotta learn to go with the flow, choose your battles, and be ready for constant change. It's challenging, but what do you do when you have an anxiety disorder? How do you deal with all the punches and battles, especially at times of stress. Our family dynamic has changed so much since the arrival of Chuck's daughter it is hard to describe. There is the additional needs of another child to take care of, there is her constant need for attention, movement, or talking. (We assume because she had to fight for attention from her brother and not noticed by her mother who was self medicated and manic.) Also, she seems to have had little to no rules or guidance. So there are constant battles of will between her and Chuck. All of that coupled with the fact that she does not sleep through the night, has made the anxiety level in the whole house rise. Of course, that is expected with the unexpected arrival of a 4 year old into an already established home. The question now becomes what DO we do with that anxiety. I know, I personally, am beginning to question how good of a step-mom I am going to be. I am tired, I am frustrated, I miss time with Chuck where he could concentrate on what I was saying. He and I are having trouble getting on the same page about how to handle his daughter and her special needs. I am getting scared that maybe, despite me best intentions, I can not handle all of this, Chuck's mental health issues (PTSD, anxiety, depression, and ADD) and my metal health issues.

My migraines are more regular, my sleep is less regular, my temper is high, and my tolerance low. I don't want the girls to feel like it is them. Nor do I want to turn into screaming, yelling, fit throwing psycho mom/ fiance. No one really likes her, most of all me. I have a temper that beyond what is normal. It embarrasses me. Of course I leave whatever room the kids are in to throw my little fit, but I have a hard-time when I am in that fight or flight state of mind to not doing one or the other. If I resist the urge to "fight" then I instantly, desperately want to run. Anywhere. The more I try to control it, the more it bubbles up later. I am not sure how to parent with all of this going on in the back ground.

So I pray. I don't even know if I believe in God. I KNOW I don't think there is a "heavenly" place above me where HE looks down on me and judges all I do, but yet I pray. In fact the other night Chuck's daughter fell asleep on my chest as I rocked her. As I swayed with the rocker I repeated in my head "God bless this child. God bless this family. God bless this child. God bless this family." Lord knows that little girl has been through enough, and we all need some peace in our heads/ home tonight.

When Super Mom Looses Her Secret Identity

Image by Ron Barrett via NYTimes.com

Anyone who has had a new born knows how it feels. You go from working girls, party girl, sexy, fun, funny, hair done, nice clothes, to maternity pants when the new born is 4 months old, exhausted, with some level of postpartum, and none of that really seems to matter because ALL people see any more is the new baby. You seem to have to no longer exist, other than at 4AM when there are dirty diapers to change, or hungry bellies to fill. After....about....4 years, I FINALLY got my groove back! I got all my meds adjusted down, I had lost the baby weight, I was now a single mom, but I was doing my own thing and feeling good about it. I started dating, met the love of my life, don't get me wrong it was not all a bed of roses. I had quite a number of dark days, but over all I was ME again. I had an identity outside of my daughter and my house, but I was still being recognized as a DAMN good mom. (YAY! Go me! Right?) Then about two weeks ago we get handed a 4 year old. Hold on a sec, what just happened? Of course she is Chuck's daughter, and she was in really bad place so there was no hesitation on our part as to if she would come to live with us or not. She was coming-period. Since then there have been a TON of ups and downs getting all of us adjusted, but over all, it has gone exceptionally well. In part, I believe, because I am through and through a kid person. I love children. I relate to children. I am GOOD with children. Chuck knew and saw this fact almost immediately after we met, and both of us being very family focused our kids and our family became the foundation for our relationship. This was what made us happy. So once his daughter moved in I of course put on my super mom uniform right away! We started making sure my daughter had everything she needed. I started looking for support from friends and family. Getting information on case workers, children's therapy, anything to help Chuck's (and now my) little girl. With in weeks we had services researched, we had clothes for her, toys, a new bed, and she and I have a strong bond. Sounds awesome, right? Well, it is, and Chuck tells me daily that I am a wonderful mother, that he is so grateful to me for all I do for our family, and that is above all, my biggest priority. Laaaaately, though....I have been kinda missing me. I remember feeling strong, and sexy, and funny, and deep (at least deeper than "Well, what should Elmo have told Zoe instead of No that's my toy and you can't have it"?) I miss me. I miss Chuck seeing me as more than a "great mom". I know he does, but as anyone with a new child in the house knows, for awhile life becomes engulfed by that new child's needs. But you must not let their needs replace yours. You can not take care of others if you are not taking care of yourself, and as parents you can not build a strong family, if you are not a strong couple. Right before all of this I had begun to draw again, and I was LOVING it. Now I have not had the time, nor have I wanted to take the chance of the kids getting into my art supplies and getting charcoal all over the house. Chuck and I were walking. It was some nice time for us to be together and release some stress. Time has made that harder. I used to get my hair colored and cut every few months and occasionally splurge on a pedicure. Now there seems like so many more important things to do with that money. We talked about being in love, getting married finally, even the possibility of another baby, recently all we talk about is the kids, the ex, custody, services...I am very sarcastic and funny. Lately, the subject matter is always so serious that my normal coping through joking seems inappropriate. I remember going through these same feelings when my daughter was born, so I know it will even out eventually. For now, however....ahhhhhh I am excellent with kids and a super mom if ever there was one....oh and I USED TO BE funny, artsy, sexy, sassy, smart, and cute.

