Thursday, July 28, 2016

Hoo Boy

I started an ADHD medication today (that supplement helps, but I still want more help). I was a little irritated with my doctor.

Me: I'd like to be evaluated for ADD.
Him: Why is that?
Me: *Abandons mentally itemized list of textbook symptoms* I can't pay attention. And. Uh. Insomnia. My mind doesn't shut off at night. I feel constantly overwhelmed.
Him: How did you do in high school?
Me: *Abandons mentally itemized list of ways that life and school have felt like a constant string of--at best--Stooge-like pratfalls* Well, I'm smart. Ish. And, uh, high school wasn't terrible because I could learn enough just by being present to get OK grades. And then college was terrible. I was lost most of the time. It was hard.
Him: OK, what type of treatment are you looking for?
Me: *Abandons mentally itemized list of coping mechanisms that I have developed that are now failing me* I don't even know. I don't think I need anything super strong. I just couldn't even handle my first grader's projects last year, and I'm dreading this school year with two of them doing real school. Things.
Him: Well, I don't prescribe Adderall or Ritalin [which, despite the fantastic weight loss appeal, I'm not really interested in anyway], but you can try out this sample of Strattera.
Me: OK

fin

I mean, if he's not qualified to give that evaluation, that's great, but if I have it, I want to have a doctor tell me, "You definitely have ADD," so I can start using it as an excuse for everything normal that I can't seem to do. Just kidding. Kind of. And if I don't have it, I clearly need a life coach. So, I don't know. I don't even know how insurance works with these kinds of things. If I want a formal evaluation, can I just make an appointment with someone? Or do I have to get a referral from my doctor? Does that mean I have to go back? Does that mean I have to pick up the phone and make another appointment?

I just don't even know. I don't mind (some of) the flightiness and the slight craziness. I kind of like a lot of those aspects of my personality. They're fun. But I don't want to feel like vomiting every time my kid brings home a project. I don't want to forget appointments and small but important tasks. I don't want to lie awake at night wondering about the phases of the moon and why locusts eat so much and how do skunks stand to be around each other?

So I started this sample. It's a big sample. Like 45 days worth, starting at 25 mg and working up to 80. It's supposed to take 2 weeks to see any benefits, and then 2 weeks after the full dose starts is when you can really assess its efficacy. Yesterday I took my first sample, and I basically napped all day. It was wonderful, yet also frustrating. It felt so good to slip into sleep so easily, but, you know, child neglect and needing clean clothes and things like that. I slept like a rock last night, which might have been simple exhaustion. I haven't slept well in a couple of weeks.

Today, I took it with some apprehension. It was the girls' first day both in school. I wanted to use all that time as much as possible. No napping! I went for my first swim in a long time. No amount of weightlifting or running makes swimming easy the first time. There was a lot of gasping for air by the wall between sets. Then I lifted. It was leg day. I really hate leg day. You'd think with all that running, I'd have strong legs, but they're surprisingly weak. The squat rack is my own personal cage of humiliation.

Then work at the church. And here is where I swear the Strattera is already kicking in. I sat down, did my job, never lost focus, and got it done in three hours. I didn't even realize it until I was almost finished. I had at least half an hour of extra work this week, and I finished half an hour faster than I normally do. Huh.

I got the kids from school, made dinner, cleaned the kitchen, and went to back to school night. At no point did I feel overwhelmed today. It was weird. I have good and bad days, but there is usually at least one point during the day when I feel overwhelmed. On a good day, it's because my house actually is a mess, and there really are a lot of things to do. On a bad day, it's because I have to buy deodorant for Jeremy, and there are too many choices (this is a real example, and I seem to remember reaching out and grabbing the nearest one, then running away). Today was ripe to be a bad day. Back to school night alone is its own mountain of details and obligations and too many people talking. But I was fine.

So, I don't know. It still could have just been a good day, but maybe this will work out. And I didn't nap at all today!

Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Make it stop

I’m so sick of the gorilla story.

Reasons I am NOT sick of it:

1. I hate gorillas and think this particular one wasn’t important at all.
2. I think the mom did nothing wrong and is a special unicorn.

