Posts from — January 2009

As I type this, Gage is sitting in my bedroom doing his schoolwork. The problem is that he has been at work since 9:30 this morning, and it is now 2:30. The amount of independent work I gave him should have taken about 1.5 hours, so he is obviously wasting LOTS of time. I’ve gone through phases of extreme frustration today, as I’ve walked in and found him staring off into space or been interrupted by him asking me if the painting above my bed is a picture or a painting, because he would really like to go to a place like the one he sees in the picture (yes, he really said that). For whatever reason, he has been highly distracted today, but I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m just not going to worry about it. There are natural consequences to his choice to waste time. He will have no free time outside (which is absolute torture to him). And, he’ll be doing school all day, rather than a portion of the day.

Shea and I have had a low key day, because he is recovering from an ear infection and I’m fighting off a cold. So, I’ve decided to just go with it. I haven’t done any school with Gage, because he’s not done with his independent work. But, that’s okay, because I think I needed some rest. It has been a quiet day, after all is said and done, so I can’t complain.

Except, that right about now, the knocks from neighbor kids will begin, because Gage isn’t roaming the neighborhood, as usual. Oh, and the fits and crying will start when he is done with school and realizes he has lost all of his free time. And, now it begins……………..It was nice while it lasted.

My friend, Emily, and I took our boys to the park last week to enjoy a nice break from the cold. The temps got into the 50’s last week, and now, today, we’re back down to 18 degrees. Geez! The weather here doesn’t stay the same for long. Because it has been so cold, I haven’t been getting out and using my new camera as much as I’d like to. I was so thrilled to have the chance to take it with me and have some fun. Enjoy the pics!

Two weeks after my first child was born, everything fell to pieces.  I can still remember it like it was yesterday, and 9.5 years have passed. The day began as a normal day would, I suppose.  My husband (for background info on this go here) and I took Gage for his 2 week appointment at the pediatrician.  Everything looked fine, and we left the office with our sweet little bundle snugly tucked into his car seat.  We began the 20 minute drive home, with me in the driver seat.

At some point in our short trip home, I began praying out loud for my husband, because I perceived him to be acting really strange.  The more I prayed, the madder he became, and I became more and more convinced that he was under a spiritual attack.  He kept telling me to stop, and I refused, even going as far as loudly and forcefully commanding the evil to flee from him.  He began to be concerned about me driving, because I was freaking out, to say the least.  He told me to pull the car over into a Hardee’s parking lot.  He jumped out, and I jumped out, continuing in my quest to rid him of the evil I perceived to be so present.  I remember the look  of terror on his face as he used our cell phone to call my parents.  By this time, I had gotten back into the driver’s seat, and watched him finish his frantic call.

Before I knew it, my Mom was stooped down in front of me, extremely scared and concerned.  I couldn’t understand why they were so scared.  It was so obvious to me that my husband was under some sort of spiritual attack, and I thought that Satan was blinding them.  I remember saying to my Mom, as she tried so hard to understand what was happening, “Do you see these eyes, Mama.  These eyes are not my own.  They are Jesus’ eyes looking at you.  It’s not me, it’s Jesus.”

Within minutes, and to my surprise, the ambulance arrived.  A couple of men in EMT uniforms came over to us and told me that I would need to come with them.  I tried to refuse and became frantic over the fact that I was going to be separated from my baby, who I was nursing.  How was he going to eat?  And, why did I have to go to the hospital?  Why is everyone turning against me?  Why don’t they believe that my husband is under a spiritual attack?  They are all blinded!

They somehow managed to get me into the ambulance.  I arrived at the triage area of the psychiatric hospital, and my Mom met us there.  I was trying in every way possible to find a way out of the situation.  I even asked people sitting around me to let me use their cell phones to call home.  I felt like I was in a bad dream that I could not awaken from.  No one believed that I didn’t need to be there, and I didn’t understand why everyone was turning against me.  I remember being called into an office, where they asked me some questions.  The next thing I knew, I was standing in the middle of the psychiatric wing, screaming and fighting in protest to being put there against my will.  A group of nurses surrounded me as I fought, and ended up bringing me down to the floor, where they injected me with a tranquilizer.

I woke up in a dimly lit, unfamiliar room with 2 beds and sparse furnishings.  I slowly, groggily, walked into the bathroom, and tried to look at myself in the metal mirror over the sink.  I was still dressed in the clothes I was admitted in, and it was cold in the room.  I was wearing a spaghetti strap tank top, a mini skirt and no shoes.  My underwear had been soiled, more than likely during my struggle with the staff, and I threw them into the trash can.  I felt like I had been stripped of everything, including my baby.  I had no rights and I was stuck in a strange place against my will.

