A Bad Day For A Fall

Yesterday was a bad day for a couple of people in our family. Both Logan and Carlos' grandmother, Marcolina, had bad falls. Logan was left with a bump on the noggin, and a bruised ego. Marcolina wasn't so lucky.

First I will tell you about Logan's fall. He has recently began climbing up on the couch by himself. No fear...no understanding of falling off furniture or the consequences of doing so. Isn't that a happy day for every parent?

He is also not yet understanding the words "no", "stop" or "be careful". In fact, the grin on his face each time I utter these words indicates that he may believe they are just playful words such as "yay!" or "woohoo" or "wow".

Back to the story. As is usual now, he scrambled onto the couch, wiggling and kicking and flailing, finally hoisting himself onto the couch. Then he proceeded to try to scale the side of the bookcase beside the couch. I knew I couldn't get to him in time, so I called his name. He turned around, wicked grin drawn across his face, and just looked at me. His mistake was standing at the edge of the couch when he turned around instead of sitting down like he usually does.

It was as if the whole thing happened in slow motion. There was no way I could have stopped it. He just toppled over, falling from his standing position on the couch and landing flat on his back on the floor. The sound of his head hitting the wood floor made me unable to move. It was shockingly loud. Then came the screams. Ear piercing screams.

It took a good few minutes to calm him down. This was his first big fall, and I think he was pretty shaken. You know it's bad when the TV doesn't calm him immediately...and it didn't...right away. But a few minutes later all was forgotten. Too much was forgotten, it appears. He was right back to his couch-climbing ways in no time, and it was obvious that no lesson was learned. But the important thing is that he wasn't injured.

I wish I could say the same for Carlos' grandmother. Marcolina lives with Carlos' parents. She had a bad fall while they were at work, and couldn't get up. Luckily we had just bough an X10 personal security gadget for her, and Carlos had installed it on Sunday.

The X10 Personal Assistance Voice Dialer

She pressed the button on the heart pendant around her neck, and the system called Carlos' cell phone. He then called his mother, who left work immediately and headed home. When she got there she found Marcolina on the floor, her arm so swollen that she couldn't get up even with my mother-in-law's help. She ended up calling 911, and an ambulance came and took them to the hospital.

I shudder to think of Marcolina lying on that cold basement floor, waiting 4 hours for someone to come home and help her (Carlos got the call from the system at 1:20pm...my mother-in-law isn't home from work until 5:30pm or later). I am so thankful that we installed and tested the system on Sunday, and that Marcolina had the presence of mind to use it. It was 25 minutes from the time Carlos got the call to when my mother-in-law got home.

Poor Marcolina, 86 years old, fractured her arm. She's got a cast and everything. As if it wasn't hard enough for her to use her walker in the close quarters of her mother-in-law suite, now she has a cast to contend with. Luckily my mother-in-law had already planned a trip for her and her mother to visit family in Boston. They leave next week. Marcolina has been cleared to fly by her doctor. She will be pampered by her other daughter (Carlos' aunt), and her grandchildren. I'm sure her brightened spirit will help her heal faster.

I asked Zander if he wanted to make his great grandmother a "Get Well Soon" card. He screamed "Yup!", and ran to the table, anxiously awaiting his box of craft supplies. He then spent the next hour carefully crafting the perfect card. I've never seen him focus like that...it was like he was on mission. Every sticker placed with precision, every stroke of the crayon specific and deliberate. He was so pleased with his creation that he was hesitant to give it to his great grandmother...so much so that he wouldn't let it leave his iron grip for 30 minutes.

He wouldn't even look up for the camera!

Wouldn't you love to be given a masterpiece like this? A Zander original!

Hopefully we won't be getting any recorded messages from the X10 system again anytime soon. And hopefully Logan will start to understand the pain of launching himself off the couch...ya...that's never going to happen!

Now That's An Accident Waiting To Happen!

Zander was playing with the chairs in the dining room just after lunch today.

He pulled out the chair with Logan's booster seat on it, then walked over to the ottoman where Logan was standing.

Zander: Carr' Rogan!

Me: You want me to carry Logan?

Zander: N0! Carr' Rogan. Sit i' chair! (he points towards the chair that he has perfectly readied for Logan's arrival, puts his arms around Logan from behind and proceeds to try to lift him)

Me: You want to carry Logan and put him in his chair?

Zander: (squeals) Ya! Ya!

Me: Oh Zander, I don't think you can lift him. Maybe you can help mommy put Logan in his chair for snack time...okay?