I’m sick of it because all of a sudden everyone knows two things:

1. That he or she would never look away long enough for said child to something idiotic and insane in the worst setting possible.
2. How he or she would react in such a situation.

I know exactly two things about myself/my family:

1. My kids are naturally pretty calm and well behaved. We didn’t do this. They came out that way. But Emmy is a wanderer. Every once in a while Grace’s brain shorts out, and she does something awful and completely out of character (like that time last October she stuffed her mouth FULL of vitamin D capsules she filched out of a tall cupboard). Thank God they have never done insane things in a busy street or a gorilla exhibit or with toxic vitamins, but it is not outside the range of possibility. I have lost Emmy at the zoo a few times. (This is actually why we don’t go anymore.) The last time we went, she just kept slipping away, silent like a snake. She once did a swan dive face-first off the changing table in the three seconds it took me to turn away and look at her sister’s owie. Sometimes it’s the well-behaved kids that do these things the most easily, since your guard is down. They know this and will exploit it.
2. Sometimes I surprise myself with how cowardly I am, and sometimes I surprise myself with how brave I am. I just never know what is going to happen. I am 99% sure jumping into the gorilla exhibit to save my kid wouldn’t even have occurred to me.

Can I say something crazy here? Can I say that mom could have done a better job in that specific moment, that this happened because she was too inattentive? Can I then also say that it could have been me? Or you? Or any of us? You can say a woman messed up without demonizing her. We can have compassion and be upset or angry about the situation at the same time.

If you do not leash, carry, stroller, or glue your child to your body every single time you are in the vicinity of something dangerous, this could happen to you and your kid.

Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Update

In a surprise to no one (except me), I ran out of my brain enhancing supplement because I forgot to order more. I emptied the bottle into my hand the other morning, and thought, "Huh. That's strange."

News flash, Naomi: THINGS RUN OUT.

More should be here tomorrow. This is good because, if I wasn't sure it was helping after I started taking it, I know for a fact that it helps now that I've run out. Life is for sure more exciting when surprises (aka things I've planned/ordered/promised and then forgotten) happen all the time. But panicked flight from one barely-remembered activity to another is not how I enjoy spending my life. Thank goodness the kids are on a two-week break from school right now.

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Facebook, late at night

When I've had some wine, a thing usually happens to me. A thing where I go about sharing all of my reserved feelings with everyone. I don't mean a drunken sloshed-up sentimental tirade. I mean an almost-entirely-sober gushing forth of all the emotions I typically find too vulnerable.

"I love you. You have no idea what your friendship means to me," I say to that woman who showed up with margaritas once four years ago when Jeremy was out of town forever, and one of my kids had a weird illness that kept us couch-bound for days.

"Oh... Kay..." she says.

"NO I MEAN IT."

Or, "Your hair is so pretty. How is it so shiny?" Or, "Your cake tastes like unicorn fruit, and can I live here?"

It's like I am holding back everything at all times, so the slightest lowering of inhibition (we're talking a single glass of wine here, friends) sends it flying out at anyone in my path. I don't feel repressed at any other time, but apparently I am. One glass of wine, and I will begin to tell you how lovely and kind and meaningful you are with the intensity of a Jack Nicholson character.

Well the same kind of thing happens on Facebook late at night. I go on sprees of liking and commenting (I never say anything I don't mean, mind you, but that actually makes it more uncomfortable sometimes), then wake up the next morning and have no idea why I have all these notifications.

I'm a super night owl. If I didn't have a very specific routine and didn't take mind-quieting drugs, I would never sleep. In ten years I would still be awake like a cat strapped to the hood of a speeding car. So I don't know why I get so weird at night. It's not as if I'm tired.

But for some reason, come 11:00, I perceive myself as the cleverest person on earth. I spend ten minutes crafting a witty comment, cackling all the while, and wake up the next morning to an effusive word salad. It's both embarrassing and amusing. I'm not sure I dislike it enough to ban myself from Facebook after 11.

There are odd things about myself that I like, and I'm not sure why. So if you've encountered this side of me, don't worry for my sanity. I'm just as bananas as I've always been, and it's never turned violent. So we're good, right?

