Depression sucks

Another day of self sabotaging, downward spiraling depression. It is not fun. Sometimes I fantasize about ending everything. It would be so easy, but I would hurt too many people I love.
Days like today and dealing with people just makes it worse.

Work at home Mom

I constantly see comments on Facebook and in blogs about how hard it is to be a "___" mom, and how they get so little respect from other classes of moms. I find this funny and sad.
I have been a working mother. I had a full time job and my husband stayed home to care for our daughters. It was great and it was awful. I was good at my job and I loved the satisfaction of a job well done. The downfall was my exhaustion at the end of the workday and my desire to just decompress the first two hours I was home. This conflicted with my children's sleep schedule so most days, I didn't get to decompress as much as I would have liked. I also found that  I didn't have the same connection with my kids that I had before moving to full time work. They looked to their dad for comfort when they fell and didn't like the food I made as much as dad's when I cooked. I also missed out on a lot of firsts and a lot of milestones. It was very hard, but necessary for our family to survive. I constantly worried that my kids felt I loved my job more than them.
Soon I was so tired of being out of the house and away from my growing girls, that I decided to give my two week notice. My husband had found two very steady clients for his sound tech services and was now traveling heavily. My first week staying home was awesome.... for me. My kids missed their dad and were on pins and needles around me as they hadn't had to figure out my buttons for a long time. They were such angels. I wondered what my husband was talking about when he warned me of the stress of being home with the kids.
Once they were used to me and behaving only as boundary pushing, destructive, conniving, little angels can behave, I wished for my job back. Talk about never being off the clock. I spent all day trying to stop disasters and all night cleaning the ones I was too late to halt. I was not as good at managing three small kids as I was at managing 20 employees. The house was never as clean as when my husband was home with the girls, I never used to hear "I hate you" or " you are mean" before I decided to stay home with them. I constantly worried that I was too strict or not strict enough. I knew the cleanliness of the house was not up to par. Yes, I was able to be there the first time my then youngest daughter cut her hair by herself (and all the pants in her drawer) and I was able to answer the awkward question posed by my kindergartener after she heard something the big kids were saying at recess, but I always felt like I no longer belonged to myself. I was a slave to house and children.
I know that last statement will get under the skin of people who feel nothing in the world is as great as giving yourself completely to the full time care of your home and family. To that I say, you're right. There is nothing as great as complete sacrifice, but I am not willing to lose myself that way. I am slightly selfish, no I can be honest, I am very selfish. I have a fantasy that when my kids leave the house and it's just me and my husband, there will be no awkwardness. I will still be me. I will not have to figure out what to do with my life now that I can no longer fixate on my kids. My husband will not have to wonder if I will still be the girl he married. He will see that while I have grown over the years, all the things he loved about me are still there. There great parts as well. My kids love me. They see how hard I work for them and often surprise me by cleaning up without being asked. My two oldest will sit and tell me their dreams for when they are all grown up and 16. I am able to nurture and develop their talents. Sometimes I understand true joy as I watch my girls turn into strong young women. They are awe inspiring.
This is getting off topic.
The whole point of this was to talk about my situation of the last three years. I have started working from home. It sucks. Why did I or anyone ever think this was a good option?! Now that I have 5 girls to raise, I thought it would be easier for me to start my own business from home than to try and get a flexible scheduled job. It was easier to start the business. Everything else has been a gut wrenching, ideal crushing, eye opening challenge.
It is a fail-fest. Since my hubby is out of town a lot, I have to try to fit in the business, childcare, housework and lately I have gone back to school, so homework as well. It could be my ADD, but every moment I spend on one I see the growing list of needs in every other category. How am I supposed to answer phones, make products, entertain small children, keep the house clean, do my schoolwork, all in the same 24 hrs? It is impossible. My children hate my business because they have to compete with it for my attention. I hate whatever I am working on at the time because it keeps me from everything else.
I guess the truth I am coming to is this. Where you are is hard. If it wasn't, it wouldn't be life. It would be a movie. As much as we all wished we lived in a romantic comedy. It will never happen.
Hopefully someday I will learn to balance kids and work and house. Until then, know that wherever you are, I respect the challenge you are facing. It is hard. Don't let anyone tell you it isn't. Just know that where they are is hard too.

