mamapef said: If I may ask a personal question. Do you feel as if you are going through PPD? I'm not sure how old baby is but it is possible that a new baby is adding extra stress. I can relate because my husband and I argue a lot more now that the kids are here and it's not their fault what happens between us, but I get it. Feel free not to answer. :)
Thank you for your sweet note. My son is 15-months old. I did have intense PPD and postpartum anxiety disorder that set in when he was around 4-months old and stopped sleeping soundly and reliably. I saw a shrink and it really helped. But it wasn’t covered by my insurance and was incredibly expensive. Every day I wish fervently I could go back to seeing her, but money is a problem now, as is time. I do think my husband and I are both depressed. Fifteen months without a full night’s sleep will do that I’m told. As everyone keeps telling me “they use sleep deprivation as torture for a reason.” Don’t I know it.
I’ve had the awful impulse to run away lately. Things are not going well. My job is a mess, my health is deteriorating, I’m gaining weight, my husband’s career is flagging, we fight all the time, and E is becoming even more erratic in his sleep and naps. Things are not good. I just can’t help feeling that if I run away, if he stops needing to nurse, if he can stop obsessing over me, that he’d be an easier baby to deal with. Essentially I know that’s not true, but I just don’t know what to do anymore. He’s the only happy person in our family. My husband and I are deeply, deeply unhappy. What’s to be done?
Why men never remember anything
The headline made me click (because seriously my husband can’t remember shit), but the content made me stick around. This is an essential read for anyone parenting a young boy. His future wife (or husband) will thank you!
As E was flinging his breakfast around the kitchen this morning, a la Jackson Pollock, I definitely caught myself thinking “god toddlers are assholes.”
"And on the third night you shall be visited by the Pumping Angel who will bestow upon you gifts of lactation cookies and Lansinoh."
Picture contributed by Tara Copland Eastwick of LST
Omfgggggggg you guys. This blog is goooooold, GOOOOOOOOLD!
Who smokes pot next to a playground?
Goddamit. Why are toddlers *so* obsessed with tampons? Like having your period needed to be more difficult?
Why I’m Okay With Forgetting
I think it’s my right as a New Yorker to, after 13 years, be okay with forgetting. The thing is, New Yorkers (and in the term New Yorker, I’m including anyone who shares a mindset of tolerance, courtesy (yes, New Yorkers are courteous), and mind-your-own-business practicality) aren’t just under threat from overseas religious zealots who hate our lifestyle, we’re also under threat from the sort of domestic religious zealots who traffic in jingoistic platitudes like “Never Forget!”
After 13 years—13 years of being afraid of booms in the night, backfiring cars, slammed doors, cellphones that ring in the subway—I’m working hard to forget. I met a young man recently, a Marine, who couldn’t understand why I wanted to raise E in a diverse neighborhood, “Isn’t being surrounded by white people good?” This boy was 11 when 9/11 happened, and he has fought three times in the war it started. And he still doesn’t understand why it happened, what he’s fighting for, and why war isn’t the solution. That makes me sad.
And here’s the thing: I’m not really trying to forget, I’m just choosing to remember things that would probably surprise people that weren’t here. I’m choosing to remember how nice everyone was to each other in the weeks afterwards. I’m choosing to remember what a gorgeous, beautiful day it was. I’m choosing to remember how lovely the city was when it was returned solely to New Yorkers for those brief days in the aftermath when no one was allowed below 14th Street. I’m trying desperately, still, to forget the smell. I’m trying to remember all the hugs I exchanged with my friends. And I’m trying to remember the people we lost. And I’m leaving it there. So please stop telling me to Never Forget. Mind your own damn business.
Dear dad of the kid in the swing next to my kid,
If you’re standing so close to me I can’t even put my hand into my pocket to get my phone out, you’re standing WAY too close to me. Just FYI.
Thanks for the suggestion pizzatoporkpie! I wish there had been a library on the list the State Department has on their website, but alas it was just the official Passport Agency downtown, and post offices. But, the upside is we got to go visit my husband at work and introduce some of his coworkers to E, and then we went to the oddly deserted post office as Grand Central and the deed is finally done! Watch out France, here we come (in approximately seven months)!