Zander: (sounding a little defeated, but still hopeful) Okay.

Now, Zander is a tall boy....but I don't think his current 22 pounds stand a chance against Logan's squat 30 pounds!

The Cloud Has Started To Lift

I've been stressed out about a lot of things for the past few months.

I've been trying to find the right medication to able to feel like "me" again. I've been dealing with Zander's eating disorder (that's a whole other post). I've been working like mad to get this house ready for sale. I've been trying to keep my house spotless for the benefit of potential buyers...not an easy task with 1 and 2 year old boys destroying it as quickly as I was cleaning it!

And then there was the stress of actually selling the house. Would we be able to sell it quickly? Would we be trying for months? Would we be able to get close-to-asking-price?

All of this stress has manifested itself as an enormous, dark cloud hanging over my head, threatening to wreak hail and havoc at any given moment.

But the cloud has started to lift.

The word SOLD has never sounded so sweet!

NOTE: Before anyone thinks Canada in August requires long pants and sweaters, I will just say it was unseasonably cold the day this picture was taken (August 18th).

Cate Unplugged

So....I've been MIA for a few weeks. I've been overwhelmed by so many things.

I was so very overwhelmed by your outpouring of support and caring comments and emails. I don't think I can every properly thank any of you for that. It has meant so much.

I've been overwhelmed by the sheer number of posts still left unread in my Google Reader. I'm sure they are all beautifully written and pee-my-pants funny as usual....yet I've had no time to read them. I have no idea what is going on with all of my bloggy friends and daily reads, and that makes me feel crappy. And kind of lonely.

I have been overwhelmed by all the work on the house that needed to be done in such a short period of time to be able to sell it. It's officially been on the market for two weeks now, and we still have stuff to do. It's like the never-ending makeover!

I've been overwhelmed by the return of too many aspects of my PPD, and am dealing as best I can with my change in medication. But I'm so very tired all the time. It's like I'm being forced to be lazy, if that makes any sense...I don't like it.

I've been overwhelmingly overwhelmed by my 2 year old's refusal to eat. There have been a few ups and way too many downs. This is the worst rollercoaster ride EVAH! (Hi Sara, Jennifer and Heather...picked this word up from you...hope you don't mind me using it!)

I'm overwhelmed with guilt for the fact that my wonderful brother and his wife had a beautiful baby boy on July 14th...my first nephew, and this fucking house-selling shit hasn't allowed us time to make the 3 hour trip to see them. I didn't even post an announcement or pics or anything on my blog! What kind of a sister/sister-in-law/aunt am I???

All of this made me feel the need to unplug. Completely. I haven't posted anything. I haven't read anyone elses posts. I've checked my email every few days just to see if there are any emails from our Real Estate Agent....but I've only read about 8 emails in the past few weeks, and I rarely reply. I haven't been trying to be rude....I just need to completely cut off from everything and everyone.

But I feel like I'm coming out of the cloud now. It might take a while before I'm back to almost-daily posts, but for what it's worth I'm glad to be back.

I apologize to all of my fave bloggers who may have feel like I abandoned them. I promise I will be reading again soon...I may not comment on every post, but I'll definitely be leaving a few words here and there!

Diagnosis: Depression

I was diagnosed with Post-Partum depression in February 2007. It has taken me until now to be able to talk about it. I've been writing (more like crafting) this post since April...carefully choosing my words....trying to properly describe what I've been dealing with. It's been difficult. I would write a couple of paragraphs, and then not touch it for a week. Then I would read what I had wrote, and scrap most of it...this has been going on for almost 4 months. I think this is as good as it's gonna get, folks....

Carlos and I were aware of the symptoms...we knew the signs to look for. We had discussed PPD and "baby blues" in our prenatal classes when we were expecting Zander. We were reminded of what to watch for by our doctor after each of our boys were born. But I was ambushed...it snuck up on me...on us...

I went through my days thinking that everything was okay. Until one day in January. Zander looked at me suddenly with an odd look on his face...and then started to laugh. What was he laughing at? I was sobbing...sobbing without realizing I was sobbing...how did I not know I was sobbing? And Zander, being 18 months old and not understanding what mommy was really doing, thought the whole thing was funny.

It was as if I was being rudely awakened by a splash of ice water. What was going on? What had been going on...for too long. I had a sudden clarity akin to an out-of-body experience. I was floating over my life...looking down on myself for the past few months. I didn't like what I was seeing.

