What to get your baby!
It's my daughter's first Christmas this year and so far I've gotten at least 5 toys.. two of which she ended up getting way before Christmas.
I can't seem to say "No"
I also got her clothes... that she wore already..
Oops. =)
I bought 2 fuzzibunz, 2 packages of Rockin' Green detergent, a scoop, some ammonia-killing RnG, a wetbag from the Black Friday sales.
But I can guarantee she'll use it all before Christmas.
I got her a car seat,too.. But she's 22lbs now, and that's the weight limit for the infant seat...
So that seat will be used before Christmas,too!
Anyone else finding it hard to keep the Christmas gifts from their baby or child? I can't seem to say no!
What did you get or what are you getting your baby for their first Christmas?
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Living and Parenting With Mental Disorders
At the young age of 18 months, my mom new something was wrong.
My tantrums were unusually long and angry, and I was prone to meltdowns.
By age 12, I had reached a severe level. My parents had been threatened by my elementary school when I was 8 that if they didn't remove me from the school system, I would be expelled.
When I was 12, I had a severe panic attack that presented itself as refusing to leave the 'safe' location of under a table in the school library. The police were called and I was finally diagnosed.
My old school had refused to test me for anything.
I was diagnosed with "Dysthymic Disorder", which is a fancy way of saying mild depression.
The medication they placed me on had me go from a healthy weight of 85lbs to a severely thin 67lbs. I knew it was not the right medication. Yes, my grades were very good, but I was unable to eat much and felt very sick.
I stopped the medication.
For a while, I was okay.
Sort of.
Around 14, I went to see a therapist. She made everything make a lot of sense.
First of all, I could not touch clay or dirt..peeling potatoes made me have to wash my hands over and over with hot water and tons of soap. The sound of the vacuum cleaner made me flee the room because it was too loud.
She diagnosed it as Sensory Processing Disorder. I have both tactile and auditory sensitivities.
Since they do not interfere with my everyday life (I still peel potatoes..but I also still wash my hands a lot after) she said I did not require occupational therapy.
Second, I could NOT make a speech/oral report in class. I couldn't even answer a question. I would literally freeze up and be unable to speak. I always thought my look was pleading.. begging the teacher to stop asking me because I couldn't do it. The told my mom I was "glaring at them" or giving them the "deer in the headlights" look.
I had trouble making friends, and could not start a conversation with anyone I did not know.
I was diagnosed with Social Anxiety, Anxiety, and Panic Disorder.
In tough or "scary" situations, I freeze up or panic. During labor with my daughter, I hyperventilated so badly I required ativan for the epidural. I couldn't calm down.
I also required it the one and only time I asked the nurses to take my daughter for 3 hours so I could sleep. Instead of sleeping, I had been crying hysterically.
Then came the grade problem..
I had good and bad times. I saw my grades, at one point, stay at a 105 (meaning I did everything perfectly and did the extra credit work) then shoot down to 60s in a matter of weeks.
I had times where I couldn't find the energy to shower often enough, or brush my hair daily (gross, I know)
I did not have Dysthymic Disorder. I had full blown Depression.
Later on, I also added OCD to my diagnoses list.
I was a compulsive collector. I had groups of rocks, and at one point collected over 5000 safety pins..and counted them often. I counted the steps as I went up them, made sure I had them right. I folded and refolded clothing, panicked when our living room was reorganized, and had terrible, terrible thoughts of harming someone, or something horrible happening to them. I thought I was crazy.
But no, it was Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
So here I was, 14 years old with a list longer than most on what was "wrong" with my brain.
I decided then that I would not have a child because of the fear that I'd pass on my chemical imbalances and wrong wiring to whatever child I brought into the world.
Fate had other plans for me, obviously.
When I found out I was pregnant, I was on Prozac, which is a wonderful medication for OCD, Anxiety, and Depression. I hadn't quite reached the proper dosage to help my OCD (it takes a slightly high dosage to help), but my Depression and Anxiety were under control and I was feeling great!