So, this is how my first (unfortunately, it happened more than once) two week stay at a psychiatric hospital began.  There is much more to the nightmare that unfolded before our eyes, but that will have to be for another day.  Stay tuned for Part 3……………

My blog friend, Beth, at Total Mom Haircut posted a fun meme today.  Here are the rules taken straight from her post:

1) Post a picture of whatever bag you are carrying as of late. No, you cannot go up to your closet and pull out that cute little purse you used back before you had kids. I want to know what you carried today (or the last time you left the house - it’s freaking snowing here so you know I’m in my velour pants today and the green precious is sitting on the steps).

2) I want to know how much it cost:) And this is not to judge, because I’m honestly telling you I was ready to put down some cash; I just got lucky. This is for entertainment purposes only. So spill it. And if there is a story to go along with how you obtained it, I’d love to hear it.

3) Tag some chicks. And link back to this post so people know why the heck you’re showing everyone your diaper bag/non-diaper bag.

Here’s the bag I’ve been carrying lately.  I am happy to say that I have not carried a diaper bag for about 2 years.  But, all of that will change very soon:).

I did not pay a dime for this bag, because I bummed it off of my little sis.  I actually never buy bags.  In fact, I think the last bag I bought was a diaper bag purchased 3 1/2 years ago.  I am lucky to have a sister who supplies all my purse needs.  She buys them, gets tired of them, and then passes them on to me!

Now, for the tagging:

Emily and Nikki- because I know both of you are purse queens.

Carla- because we live so far apart now and I want to know the minute details of your life.

And, anyone else who wants to join in on the fun!

I’ve wanted to write for quite a while about a segment of my life that is much easier to just forget. But, I know that what I went through can be used to give others hope, and I’ve wanted to use my blog as a venue for that, but never have.

Now that I am pregnant again, and thinking once again about the precautions we will need to take, I figured I’d go ahead and begin the story. I will, in no way, be able to do it all in one post. But, I figured I’d just start and see where it takes us.

Let me begin by saying, there are things I will tell you that you will have a hard time believing. When I tell people the story, I feel like I am one of those weirdos that needs to make up the craziest lie she can think of just so she can get attention. Well, I’m sorry to say that all of what you will hear is true. It was an absolute nightmare, and by far the absolute scariest time of my life. One of my biggest fears now is losing the ability to control my mind. It is the worst thing I have ever experienced.

I guess the first thing I need to do is explain the difference between postpartum psychosis and postpartum depression. Psychosis is much different than depression because it begins with a split from reality. A person is no longer able to distinguish their delusions from reality.

One of the hardest things for me to deal with after I recovered was the flippant, ignorant responses I would get when I told people I had been through postpartum psychosis. I found that the instant I mentioned postpartum, they didn’t even hear the word psychosis. The response usually was something along the lines of, “Yeah, my sister was really depressed after her baby was born”, or “I know a lot of women who have been through that. It’s pretty common.” Um, no. Actually, postpartum psychosis is pretty rare. 1/10 out of 1% of mothers experience the nightmare. (those were the statistics back in ‘99)

Because of those responses, I began keeping pretty quiet about it. I did join a support group in hopes of encouraging women going through the same thing, and I’m glad that I was able to do that for a time. But, in general, I kept my mouth shut, unless I happened to meet someone who needed help.

So, I’m writing here now, in hopes that some moms (and fathers) will find encouragment from my story. There is life after the worst kind of postpartum issues. If my life turned around, yours or your loved ones can, too. Once you read the story, you’ll understand why I am able to confidently say such a thing. Stay tuned………..

Click below to read:

Parts 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6.

As a kid, my mom made banana muffins often. She would call the ones that ran over the edge to form a bigger top, “runaway muffins”. I can remember wanting to be the first one to pick a muffin so that I would be guaranteed one of the “runaways”. Now, since I’m an adult and I can make them like I want, I make ALL of them to be “runaways”.

What’s funny about this recipe is that for about 2 years straight, every time I wanted to make banana muffins, I had to call my mom to get the recipe. I’d write it down on a scrap piece of paper and then lose it, which then made it a necessity to call her again when I needed the recipe. I seriously think it was a subconscious thing. I didn’t really want that recipe written and saved, because if it was, I wouldn’t have to call my Mama for it. It became such a joke, everytime I had to call her once again for the infamous banana muffin recipe. Now, I have the recipe written on a piece of paper, tacked on a magnetic strip in my kitchen. Sometimes, I think about throwing it away, just so I’ll have reason to call for it again.

