Same old me

The past week, I’ve been deeply absorbed in the task of parenting two children while following the Dr. Conrad Murray trial. I record it during the day and watch on and off while I do housework or nurse. Today I folded laundry and listened to the prosecutor question the defense’s “expert” witness. The witness was deliciously uncooperative on cross, and our prosecutor, Walgren, got terse. It was good television.

Apparently there has been in-fighting on the defense team. Chernoff is the lead attorney, but he often seems downright unprepared. He doesn’t have documents he needs and he appears to break the holy grail of defense law: never ask a question you don’t know the answer to. His own witnesses are making the prosecution’s case.

The guy brought in to deal with medical testimony, Flannagin, is so unlikable, that even though the maximum sentence on the table is four years, I think this jury is going to give Dr. Murray the chair.

The defendant has a look of bewilderment in good moments. In bad moments, he looks like he’s wondering if he is being punked.

Having two children is not twice as hard as having one. It’s more like four times as hard. I’m at a great phase with Pringles where we spend the mornings staring at each other like infatuated teens, but simultaneously I’m at a place with Viva where there is much foot stomping and screaming “NO!”

I’m so grateful Odie is putting the little foot-stomper to bed for me tonight. My back is killing me and I’m enjoying a much needed glass of wine while I write. Today was a big day. I put Pringles down for tummy time and left the room to get something. When I returned, she was on her back, wide-eyed, like “How the hell did that happen?” I put her back on her tummy and watched her roll onto her back. She rolls! Damnit. Now I have to stop putting her on the couch and leaving the room. Well, I knew this day would come.

The days are going by too fast. I want to be with her every moment. She will sleep in her cosleeper now if I put her there, but I want her in the same room with me, where I can look over at her and listen to her sigh in her sleep. She spends the last few hours of her day in the swing beside me while I watch TV or read. It is painful to have her away from me.

Now that I’m on Zoloft, it’s painful in a normal way, not in a demons-are-eating-her-alive-in-front-of-me way.

I’m learning to focus on the positive a little more. In fact, I think that my negativity was chemical. I’ve been so completely happy and bliss-filled that I really want to start writing about the joy and magic I find in everyday experiences.

I’m just fucking with you.

Want to know what is irritating me today? The misuse of the word “definition.” For example, a woman I know wrote about how she did something idiotic and then said, “I am the definition of stupidity.” No, you are the exemplification of stupidity, Stupid.

See? Same old me.

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About Mrs Odie

Friendly Pedant; Humble Genius
This entry was posted in English Grammar and Usage, Essays/Commentary, Parenting and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to Same old me

  1. Sturgmom says:

    Just wanted to say thanks for posting about your struggles with anxiety and depression- I totally identified with it and never realized how abnormal my thinking was. Although this may sound weird and stalkerish and completely unlike anything I should probably say on the internet, your posts encouraged me to seek help for myself and I feel like I’m closer to being on the right track towards mental health. Thanks again!

  2. Jessica says:

    I’m learning to focus on the positive a little more. In fact, I think that my negativity was chemical. I’ve been so completely happy and bliss-filled that I really want to start writing about the joy and magic I find in everyday experiences.

    I’m just fucking with you.

    LMAO. You really had me going there for a second.

  3. kareenirae says:

    I keep meaning to post and tell you how proud I am of you for writing about your depression and for going on Zoloft. When S was 3.5 months old, I got PPD that was brought on by sleep deprivation. Not only was she a horrible sleeper, but I had insomnia and couldn’t fall back to sleep after she woke up to nurse. I would lay awake listening to every squeak and grunt, anticipating her next wake up. I went for about a month with no more than 3 hours of sleep/night. I can honestly say January 2010 was the worst month of my life, and I felt completely incompetent as a mother.

    One day during the worst of it, I had had a particularly bad night and I had made plans with a friend that day. I couldn’t bear to see anyone in my state so I sent her a text canceling our plans. It was the second day in a row I had to cancel with her and instead of giving a bullshit excuse I decided to be honest and tell her what was going on. I said “Sorry I have to flake again. I have PPD, am going on meds.” I had considered her a pretty good friend, so I was totally blown away when she didn’t respond to my text. Not only did she not respond, but she never brought it up or asked how I was doing the next time I saw her. It was baffling and really brought to light how PPD and depression in general has such a stigma attached to it. People are so afraid to talk about it and if you do they don’t know how to respond.

    And don’t get me started on the health insurance companies. We are self employed and have individual health insurance (Kaiser). They only pay for therapy after our $3K deductible is met, which makes going to therapy pretty unappealing. Never mind the fact that stress is a leading cause of cancer and so many other illnesses, so covering at least part of therapy upfront could save them tons of money in the long run.

    Anyway, going on Zoloft was the best thing I did for me and my family and I’m so glad you took the steps you needed to feel better. Love you!

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