Potty training... or lack there of.

It's been something he's been signaling for quite a while... and you know, why not just add some more on to the plate?  He loves his potty, he wants you to take his diaper off and sit on it, but then he proceeds to stand up, take 2 steps, and squat down and pee on the floor.  He identifies how to make himself go, we just need to put steps one and two together! 

Today has been a very frustrating day for me.  Cole has been screaming all day at the slightest little things.  Plus, he's been quite hyper - a.k.a. rough - so I haven't been able to even get a break for 5 seconds, because he'll be on top of his brother in the bouncer.  It's days like this that I feel it, like flashbacks.  Can't someone else just take him for a little while?  I just need 5 minutes without someone crying and whinig.  But that's motherhood.  And even though I wanted to run, I didn't.  I need to celebrate the little things, and know that I am fighting this successfully.  I will not give in to this. 

As long as there are peanut butter cups. 

Well, I have 2 packs of pullups - one designs, one cool feel - diapers for night, and the next step will be underwear.  I figure we'll go about a week in pull-ups so he understands the feeling of being wet, and then move on to actually being wet. 

Wish me luck... and sanity!


Resurrection of the Blog

After much neglect - a year's worth to be exact - I had no plans to return.

It's been a long struggle.  In the end however, I have two gorgeous boys, an awesome husband, and what many would look upon as a perfect life.  On one hand, I know how lucky I am.  On the other, I'm not happy.  I'm struggling.  It's been a challenge since the start - struggling to get pregnant, a miscarriage, a rough pregnancy with Cole, what we believed to be PPD, another struggle to get pregnant, a downward spiral while pregnant with Owen, and repeat pregnancy issues with Owen.  To the point where, the day Owen was born, my Celexa was doubled.  Shortly thereafter, I was also put on Xanax, got a psychiatrist, got a therapist, and now, moving to the blog. 

I have struggled particularly with catastrophic thoughts.  When the meds aren't enough, I easily find myself wishing and hoping there would be some serious accident that I would just happen to die in.  When the meds are enough, I am in constant panic that I'm about to die in some freak accident.  I'll elaborate more later.  I also have serious control issues.  In an attempt to not up the meds even more, we are trying to work through it in therapy.  I am very easily frustrated and find solace in the thought of running away.  Escaping would be too easy for me - I really need to work on not checking out.

I'm actually appalled that these thoughts come so easily, and that they can be so comforting.  What kind of mom, in a moment of her almost 2 year old's tantrum, gets relief in the thought that she could leave this all in a heartbeat?  I never wanted to be anything but a mom.  Okay, maybe a famous singer or actress too, but the number one goal was to be a mom.  I look at my boys, and I am amazed with them all the time - but one wrong move, one scream, one tantrum, and I could drop everything and run away in a second. 

So, in an effort to retrain my brain's way of thinking, my therapist has me doing certain exercises - and one of the most important is to air out the feelings.  A journal of sorts - so I can look back and see the distorted thoughts my brain creates. 

Enter the blog.

Welcome back, interweb stalkers.  <3