What Have I Done?????!!!

As a mother, I feel it is my duty to raise my daughters with the knowledge that they are beautiful daughters of God and they should act as such. My husband has lovingly resisted the manly urge to teach his children the art of "pull my finger," "the scratch and adjust," "you should see what I left in the toilet, no really, come see it," and belching the ABC's. I am far from a girly girl, but thought that I could teach my daughters how to behave like ladies.
This last week as Nick was out of town for work, I found that my daughters are as disgusting as they can be.
Katlyn came home laughing at how grossed out the boys at her table were when she farted during the math test. When I asked why she couldn't do her stinky business at another time when not so many were around, she got very serious and said, "My tummy was hurting, and you said never to do anything to hurt myself." Even as I tried to explain that her behavior, while not bad, was not pleasant for those in smelling range she just laughed and went back to doing her homework. I gave up trying to convince her of the benefits of ladylike behavior and I went back to doing dishes.
Kara, who would never fart around anyone if she could help it, is fascinated with poo. how someone could hate gas, but love poo I have no idea. She has taken to leaving the toilet unflushed just so she can share her hobby with everyone else in the house.
Valentina, while young and innocent, almost always has her hand in her diaper. Granted she has eczema on the inside of her leg, just inside the diaper line, but it never looks good to see a little girl walking around with her hand down her pants.
Eva thankfully has no bad habits yet, but I am sure they will come...
What I do wonder is where I went wrong? I have tried to be a good example to my girls, Nick has not taught them anything objectionable, and manners are a must in our home. The only benefit is that when these girls are teenagers these habits may repulse boys and I won't have to worry about them. Though Nick warns me that boys like girls who fart and burp and do all manner of disgusting things. ....there is no way to win.

Reposting of Thats For Girls

Having been raised in a family of 6 boys and 3 girls, plus two stressed out parents, I have found that I have a very unique outlook on what is healthy interaction among siblings. My husband on the other hand has only 2 sisters, one younger and one older. He spends most of his day wondering why our girls fight so much with each other and every time they make a stupid decision he is convinced they will turn out to be pregnant teen druggies. I keep trying to tell him our girls are just stupid kids not pre-pubescent hoodlums, but his fears always seem to get the best of him in the end.

The other day, i was very sick and while hubby was out working i was trying to keep the tornadoes i call children from destroying our house. As dinner approached i began cleaning the kitchen so we could have pans and plates for our dinner, and asked the girls to watch the 1 year old. Everything seemed to be going well as i was cleaning, and i heard no fighting as I began cooking, so i assumed that everything was relatively OK. Well I hear the sink in the bathroom turn on and just as i was about to go see what the girls were doing in the bathroom, Hubby comes in the front door. I guess my first mistake was being comfortable with the hours of silence from 3 smart, but stupid kids, the second was asking hubby to check and see what the girls were doing so i could finish making dinner.

His cry of “What the heck happened in here?,” told me that I was going to see how much destruction could be accomplished in silence. I reluctantly dragged my self down the hall to the bathroom door to see the one year old sitting fully clothed in the running sink and covered head to toe in dark burgundy lipstick, the 7 year old was using conditioner to style the 5 year olds hair and the five year old was applying liquid eyeliner to her arms to give herself “tattoos.”

When the girls finally processed the question that had burst from their father’s lips the 5 year old replied, “What? makeup is for girls, not for Dads. you don’t need it.” The bizarre jump in kid logic was too much for their father and he walked out complaining that his girls were going to be in jail before they were 16, because they have no respect for the property of others. i on the other hand did not help the situation as I started the girls in the process of cleaning up, when I said “Yes makeup is for girls, and cleaning is for children. Now get busy.”