Imagine my horror when I was informed that I had to stop my medication.
But I did it, and I did wonderfully throughout my pregnancy medication-free.
I fully hoped to be able to live life without medication, and assumed it would work out great.
When my daughter came, the baby blues hit hard. I would spend hours crying along with her, crying for no reason, etc. I didn't want to do anything but watch my baby sleep.
My obsessive thoughts, which had been there only slightly during my pregnancy, were there fully.
I had thoughts of her not breathing while she slept, so I would watch her as she slept and would panic when she was not beside me. Another reason we bed share.
I had worse thoughts, however.. thoughts I'd never act upon no matter what..
Thoughts of harming her.. dropping, suffocating..
I never told a soul about them for months.
This was not Postpartum Depression. This was the face of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
That was the main problem for a while. I could cope. I was okay. I just had to remind myself that I'd never hurt her, and those thoughts don't make it true.
It did hurt to have thoughts like that about the one thing I loved more than anything in the world, but I tried to ignore them.
As she got older, I began to dip every so often. Having a couple weeks where all I wanted to do was sleep. I was so tired, even though I slept enough. All I wanted to do was eat. Everything in sight.
I gained weight steadily.
But I fought on.
I wasn't letting my problems get a hold of me. I was going to be a good mom.
After a while, those problems would fade and I'd have enough energy to play more, go places, and do well in generally.
Quite recently, I've noticed a deeper dip. My grades are dropping steadily, I'm much more tired, irritable, and losing interest in most things.
Thankfully, I have not become irritable with my daughter, nor have I "lost interest" in her.
We still play, I still have our daily snuggles, tickles, kisses and loves.
But I know that my problems are not gone, and in order to be a "better mommy" I need to seek out the medication that balances the chemicals.
Therefore, I'm seeking them out in order to better my ability to be that good mommy she deserves.
Mental disorders are not being "Crazy" but are chemical imbalances in the brain that prevent normal functioning. Sometimes one can learn to cope without medication, but with some people, coping is not possible. The chemicals in the brain are going haywire and cannot fix themselves.
It does not make us less of a good parent, nor does it make us unable to care for our children.
With the proper medication, help, and attitude, the problems can be fixed as long as the treatment is ongoing, and the parent can be as good as any other.
I know my daughter will be proud, one day, that I do my best to BE the best.
I hope she never knows the face of Mental Disorders, but if she does, I'm ready to help her fight the battle and make everything OK again.
I'll be ready and there for her every step of the way.
My tantrums were unusually long and angry, and I was prone to meltdowns.
By age 12, I had reached a severe level. My parents had been threatened by my elementary school when I was 8 that if they didn't remove me from the school system, I would be expelled.
When I was 12, I had a severe panic attack that presented itself as refusing to leave the 'safe' location of under a table in the school library. The police were called and I was finally diagnosed.
My old school had refused to test me for anything.
I was diagnosed with "Dysthymic Disorder", which is a fancy way of saying mild depression.
The medication they placed me on had me go from a healthy weight of 85lbs to a severely thin 67lbs. I knew it was not the right medication. Yes, my grades were very good, but I was unable to eat much and felt very sick.
I stopped the medication.
For a while, I was okay.
Sort of.
Around 14, I went to see a therapist. She made everything make a lot of sense.
First of all, I could not touch clay or dirt..peeling potatoes made me have to wash my hands over and over with hot water and tons of soap. The sound of the vacuum cleaner made me flee the room because it was too loud.
She diagnosed it as Sensory Processing Disorder. I have both tactile and auditory sensitivities.
Since they do not interfere with my everyday life (I still peel potatoes..but I also still wash my hands a lot after) she said I did not require occupational therapy.
Second, I could NOT make a speech/oral report in class. I couldn't even answer a question. I would literally freeze up and be unable to speak. I always thought my look was pleading.. begging the teacher to stop asking me because I couldn't do it. The told my mom I was "glaring at them" or giving them the "deer in the headlights" look.