What To Do With A Twitchy Elephant (twitchy as defined below)

Twitchy

AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! TODAY IS A BAD ANXIETY DAY!!!!!  I am literally having trouble sitting still. I went to the Psych doc this morning and she wrote me a script for antianxiety meds (clearly not yet filled) I am twitchy and edgy and about ready to cry at any given moment. I have not been able to concentrate on work for more than about 30 minutes at a time, which makes it hard to complete any given task. I am also beginning to not be able to speak in full and comprehensible sentences. this is a bad thing, a very bad thing for someone who works in the sales field. I am sure my anxiety level is elevated by a lack of sleep, a heightened anxiety level at my house, and some hormones. Today when I returned from taking my daughter to the bus, I found Chuck sitting in the living room while his daughter was in her room screaming "I miss my mommy! I miss my mommy!" My heart breaks for both of them, and Chuck is struggling to make sense of all that has happened in his own head. Making it twice as hard for it to make sense to me. So after only a week, of being a mom of two, I find my stomach in knots, my migraines returning, and my leg bouncing. The heart palpitations have not quite started yet, but I am familiar enough with the anatomy of my panic attacks to know they are not far off. However, taking the prescribed antianxiety medication will mean fatigue, slight loopiness, and the a warning against driving. Some how the constant twitching helps. It makes me feel a little better in some odd way, but it is almost contagious. The more it bounces the more I feel like I NEED to bounce it, and the quick, constant movement seems add to the anxiety.

http://thewvsr.com/index.php/i-live-in-fear-of-catastrophic-filter-failure/

Also the added stress and anxiety seem to have made my filter go all defunct...or maybe that's the lack of sleep. Either way it is not good, and I am pretty sure my co-worker is looking forward to being off tomorrow so as not to have to watch me twitch and listen to me spurt out random thoughts, noises, and humming to myself. It all just seem to slip right out before I am able to stop it. I guess technically I have a small amount of filter because I am not going AH, AH, AH, AH, AH, AH while my head and eye twitch. But hey there is always tomorrow right!?

I hate feeling this way. That crawling out of your own skin feeling. The "if only I could escape from myself". I really hope that the medication takes the edge off because I don't expect to have a whole lot of quiet meditation time this week, and I know I will begin to become a total basket case if I can not get my nerves under control. I begin to do crazy things in order to try to stop that butterfly in my stomach feeling. I can not afford to be crazy this week. I have picture day, dance class, open house at my daughter's school, and a school picnic to attend, on top of the normal everyday functioning. As Dar Williams says:
I don't know how everybody makes it through the daily drill
Paint the nails, walk a dog, pay every bill
Sometimes I feel so overwhelm that just the normal daily "life" stuff makes me feel like I'm going to loose my mind. That's sad isn't it? That is when I feel the craziest. That is when I feel incapable, like "what the hell is wrong with me? Everybody else seems to do it just fine. It's just life chicka suck it up!" At least now I know I will not feel this way forever. Now I know if I can find a way to hold on a little longer things will be better. When I first started to have panic attacks I truly felt like I was just not going to deal with it. Like I was just weak, stupid, lazy, defective some how. Now I know I am only going to feel this way for a time. That helps me keep going a day at a time. But being Momma is in this state is really tough. And now with an additional child who is needing extra attention I am concerned about how I will hold it together. Chuck seems to be in pretty bad shape also and I have doubts that I can hold all of us together. I don't know what to do. How do you take care of 3 other people and two dogs while having panic attacks or while being sedated by medications? It will be ok right? I mean we can do this right? I can do this right, and It won't feel like this forever? (breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out)

 

Does this Mood Make Me Look Fat?

