Still Here!

Bad Blogger!!! Okay, so we've been a little busy AND we've been having some trouble with our website. I'm sure it is something that won't take long to figure out, but we just haven't taken the time to actually figure it out. I am (in my head) working on a couple posts that I will put up soon. The fence is done (aside from staining), we have weight loss news and...oh yeah, I'm going to be 30 in 33 days! And since this is mostly to let you all know I haven't lost interest in the blog here is our son.

Yes, those are sandals and santa socks.

Hmm....now where did those skinny capri-alls go?

Oh My!

Years ago, as I much too quickly outgrew clothes, I decided to keep some of my “skinny” jeans. Of course they aren’t actual skinny jeans, but those from my “skinnier” days that were kept in a tote along with my maternity clothes marked “Mandy’s Someday Clothes”.  Much to my pleasure I have started to fit into some of those jeans and upon further inspection discovered that I have a wardrobe full of jeans in the size I am sooooo close to fitting into. Score!

Well….maybe?

Given that we run a rather tight budget I was more than ecstatic to discover I might not have to buy new jeans and that I just have to tough it out a couple more pounds. Until I realized that almost 30 year old me is not interested in wearing jeans where my crack is hanging out. What the hell was I thinking? Oh I know, I was young, but looking at the stash of jeans I see a number of pairs that are low rise with a bunch of zippers and pockets. They were definitely trendy at the time and I wouldn’t say they would seem outdated now, except maybe for the current version of me. Don’t get me wrong I’m not ready to hang it up and get “Mom Jeans”

(best SNL commercial EVER, by the way)

Quite the opposite. I still want to find a pair of smokin’ hot jeans that make me look sexy as hell  (heck maybe I will own a few) but they most certainly won’t include a view of my crack.

Oh and I absolutely will be passing on the shirts that expose my midriff.

*So close to many reveals! Our fence is almost done and both Zippercow and myself are closing in on some personal weight loss goals!

It’s the Little Things…

I am grateful the worst thing that happened to my toddler today is that I took away the meat thermometer which meant he could no longer accurately gage the temp of his his plastic bagel.

Fencing in the Herd: Part 2

And onward it goes!

Part 2: As the Fence Post Turns

Last week Zippercow took the entire week off to help get the fence started. We hired our handyman (we’ve used him a couple times and will use him again!) to help get the fence posts in. Thank goodness, because I think a lot of damage could have been done to our bank account and our yard if Zippercow had done this all himself.

The materials were so heavy Ziggy’s almost needed to send it on two trucks. The kids got a kick out of the fork lift driving around the back yard. Oh, and this…

Little Moo was sad he wasn’t allowed any closer. He watched for hours!

And what do you do after you dig a bunch of big holes?

Fill it with your children and husband!

After a week of hard work, well…there is still a lot to do, but at least the fence posts are in!

So many more stories to unravel, so stay tune for more riveting tales from Fencing in the Herd! [insert eye roll here]

*Thanks to my super hubby we have saved a lot of money and are going to have a completed fence soon!

Moving on up!

This is a way overdue post but if you read my last post you’ll see that I’ve been a little…occupied.

Our boys are moving up in the world. Littlest Moo thought it would be stellar to fly out of his crib so it was time to move him out of his crib

To his “big boy” bed.

It was rocky the first night. He slept through the night but it was like trying to get a cat into the tub to lay him down on his bed. THANKFULLY that lasted all of a couple days. Now he sleeps in there just fine! So big!

Oh, and about 4 days in his big bed he lost his paci, as in, Zippercow took it and told him he is a big boy and big boys don’t sleep with pacies. Strangely that seemed to work. It seems harsh to do it all at once but in Zippercow’s defense his pacies started to tear and we sure as hell weren’t going buy more to just take them away a few weeks later.

*Sniff* my baby isn’t a baby anymore but a full fledged toddler. They grow up so fast.

But that is not all!

Our plan all along was to get Little Moo a bunk bed for his birthday and give Littlest Moo his old mattress and box spring. This was going to take place this summer, but instead Littlest Moo’s circus escapades left us in predicament. We tossed around a couple ideas but in the end it was decided just to go through with our original plan, just sooner than anticipated. This pleased Little Moo.

While I had my concerns about the top bunk and him being too young, he seems quite at home up there!

Man they are getting big!

