Motherhood: The Perpetual State of PMS

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Well, ok motherhood doesn’t come with bloating, but the emotional highs and lows of being a mom closely resemble my hormonal change during the month. I won’t lie. I’ve always been that person that gets overcome with emotion and cries thinking about a moment. What someone put into something; what it must feel like; etc.

My children mock me because I cry at every one of their events from First Communions to dance recitals, to football banquets. It’s jut a known family fact that if my kids are doing something special, in all likelihood I will cry. I tell them it’s my God-given right as a mother.

Today my oldest daughter, who is 11, had a recital with her vocal coach. She is my shy kid. It’s not easy for her to get up in front of people and she panics. When she panics, I panic for her. I decided in the car the other day that I’m like an empath. I take on other people’s feelings. I’ll get back to that in a moment.

Last year was the first year she sang alone and she did fantastic. She completely broke down during intermission and didn’t think she could do it, which then had me on edge wondering if she was truly going to be able to do it and what we’d do if she ran off or it didn’t go well. I wasn’t going to let her back out because I knew she could do it, and I knew she had the talent. There is no way I’d force her to sing in front of an audience if she wasn’t really ready to do so.

This year she shocked me and chose a song that was really hard. It switched keys in the beginning and switched octaves later on. The good news was she was singing BEFORE intermission this time. She would get it over with and not have to panic for the entire recital.

I dropped her off to warm up and my younger daughter and I went to a few stores to kill some time. I ended up buying my daughter a bracelet that says, “She Believed She Could, So She Did.” It’s a struggle to get my daughter to believe in herself. I wanted to get her something to remind herself that she needs to remember she has the strength inside to do whatever she sets her mind to.

As I stood in the store choosing the bracelet in tears (again), my younger daughter who does not sugar coat said, “Mom, pull yourself together.” (She’s 9.) I was blessed with my youngest daughter for a reason. She challenges me a lot and will likely be the cause of all of my gray hair, but she make me laugh like no one else can, and she says exactly what she thinks which is mighty refreshing.

I popped a half a Xanax when we got to the concert, don’t judge. I did okay through her groups numbers, but the solo killed me and I cried the whole time. Oh I tried to cry quietly, but apparently I made everyone in the rows across from me cry because they were watching me cry. But, my daughter sang beautifully and I was so proud.

Later we went to dinner and once again my kids were asking why I cry so much at events and I think my son was wondering if I cry in particular at his events. I’ll admit I don’t cry during football at this point. I cried the first time his name was announced. I cry at the banquets when the coach is speaking about him, but he doesn’t always catch those moments. My son has been struggling to find his place in the world of sports. He desperately wants to be a great baseball and football player and maybe he will be, but right now he’s just okay. But when it comes to golf, the kid is amazing.

I turned the subject to golf and said, “Well someday when you’re playing at the Master’s, I’ll be at the side of the putting green sobbing while you’re trying to make a very important putt.” I also asked if he’d wear pants with flamingos on them if he was going to be a professional golfer but I was completely shot down on that.

My kids are all kind of finding their own way and it’s a good thing, but they are getting big and it’s just a new phase for us. My son does baseball, football and golf. My oldest daughter was just offered a spot on a dance team, and my youngest has moved away from dance and found a great love of gymnastics. Honestly, I could care less what they pursue as long as they are active and happy.

Back to the empath issue. When I was driving the other day I was thinking about a friend that was going through a difficult situation. Immediately I can put myself into her shoes (as much as possible) and feel that devastation to the point of almost a depression. It can also go the other way. When a friend has a wonderful success, my feeling of happiness and joy for them is very intense, like I can feel the joy they have inside. I decided I’m an empath and that’s not a good thing.

It causes me to have some highs and lows that really have nothing to do with me. Do I sound crazy enough yet? Eh…it’s a blog. If I’m crazy, I’m crazy. At least I’m honest about it.

In other news, I’m down 20lbs. I still look terrible and heavy, but I’m down two pant sizes. I need to be down two more before I’ll really celebrate, but it’s a start. I was gaining 2-3 pounds per week with the medicines I was on for chronic pain, rheumatoid arthritis, anxiety and birth control.

I am off meds for chronic pain, and yes…I’m in pain. No Alleve doesn’t fix it, but moving often helps. I hate when people tell me that, but for me it has helped. My neck has been pretty bad lately and that’s been tough, but other than that I’ve really been okay. As I mentioned in a previous blog the anxiety has been rough.

My new combo of meds is allowing me to lose some weight, though. So for that I’m thrilled. I have a lot of work to do, but I’ll just keep walking/moving/jogging and cutting down on late night eating, which is darn hard when you’re an insomniac. I get hungry at 2AM!

So I’m going to try and sleep before I get up and eat something.

 

 

The Non-Blog Post

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I confess. I didn’t want to write a blog tonight. I’m having a moment. A big moment. An ugly moment with tears and sadness and raw emotion, and I just didn’t want to put it into words, but I am editing a novel (did I mention the novel with an excess of the word “she”?) and frankly I needed a break and this was the only viable option.

So here I am. I tried watching the news, but that’s depressing as all hell. A bunch of performers from the circus fell off some metal suspended frame thing and they are all hurt. A college student died of meningitis days before graduation. I need to turn that crap off.

I didn’t have a bad day. I slept in for a bit after the wedding. With my kids staying over night with my sister-in-law, I had a quiet house…except for hungry cats. I also took my girls to a cupcake baking event for the nonprofit organization that I work for. It was a decent day, despite not being able to follow navigation directions from Siri. I swear that bitch led me in a circle twice. I am not so good with directions. The girls fell asleep and I was humoring myself with the line from European Vacation when Clark gets stuck on the rotary in England and he keeps saying “Look kids, Big Ben! Parliament!” Even if my kids were awake, they wouldn’t have gotten the humor.

I really don’t even feel like discussing why I’m so upset. Without going into too much detail so I don’t start crying again, I’m just feeling pretty terrible about myself. I look horrible. This freakin autoimmune disease has really taken its toll on me, and I’m having a hard time with the way I look. I’m not eating enough to be this fat. I am not saying I don’t eat sweets. I had a cupcake today.

But, overall I eat healthy. In the last few weeks I’ve really been sticking to about 1,200 calories a day and exercising and I’m still not losing weight. Something is wrong. It’s probably the meds, but I need to call tomorrow to schedule the CT scan like the doctor wanted me to do.

Did you ever see something and know that you’ll be seeing it again soon, or it be important soon? It’s hard to explain. Things usually hit me in some sort of vision and then months later I realize why I had that feeling. I’ve decided that on top of being horrified at the way I look, I’m actually really worried that something is wrong. My mom died at 43 and I’m 42 and it’s just hitting me that something is really wrong. I’m not doing enough to figure out what it is.

I will start tomorrow with calling about the CT scan and that will be step one. Step two is cutting out sugar. I may have a very crabby week. Expect crabby posts. Crabby is better than crying, though.