I had trouble making friends, and could not start a conversation with anyone I did not know.
I was diagnosed with Social Anxiety, Anxiety, and Panic Disorder.
In tough or "scary" situations, I freeze up or panic. During labor with my daughter, I hyperventilated so badly I required ativan for the epidural. I couldn't calm down.
I also required it the one and only time I asked the nurses to take my daughter for 3 hours so I could sleep. Instead of sleeping, I had been crying hysterically.
Then came the grade problem..
I had good and bad times. I saw my grades, at one point, stay at a 105 (meaning I did everything perfectly and did the extra credit work) then shoot down to 60s in a matter of weeks.
I had times where I couldn't find the energy to shower often enough, or brush my hair daily (gross, I know)
I did not have Dysthymic Disorder. I had full blown Depression.
Later on, I also added OCD to my diagnoses list.
I was a compulsive collector. I had groups of rocks, and at one point collected over 5000 safety pins..and counted them often. I counted the steps as I went up them, made sure I had them right. I folded and refolded clothing, panicked when our living room was reorganized, and had terrible, terrible thoughts of harming someone, or something horrible happening to them. I thought I was crazy.
But no, it was Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
So here I was, 14 years old with a list longer than most on what was "wrong" with my brain.
I decided then that I would not have a child because of the fear that I'd pass on my chemical imbalances and wrong wiring to whatever child I brought into the world.
Fate had other plans for me, obviously.
When I found out I was pregnant, I was on Prozac, which is a wonderful medication for OCD, Anxiety, and Depression. I hadn't quite reached the proper dosage to help my OCD (it takes a slightly high dosage to help), but my Depression and Anxiety were under control and I was feeling great!
Imagine my horror when I was informed that I had to stop my medication.
But I did it, and I did wonderfully throughout my pregnancy medication-free.
I fully hoped to be able to live life without medication, and assumed it would work out great.
When my daughter came, the baby blues hit hard. I would spend hours crying along with her, crying for no reason, etc. I didn't want to do anything but watch my baby sleep.
My obsessive thoughts, which had been there only slightly during my pregnancy, were there fully.
I had thoughts of her not breathing while she slept, so I would watch her as she slept and would panic when she was not beside me. Another reason we bed share.
I had worse thoughts, however.. thoughts I'd never act upon no matter what..
Thoughts of harming her.. dropping, suffocating..
I never told a soul about them for months.
This was not Postpartum Depression. This was the face of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
That was the main problem for a while. I could cope. I was okay. I just had to remind myself that I'd never hurt her, and those thoughts don't make it true.
It did hurt to have thoughts like that about the one thing I loved more than anything in the world, but I tried to ignore them.
As she got older, I began to dip every so often. Having a couple weeks where all I wanted to do was sleep. I was so tired, even though I slept enough. All I wanted to do was eat. Everything in sight.
I gained weight steadily.
But I fought on.
I wasn't letting my problems get a hold of me. I was going to be a good mom.
After a while, those problems would fade and I'd have enough energy to play more, go places, and do well in generally.
Quite recently, I've noticed a deeper dip. My grades are dropping steadily, I'm much more tired, irritable, and losing interest in most things.
Thankfully, I have not become irritable with my daughter, nor have I "lost interest" in her.
We still play, I still have our daily snuggles, tickles, kisses and loves.
But I know that my problems are not gone, and in order to be a "better mommy" I need to seek out the medication that balances the chemicals.
Therefore, I'm seeking them out in order to better my ability to be that good mommy she deserves.
Mental disorders are not being "Crazy" but are chemical imbalances in the brain that prevent normal functioning. Sometimes one can learn to cope without medication, but with some people, coping is not possible. The chemicals in the brain are going haywire and cannot fix themselves.
It does not make us less of a good parent, nor does it make us unable to care for our children.
With the proper medication, help, and attitude, the problems can be fixed as long as the treatment is ongoing, and the parent can be as good as any other.
I know my daughter will be proud, one day, that I do my best to BE the best.