I had been so deeply disappointed by the inability to breastfeed either of my sons. More so than I realized until now. Looking back, I cried. I cried daily. It would take the littlest thing to set me off...sometimes nothing. Feeding Logan a bottle. Zander resting his hand on my breast while I was carrying him upstairs for a nap. Seeing anything to do with babies, mothers, breastfeeding, anything on TV.

Sometimes I would be fine after shedding just a few tears. Sometimes it was almost impossible to stop.

I had so much guilt. Too much guilt. Guilt over everything to do with my sons. If one or both of them got sick, it wouldn't have happened if I had been able to breastfeed...why didn't I try harder? Why did I give up after only six months of torture and agony? A good mom would have kept trying. If Logan had a bad episode with his GERD, it wouldn't have happened if he hadn't been premature. I must have done something to make my water break early. I shouldn't have lifted that box. I should have taken it easier. How could I do this to my child? How could I have put this awful disease on him? How could I have caused my son so much pain and agony...what kind of mother does that? If Zander fell while he was running around playing, I should have been there to catch him. I should have stopped him from getting hurt. I should have picked up all of the toys over and over again all day so that there was no chance he would trip on one of them. Sounds ridiculous now, but back then these thoughts seemed completely rational.

I would cry at the drop of a hat. When I saw a silly commercial. Whenever one or both of the boys would do something funny, silly, cute...I would just lose it. While I watched movies, whether they were sad, funny, scary...didn't matter. Whenever I saw a live musical performance of any kind on TV I would cry...it was so odd.

Libido? What is that? I won't get into any detail...'cause there aren't any to tell. Suffice it to say, my husband is an amazingly patient man.

My fatigue was almost debilitating at times. I could have sleep all day if I had been given the opportunity. I caught myself falling asleep while watching the boys during the day....I slept while they slept...as soon as Carlos got home I would take a nap. It just went on and on.

I started to have anxiety attacks when Logan was only a few months old. Every time Logan had an episode. Every time Zander would gag on the tiniest bit of texture in his food and throw up. Every time we had to leave the house. Every. time. I would transform into Mrs. Hyde. I had no control of what I was doing. It was like I was sitting in the corner of the room watching this crazy lady yelling, screaming, crying, slamming doors, throwing things, hyperventilating. And the worst part of all of this was that my boys were witness to this temporary insanity. That still upsets me.

I was so sensitive about everything that an innocent comment would be perceived as harsh criticism, or even a personal attack.

And even though all of this seemed like completely normal and rational behavior to me at the time, I was hiding it from my husband. It was as if a subconscious part of me new something was wrong but thought I could deal with it on my own. I was fully aware of how hurt and sad I could get when I thought of missing out on the joys of breastfeeding, of how easily I shed my tears...but I'll get over it...it will get better day by day...there's no need to worry Carlos about this. He has enough on his plate already.

It was Zander's laughter at my sobs that woke me up. It was a slap on the face. My little boy thought it was funny that I was sobbing. My little boy had seen me sobbing often enough that it didn't scare him...it was a normal occurrence.

That night I told Carlos all about what I was going through...what I had been going through for months. He was blindsided. I had been hiding it so well that he had no idea what was going on. He's never said as much, but I believe he feels he should have seen the signs...recognized I was in trouble. I don't think he understands how subconsciously determined I was to keep all of this from him...if he found out he will think I am a weak person and a bad mother....I could deal with this on my own.

The next day I called the doctor's office to make an appointment. Carlos took time off work to come with me while my mom watched the boys.

I sat in front of my doctor, as Carlos held my hand, and started to tell her what had been happening...and then the tears came. I couldn't hold them back...they flowed freely and fiercely as I described my worst moments from the last few months.

My doctor, who is so caring and friendly, smiled softly and said something that surprised me. "I've been expecting this. Women with babies who have health problems have a much higher risk of PPD...and you have two very high-needs children".

After much tearful discussion, my doctor prescribed me some medication. Within a few days I felt more like myself than I had in months. That first weekend was the first time I didn't have an anxiety attack while getting myself and the boys ready to have dinner with my in-laws. It was incredible. Carlos actually noticed the change before I did. I have felt so good ever since.

Unfortunately, with everything that's been going on with the sale of our current house and negotiations for the new house, with Zander's eating disorder, with Logan's teething, with my isolation from everyone (due to my allergies to....well....being outside in pretty much any weather, I can't go anywhere with the boys by myself, so I'm stuck here at home alone during the day. Logan's GERD turned us into a family of hermits who were scared to go anywhere, my family is 2.5 hours away and Carlos' family lives on the opposite side of the city.), I have felt myself starting to slip again. The anxiety is creeping back. The over-sensitivity is creeping back. That fatigue is here. This time, though, I realize I can't do this on my own. I have an appointment to talk to my doctor about a medication change.

