Today has been an active day. I really wanted to lay back down on the couch while Sierra ate her breakfast watching Curious George, but I didn't. I was determined to remain awake even with the sluggish feeling. Yesterday morning, I curled up on the futon and remain there until noon. I completely missed breakfast, left the milk out from the girls' breakfast, and Sierra was cluttering the living room with her toys. I hate it when I do that because I need to be attentive, especially with a 4 year old in the house. Jared is gone again for canyoneering classes so I didn't have him for back up. He's gone all this weekend at a canyoneering rendezvous. Camping actually sounds fun right now. I like the serenity of laying in a sleeping bag listening to the breeze and the chirping of insects. There is a certain zen about it. Now not getting much sleep because you're concern about three girls tossing about in their sleeping bags, that is not zen. It was so nice when my husband and I went camping alone. It was peaceful seeing the stars clearly, listening to the loons calling out across the lake, the water rippling onto the shore, the soft glow of the firelight, and the gentle breeze massaging my face. That was so nice. Even with the wind storm in the middle of the night that about blew over our tent, it was so very, very nice. We're definitely going to do that again if I can convince my mom to have the girls sleepover again. I can only ask once a year so I have to make it count. Mom becomes worn out fairly easily with those three. I think it is more that she stresses herself that wears herself out. My girls are active and their personalities will clash, some days more than others. I think mom just has a hard time with fighting. She's the grandma, there's not suppose to be any fighting around grandma.
Tomorrow, Grammy actually has a project planned with the girls. I don't know what but it involves paint brushes. She even told me to take a break and go do whatever I want to do. That rarely happens. I need to go shopping for one more birthday present for Savannah and a Mother's Day present for myself and mom. Then I can go plant veggies in the garden after I till up more weeds. Now that school is done and I have submitted the final grades, I can focus on the garden. I do have sprouts already of spinach, beans, carrots, and peas. Yea!
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Ghost Rider
I just finished watching "Ghost Rider" with Nicholas Cage. It is about a guy who sold his soul to the Devil to save his Dad from cancer. However, the Devil causes his Dad to die in a motorcycle wreck. When the time came, the guy changed to a fiery skeleton whose job was to seek out the Devil's son who was causing havoc against his father. But the guy has a good heart and turns this curse into a hero. I like the movie. It is one of those movies I could watch repeatedly for some reason. There are some of those movies that have a certain entertaining quality that I can't get bored regardless. "Ghost Rider" is one of those. There is nothing complex, nothing complicated, nothing psychological. The story is about falling into darkness and then rising for good. A good heart prevails over darkness. Something like that. The movie also has a sexy motorcycle, flames and all.
I have calmed down the past couple of days. I saw Steve on Thursday, admitted I stopped taking my Zyprexa, got the lecture about running into a hypomania and then crashing hard, and decided to give the med another try but at half the dose. I'm feeling a little of the grogginess but not like before. I can actually function. Although if I sit down, especially in the mornings, I will close my eyes and lay there for awhile. The motivation level is still blah but slowly improving. At least I'm not agitated anymore.
I have calmed down the past couple of days. I saw Steve on Thursday, admitted I stopped taking my Zyprexa, got the lecture about running into a hypomania and then crashing hard, and decided to give the med another try but at half the dose. I'm feeling a little of the grogginess but not like before. I can actually function. Although if I sit down, especially in the mornings, I will close my eyes and lay there for awhile. The motivation level is still blah but slowly improving. At least I'm not agitated anymore.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
I need a Japanese Temple
A quiet room. An empty room. A gentle breeze. The soft rustling of leaves. Sunshine dappling across my face. A quiet place. I need a quiet place. I need a Japanese Temple.