I hope she never knows the face of Mental Disorders, but if she does, I'm ready to help her fight the battle and make everything OK again.
I'll be ready and there for her every step of the way.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Your Baby is So Happy!
I hear "Aww you have such a happy baby" whenever I go out.
I always wonder WHY strangers feel the need to tell me my baby is happy.
Of course she is! She's fed, her diaper is clean, and she naps..
Then I wonder..
Are they in awe that my baby doesn't scream whenever I'm out?
Why do other babies scream and shriek? Have I really been given a "Good" baby?
Now don't get me wrong, she does fuss sometimes when we are out of the house, but generally she's the worst at home. Either her aunties aren't giving her enough attention, or she's bored, or she wants to eat the dog food and I said no.
No is a terrible word in her world.
When we are out, she's the picture of "perfect".
She smiles at everyone, flirts with the stranger sitting 2 tables away who keeps waving at her..she even blew a kiss to an elderly woman today when we were out to breakfast! I don't think I've ever seen her blow kisses, but this lovely lady was blowing her kisses, so she gave one back.
She does harass nearby people with happy screams, and what I like to call "Baby Profanity" (That "Ahhhhhnananobada..DA! DAAAAAHH!!!" screech she does in an angry tone) but she doesn't cry. Doesn't wail like a wounded puppy at the drop of a pin.. If she's tired, she falls asleep in her stroller. She tosses toys out of her stroller for instant entertainment. Mommy will, for sure, pick it up and hand it back.
But I wonder..
Why do other babies cry? Are they generally good, but the second the stranger hears them cry, they are labeled "Fussy Baby"?
Do they not like going out?
I'm sure I'll figure it out with the next baby. In ten years.
I have no plans on having another until I'm financially stable.
Husband or not, In 10 years I want another. Marriage isn't too important to me, to be honest (does that make me a bad mama?)
Now don't get me wrong, I won't sleep around or find a "Donor" by myself to have my child.
If I decide to have another without a husband, I'll find a REAL Donor, through an agency.
After all, If I can balance being a single, teen, student mama so well, I have confidence that I can do it as a late-20's single working mama. :)
I always wonder WHY strangers feel the need to tell me my baby is happy.
Of course she is! She's fed, her diaper is clean, and she naps..
Then I wonder..
Are they in awe that my baby doesn't scream whenever I'm out?
Why do other babies scream and shriek? Have I really been given a "Good" baby?
Now don't get me wrong, she does fuss sometimes when we are out of the house, but generally she's the worst at home. Either her aunties aren't giving her enough attention, or she's bored, or she wants to eat the dog food and I said no.
No is a terrible word in her world.
When we are out, she's the picture of "perfect".
She smiles at everyone, flirts with the stranger sitting 2 tables away who keeps waving at her..she even blew a kiss to an elderly woman today when we were out to breakfast! I don't think I've ever seen her blow kisses, but this lovely lady was blowing her kisses, so she gave one back.
She does harass nearby people with happy screams, and what I like to call "Baby Profanity" (That "Ahhhhhnananobada..DA! DAAAAAHH!!!" screech she does in an angry tone) but she doesn't cry. Doesn't wail like a wounded puppy at the drop of a pin.. If she's tired, she falls asleep in her stroller. She tosses toys out of her stroller for instant entertainment. Mommy will, for sure, pick it up and hand it back.
But I wonder..
Why do other babies cry? Are they generally good, but the second the stranger hears them cry, they are labeled "Fussy Baby"?
Do they not like going out?
I'm sure I'll figure it out with the next baby. In ten years.
I have no plans on having another until I'm financially stable.
Husband or not, In 10 years I want another. Marriage isn't too important to me, to be honest (does that make me a bad mama?)
Now don't get me wrong, I won't sleep around or find a "Donor" by myself to have my child.
If I decide to have another without a husband, I'll find a REAL Donor, through an agency.
After all, If I can balance being a single, teen, student mama so well, I have confidence that I can do it as a late-20's single working mama. :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)