To be fair they did an ok job of cleaning themselves, but the 1 year old still has a pink tinge to her skin except in her armpits and back where she couldn’t get the lipstick on herself. notice i didn’t say clean diaper area. When i took off her diaper i found she had managed to get a chunk of lipstick in there too and smear it around. The girls are now grounded from makeup and their daddy is terrified that his wild girls will rebel any day now. to which I say “rebelling is for girls…”

Reposting of The Joys Of Pregnancy

I have had an extended break from this blog due to an unexpected pregnancy that has made me wonder why Adam couldn’t have been the first to eat from the tree so Men could bear children, or at least it could have been painless for us.

I am now in my sixteenth week and though I can feel the baby move, this is my fourth pregnancy, and the only magic in pregnancy for me now is the enormous amounts of puke that comes out even when I only had three bites of food.

I do love to brag though that I am part of the less than one percent of women who actually lose weight by being pregnant. It isn’t that I don’t eat or anything like that. Its the huge amount of calories I burn while simultaneously puking, holding my one year old’s head out of the way, using the other hand and opposite leg to hold my two older children apart from each other as they try to rip out the other’s eyes, and tell my husband where is the masking tape that he urgently needs at 8 in the morning. Then because I can never hold the one year old’s head out of the way long enough I have to do laps around the house chasing her so I can wash her off and anywhere she has dripped as well. This routine has been known to occur up to four times a day. In fact it works so well I have wondered about making a workout video to sell.

Thankfully this will be our last pregnancy. I am getting sterilized ASAP after this baby is born. I am not sure what procedure I will go through, but since we don’t have insurance I have called a few Vets and found out I can get spayed for $45.

Reposting Of Shut UP And Feel Good About Yourself Already!

Why is it so hard to make sure your kids have a good self esteem? No matter what I say or do, my kids love to insert negative comments about themselves in conversation.
yesterday, My five year old started crying because she “was too dumb to do anything right.” i asked why she felt that way and she said she kept getting in trouble fo doing stupid things. My answer of “well, stop doing stupid things and you won’t be stupid,” didn’t seem to help her. Then I tried the caring mother tactic and said “Honey, you are not stupid, you just sometimes make choices that get you in trouble or hurt.” The most amazing part was her very intelligent, but self defeating reply of “but doesn’t that make me dumb, when I do thing to hurt myself?”
Not wanting to answer yes,I quickly changed the subject to school and asked if she was looking forward to kindergarten. God has no pity on parents though and her older sister walked in and said “She can’t go to kindergarten, she is too dumb cause she still sucks her thumb.”
This started a bunch of name calling and crying which I stopped with a phrase that proves my kids aren’t too stupid: “The next girl that calls someone a name gets their lips tied to their ears!!!

Reposting of How Hard Is It To Look In A Drawer?

First off I want to say, I love my husband. He is an amazing man who forgives all the crap I put him through on a daily basis. He works hard to support our family and is a wonderful father. I also want to mention how much I love my beautiful children. They try so hard to be good kids. I say this to soften the blow when I say “How hard can it be to look in a drawer and see what is inside it?”

Every time I fold laundry and hand it of to my kids or my husband, there seems to be only two possible actions for them. Either they shove everything into whatever drawer they come to first or they throw the clothes on the bed or floor. Then I inevitably hear the next day. “I can’t find any underwear,” or “Why is there a sandwich in my shirt drawer?”

Now, in the case of my children, I understand that their mental capacity is not yet great enough to use logic like: underwear in underwear drawer or unfinished sandwhich in the trash. But my beloved and extremely intellegent husband always replies with the response “I don’t know where anything goes.” When I ask him why he doesn’t try looking in the drawers, he gets this terrified look on his face like he had once found something worse than an old sandwich in his drawers. I don’t know how to combat that.

So for now I just keep asking them to put away the folded clothes and to my hubbies credit, if it is his clothes he does a great job, but we no longer try to move outside his comfort zone. My children on the other hand will often come back into my room 5 minutes later holding the folded clothes and proudly say “Here’s my dirty clothes mom. They were on the floor.”