My agitation level has red lined since yesterday afternoon and it has not dropped. Everything irritates me. Writing this blog is irritating me. I can't be irritable for no reason. I can't be irritable, I have kids to take care of. They don't need to be snapped at for no reason. Anxiety is creeping in as well. The sudden, breath-sucking, feeling of dread. I want to take a Xanax but I can't fall asleep with kids running around getting territorial with each other. I find myself pacing, looking for anything to keep me busy. I find myself staring out a window, sitting still so not to agitate anything on my body. My skin crawls sometimes. Sounds are too loud. Movement becomes too much. I need to call my therapist Steve. Maybe if I talk this out I might feel a bit in control or at least feel a little better. Writing this out helps. I'm going to go hide in my bed with my soft pillow and gentle blow of the fan.
My agitation level has red lined since yesterday afternoon and it has not dropped. Everything irritates me. Writing this blog is irritating me. I can't be irritable for no reason. I can't be irritable, I have kids to take care of. They don't need to be snapped at for no reason. Anxiety is creeping in as well. The sudden, breath-sucking, feeling of dread. I want to take a Xanax but I can't fall asleep with kids running around getting territorial with each other. I find myself pacing, looking for anything to keep me busy. I find myself staring out a window, sitting still so not to agitate anything on my body. My skin crawls sometimes. Sounds are too loud. Movement becomes too much. I need to call my therapist Steve. Maybe if I talk this out I might feel a bit in control or at least feel a little better. Writing this out helps. I'm going to go hide in my bed with my soft pillow and gentle blow of the fan.
Grandma
I have to say that I am not pregnant.Whew. PMDS is evil.
I've been very productive today cleaning Sierra's disastrous room. For a little girl, she sure can clutter a room. I have boxed toys after toys, and still with what she has, she can cover a whole floor, an obstacle course waiting in chaos. I fear she's going to be a hoarder when she is older. Runs in the family. My Grandma Ross could hoard clothes to the point you couldn't even fit a hand in between her clothes hanging in her closet. In fact she wouldn't wear those clothes but the ones in the other bedroom. She had five rooms filled with clothes come to think of it. And cats, she hoarded cats, poor things. She never believed in having her cats fixed so they kept multiplying to the point she would have 30 to 40 cats running around. Needless to say the smell was unbelievable. Grandma start living with my Aunt Jeanne, not only to take care of her, but to distant herself from the house.I heard Aunt Jeanne's was not much better except the smell was cigarette smoke.
I love my Grandma. Sadly she died in a car accident this past March. It still feels as though she is still in Alabama trying on some new jewelry she doesn't need and Jeanne having her drive her to another doctor's appointment so Jeanne could dope up on prescription meds.I just wish Grandma could have meet my girls. She would have loved them.I'm sad that she is gone but even more so that she never took the opportunity to meet her three great granddaughters.Now they'll never get to know the character Grandma was.
I've been very productive today cleaning Sierra's disastrous room. For a little girl, she sure can clutter a room. I have boxed toys after toys, and still with what she has, she can cover a whole floor, an obstacle course waiting in chaos. I fear she's going to be a hoarder when she is older. Runs in the family. My Grandma Ross could hoard clothes to the point you couldn't even fit a hand in between her clothes hanging in her closet. In fact she wouldn't wear those clothes but the ones in the other bedroom. She had five rooms filled with clothes come to think of it. And cats, she hoarded cats, poor things. She never believed in having her cats fixed so they kept multiplying to the point she would have 30 to 40 cats running around. Needless to say the smell was unbelievable. Grandma start living with my Aunt Jeanne, not only to take care of her, but to distant herself from the house.I heard Aunt Jeanne's was not much better except the smell was cigarette smoke.
I love my Grandma. Sadly she died in a car accident this past March. It still feels as though she is still in Alabama trying on some new jewelry she doesn't need and Jeanne having her drive her to another doctor's appointment so Jeanne could dope up on prescription meds.I just wish Grandma could have meet my girls. She would have loved them.I'm sad that she is gone but even more so that she never took the opportunity to meet her three great granddaughters.Now they'll never get to know the character Grandma was.
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