Yes, yes, I am in the process of writing Leo and Zoe's 4 month update (two weeks late already!) and I know that is what you are really interested in, but in keeping with my selfish parenting principles, I thought I'd write about me first.
As you can probably tell by the long pause in blogging, December was a difficult month. Zoe and Leo are doing well, but we had a lot of hiccups. Under normal circumstances, I manage to keep things under control - barely. But if one little thing goes wrong, it gets hard. In December, we had a few little illnesses (just sniffles), I hurt my back, Sam was on holiday from school, my babysitter got sick, there was Christmas itself, and my babysitter spent m0re time with her family. That was enough to put blogging (and a lot of other things) on the back burner. Adam was home a bit more than usual, but he did most of the work for Christmas - setting up the decorations, wrapping presents, etc., so that was a wash in terms of taking care of babies. The back injury required muscle relaxers which meant that I couldn't breastfeed, which meant that I had to pump to keep up my milk supply. That was a horrible week. Anyway, when you're living on the edge like this and something goes wrong, it's like cascade failure. One problem causes another, and another, and another, and that went on pretty much the whole month.
The other thing that happened in December was the onset of mild postpartum depression. Just like with Sam, I was fine for months before I noticed a problem. I'm not even sure if what I'm going through would be called PPD or just "baby blues." I just tend to find the negative in everything, and as soon as I finish the day's work, all I want to do is crawl into bed and watch Dr. Drew's Celebrity Rehab. Even if I had had more time, I didn't want to blog because I had nothing good to say. I feel good today, so I'm hoping to get two posts done, but I make no promises. I might just crawl back into that hole in a few hours.
Along with the depression came the lovely part of postpartum life when all your hair falls out. Clumps of my hair are everywhere. My psoriasis is worse than it's ever been, and my mystery pain is coming back. And in December, I didn't lose any weight. My scale tells me that I gained a tenth of a pound. Maybe I don't have PPD after all - who wouldn't be down with all of that going on?
In fact, maybe I'm depressed because I haven't been blogging. Or maybe it is just the shortened days of winter. Who knows - causality is beyond me right now - I'm just getting through each day.
It probably sounds worse than it is. I've done some thinking on paper and have plans to address the things that are under my control. I plan to keep using my babysitter this semester and not to skimp on that help. That's the thing that keeps me most sane, and allows me to spend time with Sam. Sam going back to school will help too. I have doctor's appointments lined up to deal with my health issues. The return of the pain scares the crap out of me, but I need to remember that, even if I don't know why I have the pain, I do have a way to make it better: the PRP therapy I had a few years ago. I'll do that before I let it get so bad that I'm crawling up and down the stairs. I'm letting go of the weight loss goal for now. I don't think I have much control of it while breastfeeding, so I'll just try to maintain, and address it again when my hormones settle down. But so that I don't cry every time I have to get dressed to go outside the house, I'm buying some fat clothes. I hate to do it, but it's better than the alternative. With Sam, I refused to buy any new cl0thes because I would not accept my new weight, and I've spent the past 5 years wearing whatever I could pick up at Target while shopping for soap and towels and boxed wine. There are other actions I plan to take, too, like setting up regular date nights with Adam and things like that.
But with all the talk of New Year's resolutions, I feel even more pathetic. I hear people planning to get in shape, travel, start a new career, or other such ambitious notions. My resolutions are to keep showering every day and to eat more sushi. My plans are so small. Really? Going out for dinner with my husband twice a month is an action-item? Yes, it is, and it is difficult to achieve. I don't know why I find it so hard to accept that taking care of Leo and Zoe has to trump so many other things, but I do. I did this dropping context thing with Sam too, and I thought I learned my lesson: that it is all just temporary. But even though I know that, it bugs me. I want to be doing those ambitious things, too.
And that brings me to my final note. I do have one project that is ambitious. In fact, in my context, it is a BHAG (Big, Hairy, Audacious Goal). It is time to begin the real preparation for homeschooling. Sam graduates from Montessori in June, and I plan to start working with her in August. I figure if I start now, I'll be ready by then. And that is exciting. Still, instead of starting at the beginning of January like I had planned, I have to put it off for at least two weeks to catch up after crazy December.
As you can see, my emotions about these things are all over the place. I feel like I'm doing nothing, but I have a huge goal in front of me. I want to hole up and watch tv, but I want to be out pursuing more values. It's all part of the first year with babies, for me.