Right?

Wednesday, May 4, 2016

Weird things that stress me out

"It goes by so fast! Treasure every moment!"

I hate that.

My kids are to the age where I do want time to stop; I want them to freeze right now, while they are sweet and carefree, but old enough for basic logic. If kids teleported to this stage after 6 months, we would probably have ten of them.

But I have no regrets about looking forward to when my toddlers and preschoolers were older. Of course I miss the fat rolls and on-demand snuggling. OF COURSE. Unless your life is an unmitigated hell, there is always something to miss. The frustration of those years changed me into a better mother and forged a bond with my kids that can't be replicated.

However. I do not regret casting my mind forward to the future in order to get myself through another day with a one year old and a two year old. I do not regret visualizing grown-up conversations with my three year old while she threw herself face-first off a piece of furniture and cried into my arms for the third time that day. I do not regret gagging and gritting my teeth through yet another stomach bug where my vomit-covered babies required immediate hugs.

I know some people get through those days by reminding themselves that these years are short, that the baby fat turns to ribs and lean muscle. I get that. You do whatever it takes to find joy in the moment.

But for me, knowing that these years are short is exactly what got me through it, for exactly the opposite reasons. I knew there would come a time when I would be able to have a conversation at dinner with my six- and seven-year-old about Harry Potter, and we would all more or less understand what each of us were saying. One of them would no longer scream until snot fell into the dinner I spent an hour crafting, while the other refused to eat anything but salad (yes, this is a valid complaint when it is literally the only thing your always-hungry child will eat) and rubbed the rest of her food all over her body.

During that time, commands to TREASURE IT only stressed me out. Someday I'll be 35 years old, and my kids will be at school, and my dried-up womb and I will sit on the living room floor, sobbing into baby clothes. 

No.

I'm not 35 yet, but this hasn't happened. Every time I eat dinner with a mom of a very young child, and her dinner gets cold while she cuts up his food into tiny pieces, I think, "I'm so glad that's over." Every time I change the diaper of a friend's baby, I think, "I'm so glad we don't have to pay for these anymore." Every time I hear a toddler throw a fit in a store, I remember every time I had to wrestle a writhing 30 pounds of Emmy out of Target in a swirl of humiliation and think, "YES! It's not mine!"

There are things I miss, but as a whole? I'm so glad those days are over.

(this is where God decides it's time for a surprise baby, right?)
_________________________________________________________________________
Now, the other thing that stresses me out, and this one is super weird.

Coloring books.

They're supposed to relieve stress, right? No. No, I look at a coloring book in the store and I feel like I'm looking at my term paper I haven't even started that's due tomorrow. Even pictures of them on Facebook stress me out. I can barely look at this image:


I just broke out into hives.

It is the weirdest thing, and I want an explanation for it. I keep Googling things like, "Coloring books make me anxious" and, "Adult coloring books cause me more stress," and I come up with everything except an explanation. On a planet with seven billion people, I find it hard to believe that I am unique in any one area, but this might be it. I may be the only person on earth who breaks into a sweat looking at a coloring book.

I don't know if any of you are psychologists (via a legit school or Google university, I don't care), but I really want an explanation for this.

Tuesday, June 2, 2015

On a lighter note

Emmy has begun trying to read. A couple of months ago, she could recognize maybe five letters and would literally run away every time I cracked open a book to read to her and her sister. A couple weeks ago, she still thought all letters made the same sound that they start with. And then today, she comes up, points to the Mary Kay brochure I have sitting on my night stand, and reads, "Earn While You Learn," needing no help except with "while." I don't know how "wh" threw her off when "earn" and "learn" did not, but whatever. It's Emmy.

I've been a little nervous about her non-reading because I am reading more and more about how beneficial it is to let kids learn to read when they want to and when they are ready. For a lot of kids, this happens as late as age 7. It was no problem with Grace. She has had a book glued to her face almost from birth. But I was a little concerned that Emmy would flunk kindergarten for not being able to read. I have no concerns about her mental development, but I am a little concerned that her extreme creativity might get squashed in traditional schooling. And I REALLY don't want to homeschool, ever. If my kid clearly needed something else, I'd do it, but it's like saying I'd eat live frogs if I were starving to death.

