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Gah, filled, happy, and slightly uncomfortable. That means it was a good meal, amiright?
Today I went and spent time on myself. Also money. Thats one's harder for me to admit. I got a cut and a balayage. Why is it so hard to do nice things for myself? I have the full support of my husband. For the next few months we have 4 hours set aside every Tuesday and Thursday for me to do whatever I want. So far I have spent all of those days (4 so far) cleaning, organizing, and grocery shopping. Part of that is my personality - its more practical to do those things with out kids. The idea though was for me to do things to take care of myself. Work out, paint, write, go to the temple, sit in silence, meditate, do yoga, etc. I guess I have a hard time relaxing when my to do list is sitting in front of me.
I am getting better though.
When Ellie was born 5 years ago I couldn't even leave her with anyone during the day. It was a product of living in Westwood, not being super social with a cockily baby, and simply not making time for myself. When I got pregnant with Max 4 years ago I was determined to, at the bare minimum, see a therapist if I got PPD again, which I did. I made time for therapy, but after a while I started wondering if the therapy was helping or if it was simply the time away. I started mixing therapy with a hand full of outing over 6 months and, after 2 years of foggy depression, it zapped away on its own despite all the drugs my psychiatrist recommended. It was like being born again. I suddenly wanted to DO things and had ENERGY. By then my kids were old enough to come along. The gym was my refuge and I found I really enjoyed working out and showering without children around me (gym daycare! Hola!). I finally decided I wanted a gym pass and talked to my husband about it. He is always so accommodating when I say I need something, but its hard for me to ask. So verbalizing that desire was a challenge even then, but I did it.
The next big life event was when I got pregnant with our third baby last year during my husband's MBA school. At 3 months I started having early labor. By 4 months I was put on bedrest. We had no income and HIGHLY active 3 and 4 year old children. I had to work up my gut to ask for help. I had to ask my church and student spouse community who I had just met a few months before to rescue us. I had to ask them to take my children everyday for a couple hours for 4 months. I had to ask strangers to clean my toilets while my son was potty training. For 4 months I had to swallow my pride and get help from these very willing and kind, but unknown hands. My husband came home early each day from school sacrificing study time, group work, and networking to support our family while I lay down watching. I was entirely helpless and worked to stave off the guilt of watching others do everything around me; I was growing my baby and, dammit, she was worth me swallowing my pride.
Out she came. Somehow this time I didn't get depressed. Even when we moved 2 weeks after she was born for 3 months to rainy Portland, Oregon. Even when we left our larger home behind and shacked up in a tiny condo with baby in our room. Even when I we only had the items we could squeeze in our cars to entertain my kids all summer long. I asked for time from my husband every Saturday and got it. I let my mother-in-law and later my mom take over the kids for a week each. I ate right. I was healthy.
Now with an 8 month old, I am still saying 3 kids has been WAY easier than 1 or 2. WAY EASIER. I didn't get depressed, but maybe thats because I was caring for myself? We have way less money being students, but somehow I get baby sitters more frequently. My husband has less time now he's a student yet helps out a lot more. Could I be figuring out how to be a person AND a mother??? At the same time?!?!?!?!?! Who knew this was possible?