Folding Chair-I've got a perfect body, but sometimes I forget
I've got a perfect body, 'cause my eyelashes catch my sweat
yes they do
They do

Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh-ooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh

Present/Infant-
lately i've been glaring into mirrors
picking myself apart
you'd think at my age
i'd of thought of something better to do
then make insecurity into a full time job
make insecurity into an art
(yea and i) fear my life will be over
(and i) will have never lived it unfeathered
always glaring into mirrors
mad i don't look better
now here's this tiny baby
and they say she looks just like me
and she is smiling at me
with that present infant glee
yes and i would defend to the ends of the earth
her perfect right to be, (be, be, be)
so i'm begining to see some problems
with the ongoing work of my mind
and i've got myself a new mantra
it says "don't forget to have a good time"
don't let the sellers of stuff
have power enough
to rob you of your grace
love is all over the place
there's nothing wrong with your face
love is all over the place
there's nothing wrong with your face
lately i've been glaring into mirrors
picking myself apart

Ahhhhhh Regina, Ani you are wise, wise women! Why is it then that SO many educated, intelligent, modern, BEAUTIFUL women still doubt there physical attractiveness? A loaded question I know, with no simple answer, but as a mother of a beautiful, warm, charismatic little girl I find I am constantly looking for the answer. I am currently reading  Cinderella Ate My Daughter (a recommended read for all moms of girls I must say!) and it is amazing the lengths the world of marketing goes to to enforce the picture perfect, princess image to our girls, but in keeping with the idea of how our metal "defects" affect our families I would like to look at this tissue on a more personal level, a more fundamental level, a level we have a very real amount of control over. That is, what messages do we as moms send our children about weight and appearance? I grew up in an environment that was very focused on appearance, physical appearance and social appearance. What people thought of us as a family and as individuals was considered to be of utmost importance! What people thought of us as children was considered to be a DIRECT reflection of the type of family and parents we had. Embarrassing my parents was considered to be the worst insult a child could bestow on them. My mother made sure we were dressed in clothes that were better than we could afford, our hair was ALWAYS done, and smiles were on our faces. Let me just say, that's a lotta pressure on a kid. Of course, to be fair, she put the same amount of pressure on herself to be equally as perfect looking. Every weight gain (ours or hers) was noted, sometimes subtly, sometimes not. I know this was something that my sister and I carried into our teenage and adult lives. It is still something we talk about. It is evident when ever there is a family crisis, or a big family event, my sister and I will spend hours talking about, debating, and trying on clothes and shoes. We will then talk jewelry, hair, and make-up and totally ignore the emotional part of whatever event we are about to attend. Then we openly, and sometimes harshly criticize each other's clothes, hair, shoes, adding to the pressure to "get it right".

Later in life this has translated for me into some body image distortions. I went through a time where I had some major emotional issues, and I felt out of control. What I could control, however, was what and how much I ate. It felt good to me to have the will power to not eat. People noticed how much weight I was loosing and commented on it. I knew it was unhealthy, but let's face it, the focus in our society is not to be healthy, but to be SKINNY! Perfectly, controllable skinny! 96 pounds skinny in fact. I was able to over come this to a degree with the help of my counselor. However, I still struggle with my body. The anti-depressant I take has made me gain weight recently, and I am miserable about it. Add to that the stretch marks from pregnancy, and scaring from 2 separate laparoscopic surgeries and you have a bad mix for someone who already wasn't happy with their body. Getting dressed is a constant struggle. Pictures are not something I care to deal with EVER, and special occasions make me hyper ventilate. Special occasions mean pictures AND stress about what I am wearing and how it fits! It affects my mood, my sex drive, my self confidence, to say nothing of my desire to be seen in a swim suit. Then I feel anxious and depressed, which makes me wanna eat, which makes me feel bad, which makes me wanna eat...

I try not to dwell on it or talk about it to much in front of my daughter, but it is hard. I am sure she picks up on the 7 outfit changes, and all the fussing when I am getting ready. Which is a whole nother blog in, and of itself.  So there ya have it, tomorrows entry. How do we stop the cycle of hating our appearance when it is so deeply ingrained in our society, our gender, and our families?