I have to say, as hard as all of this has been, I can't imagine how much more difficult it could have been...would have been...had I not had my blog to vent all of my thoughts....had I not had so many wonderful people...so many strong fellow-moms...lending their support, as well as sharing their own experiences, no matter how personal. I shudder to think how much more difficult this could have been...and I thank all of the amazing Blogland friends I have made. I can never tell you know much you have helped me during these past few months...

***I just noticed that I am finally publishing this...on Friday the 13th...which coincidentally has always been my lucky day....hopefully that's a good omen...

And Now For Some Comic Relief

After all of the doom and gloom posts of late, what with all the shit that's been going on here, I thought it was time for some much needed comic relief...and my son Zander was more than happy to oblige.

Allow me to set the scene. It was bath time last night. Carlos had already run the bath, and everything was ready. As usual, we brought both of the boys upstairs into Zander's room to strip them down for their bath. Zander was stripped down first. Then it was Logan's turn. That's when our noses were hit with something so foul...and that foulness was Logan's diaper.

Carlos: Aw, man! Logan! How can someone so cute smell so bad?

Logan: A ba da....pfpfpfpfpfpfp (I'm not sure how to translate this, but as far as I can tell it means something like "Ha! That's what you get for feeding me turkey stew for dinner, old man!")

Carlos: [cough] [weeze] [cough] Maybe we should put a diaper on Zander until Logan is read for the bath...??? [cough] This might take a while to clean up.....[choke]

Me: He should be okay....Zander...do you have to go pee?

Zander: No!

Me: Are you sure?

Zander: No pee pee....

Me: Do you want to go on the potty?

Zander: Pott'! No no pee pee poo....

Me: Okay....but tell mommy if you have to pee on the potty.

Carlos: I can hardly breathe...this is so nasty! Yak!

Me: Do you need help?

Carlos: No...I got it...

Me: Good...'cause I didn't really want to help you anyway! [smirk]

Carlos: Ummm.....honey? What's that sound?

Me: (I turn around to find the source of said sound) Why that's your son pissing into the heating vent, dear!

Zander: Pee! Pee! A (meaning "I") pee pee!

Me: Yes, Zander...you peed...all over the floor and in the vent...

Zander: A wet!

Me: Yes, Zander...you're wet...and so is the floor....and the heating ducts....

Carlos: Here's a receiving blanket...use this....(he throws it over to me)

I start wiping it up....

Zander: (he takes a step back to watch me clean up his mess....and starts to pee again) Pee pee!

Me: (laughing hysterically) Yes, Zander....you're peeing....

Zander: (nodding in agreement) A PEE!

We all had a good laugh. We needed that...

I am so thankful that there are wood floors in his room, and that a warm bath was waiting for them just a few feet down the hallway!

At Least My Thumb Is Still Firmly Attached

It seems that a few of my bloggy friends are concerned about the state of my thumb. I am glad to report that it is still firmly attached to my hand, and has returned to it's natural shade of pink. Thank you so much for your concern and well wishes...

I wish I had more good news...unfortunately this is where the story goes downhill...you know...the direction shit runs...like the shit that has been the past few days....the shit that has kept me from posting an update on my thumb so people wouldn't worry needlessly...

Today was not a good one. Zander's mealtime struggles have gotten worse. I guess I jinxed myself by talking about his one good meal. So maybe writing of how bad it has gotten will jinx me in reverse....????

With each meal, Zander's intake has decreased. Today he had 2 ounces of toddler supplemental formula for dinner...that's all...no solids whatsoever. Meanwhile his 13-months-his-junior little brother happily savoured jarred turkey stew, complete with peas and little bits of potato and carrots, jarred bananas and graham crackers dessert and a few mandarin slices cut into little bits.

My heart swells with pride as I praise one son for trying new foods...new textures...for thriving in a way we never expected when he was born so prematurely....and that same heart breaks for my other son as he struggles with each meal...unable to find joy in eating...screaming as if we are punishing him by trying to feed him...wasting away before our eyes...

I'm being pulled in two completely opposite emotional directions. I feel like I'm being torn in half...right down the middle.

But hey...at least my thumb is still firmly attached....