Kids Change Everything

If you have kids, then you know that there are numerous books that describe what pregnancy will be like. They tell you what to expect from conseption up til you give birth. They tell you how your body will change, how your moods will swing. The books will even tell you all the gross, nasty details of actually giving birth. Never google what after birth looks like.

And movies kind of show you what is going to happen but never really prepare you. You see with my first kid, when it came time to push (which that labor story is pretty simple, both kids were born within 30 minutes of getting to the hospital) I thought I had to scream. Honestly, I started yelling like it was the end of the world. Like Bruce Willis didn’t sacrafice himself on that astroid in Armagedon and we were all going to die. Why? Because if you see child birth in any movie, you see the mother screaming so loud that those waiting in the waiting room hear them and think something is wrong. But I didn’t need to scream and maybe that is because of my wide hips. I was always told that I had birthing hips. Maybe that is why both of my kids were born quite easily naturally. No epidural needle has ever touched my back. And that is the way that I wanted it. Because my aunt got an epidural back in the 80’s and they never told her to not get up after getting it and it honestly messed her back up and now she gets these insufferable migraines.

Now, I have been around kids for a very long time. I have been babysitting since I was 11 (not always by choice, thanks to my oldest brother) But I never read anywhere what to expect when having kids would do to my already messed up mental health.

When I was a kid, my mom worked all the time. My oldest brother is 9 years older than me. And as time went on, day cares got more expensive. So by the time my brother was 13 he was watching after me and our other brother who is only 5 years older than me. But as my brother got older he no longer wanted his weird little sister tagging along with him everywhere with his friends. So I would be left home alone. I remember being in 3rd grade being home alone at night, making my own dinner (thank you tv dinners) and putting myself to bed by 7 pm because I had EOG’s the next day.

My oldest brother loves scary movies and those creepy clowns. And I think I hate them because of him. He thought it was funny to run around the outside of the house banging on the windows while I was home alone inside. Which is partially why I am always so anxious at night. alone.

I was diagnosed with anxiety disorder when I was almost 16 because I was having constant panic attacks. In the middle of school. hyperventalating to the point that I almost pass out ( I did pass out once) So the school called my mom and she took me to the ER and my regular doctor shortly after where I was diagnosed. With this awful anxiety disorder. And my brother only continued to make things worse after that.

So, there I am with a kid. Who was premature. And so tiny. And I wasn’t as scared with her as I was with my second one which is weird. But there I was at almost 20 years old, responsible for this whole new human being. She was mine. My responsibility. And there my anxiety began to get worse. not that it wasn’t already bad. But it just made things a thousand times more there.

Before kids, I could push it so deep inside that no one could ever see. But now that I have kids…. that anxiety is so close to the surface. Because not only am I anxious about my actions and myself, I am anxious about my kids. And it is not the normal anxiety you feel like should you change jobs or not. Noooo

You see, what they never tell you in those expecting books is that you should expect your mental health to take a hit. You should expect to feel more overwhelmed because you’re battling a mental illness that now circles not only you but how your kids are. They never tell you that having kids changes everything.

My oldest daughter is the most sensitive child that I have ever seen. So when I am repeating myself for the 20th time in 10 minutes and I get a little aggravated so I get a little stern, she starts to cry and looks at me with these weeping eyse like I just killed her puppy. Which sends me into a whirlwind of am I a bad parent? This happens quite often.

When I was pregnant with my second child, I was in this awful car wreck that totaled my SUV. which isn’t as easy as you would think consider half of my windows were shattered and the rear end was in my second row. I had to get shots every week from 15 weeks to 34 weeks to make sure that I didn’t go into preterm labor. It was a rough pregnancy. There was a lot of back and hip problems that came from that wreck that couldn’t be addressed because I was pregnant. And having a second child, made me that more anxious as a mother.