Here’s the infamous recipe (originally taken from the back of a box of Bisquick):

1 egg

2 c. bisquick

3-4 mashed bananas (very ripe)

1/4 cup sugar

2 T. milk

2 T. melted butter

Bake at 400 for 10-15 minutes, or until light golden.

~Makes about 12

For the past few weeks, I have grown increasingly  frustrated with the piles of laundry collecting in our hallway.  We keep the laundry hamper in a corner of the hallway, and within a very short time period, I was finding mounds and mounds around the hamper, strewn down the hall.  What I began to realize is that most of the clothes accumulating were coming from a certain 9 year old boy who gains much pleasure from layering his clothes to go out in the cold.  This certain kid was then taking all of the layers off, including the muddy ones, and throwing them into the ever increasing, never disappearing pile.  I could not seem to convince him that the under  layers could be worn again the next time he went out to play.

Last Thursday, I breathed a sigh of relief when I successfully washed and put away all of the dirty laundry.  By Saturday………….guess what?  The basket was overflowing again.  I was about to lose it and told Jared that we had to come up with a solution.  The solution:  Gage is now in charge of washing his own laundry.

I bought this over the door rack for $2.50 and the laundry bag for $1.00 in the dollar section at Target.   Gage is fully in charge of his own clothes now.  I don’t know why we didn’t think of this sooner!  The hamper in the hall has been amazingly low, and I’m loving it!  Oh, and one day, his wife is gonna love me for it!

From The Washington Post

Reviewed by Daniel J. Levitin

“Lopez, a columnist for the Los Angeles Times, first happened upon Nathaniel Ayers ‘dressed in rags on a busy downtown street corner, playing Beethoven on a battered violin that looks like it’s been pulled from a dumpster.’  The guy sounded ‘pretty good.’ Later Lopez found out that Ayers had been a classmate of cellist Yo-Yo Ma at Julliard in the 1970s until he suffered a schizophrenic breakdown. Forced to leave school, Ayers ended up performing on Skid Row in Los Angeles, all but oblivious to the surrounding muggers, drug addicts, prostitutes and sewer rats.

Lopez is a natural storyteller, giving us a close-up view of the improbable intersection of musicianship, schizophrenia, homelessness and dignity.”

I highly recommend this book.  It has, in many ways, confirmed and solidified some passions God has placed in my heart over the past year.  My hope is that Jared and I will be able to love the people around us as wholeheartedly as Steve loved Nathaniel.  A man, who, for many years was just another homeless person littering the streets.  Everyone has a story, and this book was a good reminder to dig deeper.

I made a crock pot meal today and we all loved it.  I love using my crock pot because it seems to make dinner so much easier.  I found a recipe for Coconut Curry Beef and it simmered in the kitchen all day.  Our meal consisted of:

Coconut Curry Beef

Rice (cooked in a can of beef broth)

Sweet Potatoe Patties (you can find them in the freezer section)

Steamed broccoli and cauliflower

Naan bread from Trader Joe’s

I am really bad about sticking to any kind of routine apart from what my life deems necessary.  But, I’m thinking it would be neat to share a recipe once a week.  I’m not going to set a schedule or anything, because that would be a guarantee that I would let you all down.  Just stay tuned and see if I follow through!

What did you have for dinner?  Leave me a comment and share with us!

We stayed in STL for Christmas this year and it was very relaxing and good to be together.  We were able to spend some time the week before Christmas with our dear friend, Mandy.  Then, Jared’s Dad and sister came out to visit us for a few days.  It felt good to not be traveling, but I have to admit it wasn’t easy being away from my side of the family.  I wish we could see them more, but that’s just the way things go when you’re monetarily challenged!  I’ll stop talking and pass you on to the pictures.  By the way…..most of these were taken with my old camera.  I got a NEW camera for Christmas, and I am thrilled.

This angel topped our tree when I was growing up.  My Mom passed it on to me, and I love it.

Mandy took these pics and we were laughing at the look on my face by the end of our fun.

Our Christmas meal with Jared’s Dad and sis

Gage with his new camera (wearing his new, handmade cape from Granny)

Ready to work with his new tools

Seriously?  That’s it?

Downtown STL

Winter Wonderland at Tilles Park

Made from a soda can on a tree representing Uganda (at Lady of the Shrine display)

His very own dinosaur egg!

Wow. Now that I uploaded all of the pictures I can totally tell which ones were taken with my new camera.  Can you guys?

And, last but not least………. In case you, who are far off, wonder how my belly is growing these days:

(The smudges that appear to be on my clothes is toothpaste on the mirror.  Welcome to my boy’s bathroom!)

And, that’s all, folks!  Happy new year!!!