So she's suddenly reading words like "earn" and "learn," but can't read "boat" or "cat." I think she might take the same approach to reading as she did to talking: begin with odd words, hide ability for a long time, and then profit when everyone underestimates her. I still can't figure out if she's an evil genius, or if she really does just operate on a different wavelength from the rest of us. Maybe both.

Friday, May 22, 2015

I might lose a few readers now.

I don’t typically respond to trending topics on Facebook. It’s usually because I don’t care, or I’m embarrassed that I care, or I don’t want to ruffle feathers. I like people to like me. Too much.
But this Duggar family uproar is too much. It is really too much.
Jesus forgives me, and I’ve moved on, so I don’t need to face earthly justice.
Folks, this is not biblical. Perhaps Josh Duggar is truly repentant, and perhaps he truly isn’t subject to those predilections anymore. I have no idea. But it is not okay to wait for the statute of limitations to run out before you confess your sins.
“Be subject for the Lord’s sake to every human institution, whether it be to the emperor as supreme, or to governors as sent by him to punish those who do evil and to praise those who do good. For this is the will of God, that by doing good you should put to silence the ignorance of foolish people. Live as people who are free, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but living as servants of God. Honor everyone. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the emperor.” 1 Peter 2:13-17
The Christian thing to do would be to turn yourself in to face justice in the courts, not run off to work with a family friend, and then tell a shady state trooper about it when you come back, and keep the whole thing under wraps as much as possible. I cannot even imagine what it would be like to learn this about your son; I hope that I would do the right thing, but I can’t guarantee it. However, my sympathy for grieving parents and a likely terrified kid doesn’t change right and wrong. It is WRONG purposefully evade justice.
Forgiveness is personal. It goes from the wronged person to the perpetrator, from God to the sinner.
The courts deal in justice. Earthly justice. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that we are to escape earthly consequences of sin just because we are sorry, and God forgives us. We are to submit to the governing authorities, unless they mandate that we sin. Can you imagine what would happen if all anyone had to do to get out of jail time was to say he was sorry, and Jesus forgave him? That would be wrong.
Yet we are closing ranks around the Duggars because… because why? Because the apology actually sounded like a real apology (It really does sound like deep regret, none of this non-apology “I’m sorry if you feel that…” nonsense)? Because the people in charge at the time “dealt” with it? Because they’re the most famous Christians we have, so we’d better present a united front?
I’m not shocked by the Duggars’ handling of this sin. (Yes, SIN. It was not a mistake. Call it what it is, for the love, especially when you are apologizing.) I might think they did it all wrong, but it doesn’t surprise me. Like I said, I can’t imagine what I would do as a parent in this situation.
But fellow Christians, we should not be rushing to comfort the perpetrator after he slips under the radar just long enough to escape the consequences. Let me be clear: Eternal consequences are God’s business; nothing is too big for him to forgive. But he commands us to obey the earthly law (and at the time that Peter was written, let’s not forget we’re talking about Christians under Roman law). Obedience to earthly law elevates God and his mercy; it does not diminish it. We do not glorify God by pretending sin is just a really bad mistake.
We glorify God by calling sin what it is and praising his ability to forgive even the most vile manifestations of it. But their actions do not “put to silence the ignorance of foolish people [or non-foolish people].” This looks a lot more like using freedom as a cover-up for evil.
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Edit: I realized after I wrote this that this might come out too much on the OTHER side of things. I have… certain opinions about the Duggars and their theology, but that aside, they are my Christian brothers and sisters. The personal issues of forgiveness and repentance are between them, the victims, and their church leaders (if they have such a network of accountability; I’m not sure). People who profess repentance and appear to be repentant should be taken at their word (although I don’t think I would have Josh Duggar babysit my children; forgiveness should not be conflated with stupidity). We shouldn’t shun people for this, especially when we know so little of the details. I am talking about the way we tend to view professing Christians who have done terrible things and equated the forgiveness of God with escape from legal justice.