I feel like a failure as a parent. Yes my kids are spoiled and 90% of the time they earn every toy that they get. My 1 year old picks up trash and throws it away. They get this little mental ATM credit that they can use when we go to the store. My oldest will ask if she has enough credit to get a small, medium or big toy. But they also know that twice a year they have to donate toys to those who don’t have many like they do. So I am trying to instill some responsibility and make them humble.

But more often than not, I go to bed wondering if I was a bad parent today. Did I yell too much? Did I not show enough love? Did I not love one them enough? Did I break their spirits? Did I put them down too much? Did I crush their dreams? When I was my oldest age…. I knew way more than I should have and I was way more afraid than a child at that age should have. I want my kids to be protected more than I ever was. But am I a bad parent?

What I wish I knew when I was pregnant was that having kids will and does change every single thing. I wish there was a book that could help expecting parents who have depression or anxiety on how to cope with the changes of becoming new parents.

Failure Alert!!!

 

It is amazing how something as simple as a 1st graders school project can make you feel like a failure.

 

Last week my daughter brought home that paper that tells you it is time for a project.

That dreadful paper.

This one said that our little kids would need to take a soda bottle and turn it into a famous person.

Now in my head… I have this amazing picture of how I want it to be.

But what is in my head and my ability to create anything…..is absolute crap.

Seriously.

I am the least artistic person in the entire world.

So I decide that for the clothing that this bottle is supposed to have for this project will need to be sewn.

I have sewn two things in my life. This project being one and a pillow for my ex being another. Both have been a disaster.

But I do it anyway because I love my daughter. And it is a miracle I did not stab myself with the needle.

I cut down the only size foam Walmart had to semi resemble a head and it is still too big for the body. So now the guy looks comical. Yay me.

I paint it and get paint all over my hands. I feel like I am a five year old in a grown persons body when I am painting. Ugh!!!

I hot glue the clothes to the bottle and put the arms on. Now I still have the shoes and legs as well as pants to put on but decide I will finish it when my kid gets home.

But then I look at it. I photograph it. I send the picture to my mother. And she starts to tell me little things that could be changed.

As if I didn’t already feel like shit about it.

Seriously.

It is amazing that a small little project can make me break down. Bawling. Wanting to sit in my bath tub with hot steamy water cascading over me. (Which honestly I did)

I don’t want my child to be embarrassed by this project. I don’t want my kid to get picked on because I honestly cannot create a simple project.

I worry how my kid is going to see the project. I worry how her teacher is going to grade it. I worry about the other kids picking on my kid. I don’t want her to be bullied because I am honestly a failure.

It is funny how a simple project can make you feel like you are a failure as a parent. I want her to turn in the best work she can. I don’t want her to get a bad grade because I suck. I swear if she comes home with a bad grade because of this project… I will probably hole up in my room for a month. Honestly. I am not joking.

I don’t know how to not feel this way.

It is weird how a simple project can remind you….

I am pretty much a failure at everything.

I played the flute in school….never made first chair.

I tried guitar….. I know one song and can barely play it right

I like photography….but I am constantly reminded that my cousin or father in law are better than me… Seriously… My daughter had a camera and was taking picture of my father in law and my step mother in law made the comment how my daughter might be a great photographer like her grandpa… Uhm… I do photography too. But of course every one forgets me.

I imagine art… I can’t create it.

I like to cook….only half my food is a hit.

I like to blog… I don’t put out great material. I am obviously not a writer.

I was hoping I could get a job at home since I do so much every single day. Being a stay at home mom is no walk in a park. But I can’t find anyone hiring and all the jobs I apply for…. I never get… another FAILURE.

It is just one of those nights where I want a pint of ice cream and a bottle of wine. But one kid is at my brothers and the other is awake so no drinking for me. And I say no drinking with my older kid at my brothers for the fact that I like to remain sober when my kids are awake and not here because there might be an emergency and I don’t want to be that parent that either drives drunk or says I can’t make it because I’ve been drinking.

 

Sorry for the rant guys. I am happy to say I now have 85 followers. It is pretty amazing that at least 85 people want to read what I write. You guys are awesome