Our Melee with Mental Illness

This was a hard one to write. Most of my posts are about our kiddos or random things floating around in my brain. Generally I prefer to be sarcastic (and presumably funny).But this…this is a much more serious topic. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to write about this, but I thought it would be good for me and hopefully helpful to others experiencing a similar situation. And I want others to know there is no shame in getting help for mental illness. The only shame would be not getting the help you need and dealing with what could be dire consequences.

Mental illness is no stranger to Zippercow or myself.  Chronic depression (I’m not really sure what the clinical term is) is prevalent in my family and Zippercow encountered some pretty serious struggles in his teen years. Since then we’ve both managed to keep ourselves put together for the most part. Until recently.

It started with a phone call.  Every Sunday when I’m at work I call and check in with Zippercow and the kids during my morning break. Mostly just to say hi and see if they need me to get anything on the way home. It was different this day. He was REALLY frustrated with the children, not his usual “the kids woke when you left (at 6:10 am) and are being especially “pleasant” as a result” frustrated, this was different. He sounded off. I gave him some ideas for the kids and said “ I don’t care what you do, but find something to occupy them, a movie, candy, whatever works and I will deal with them when I get home”.

When I got home he was sitting in the recliner and his face was void of, well…anything. I was hoping he just really needed a break. I packed up the kids and took them with me grocery shopping. We returned and while he had showered he was back in the recliner and unresponsive. We agreed that a good night’s sleep was needed (since we hadn’t slept well the previous few nights) and we went to bed earlier than usual (at least I think we did?).

The next morning he got up to shower, returned to our room and didn’t come out. As far as I knew he was doing just fine. I was wrong. When I went in he was laying in bed, fully dressed. I asked him if he wasn’t feeling well thinking maybe he had come down with something. “I just can’t do it” he said. “Do what? Go to work?” I asked. “yes” he replied. Now I was really worried. Even on his worst grumpy days (and that is really what his worst days were, just unexplained grumpiness) he still went about his day like normal. This was new, and much more serious. I let him sleep for a little bit but then came in and opened the curtains. I told him “It is fine to take a mental health day, but you will not stay in bed and sleep all day. You can play your game, read your book (which I handed him, Mockingjay if you were curious) or hang out with us but sleeping all day is not an option, it will only make it impossible to sleep at night making your problems worse”. I was calm and kind (but stern) when I said this. I let him be and checked in on him throughout the morning. Around noon he was still in bed but reading. I went in and told him “I think it’s time, today you will call and make an appointment with a someone.” We cried silently together and it was set in motion.

Photo provided by The Gemini Geek

I suppose it would help to know that we’ve always treated our mental illness (or potential for) very matter of factly and have talked about at length that if one or the other of us says it is time to seek professional help we will trust each other and go.

It was time.

I did some research and found someone close to his work and asked him “ Are you going to call or would you like me to?” He opted to have me call and we set it up. Three weeks out, but still, just knowing that relief was on its way seemed to help him.

A little.

Each day since has been a bit of a rollercoaster on the verge of collapse. I would think he was feeling better and without notice his mood would change drastically. It took all of my energy to stay calm and supportive of him and also stay calm for the kids. We joke. He isn’t in the dark of his condition, he is fully aware and just wants to feel better. This at least is promising. Now we need to just get to his appointment in one (if slightly fractured) piece. Unfortunately this happened to be a week of many obligations that required me to be away from home. While I wasn’t concerned that anything would happen to the kids, I certainly didn’t want to leave anything to chance so I worked tirelessly at setting up help and support for Zippercow and arranged a few options in case it was “just too much”.  We made it through the first week mostly. I kind of had a melt down after the first week. In times of trouble or stress I always look to Zippercow for support, this of course is not possible when he is having difficulty dealing with his own stuff, I don’t need to put more on his shoulders, or worse unintentionally make him feel guilty. I have been honest with my feelings with him during the last week but I certainly didn’t unload on him or complain about how tough this has been for me.

But it has been.

I have felt so totally isolated and helpless. And it is has terrified me to see Zippercow this way.Zippercow doesn’t mind if I talk to other adults about it, he is not ashamed of something he has no control over, but he does not want the kids to know, for now. It is about now that I realize I haven’t been all that great of a friend to my friends and feel bad unloading all this on them. How can expect others to be there for me if I haven’t been all that supportive of them?Am I handling this okay? This is just one week, what if this goes on for much longer, if there are problems his treatment? So I start my own spiral. I don’t think my occasional breakdowns are a sign of my own mental illness, but just a release of a weeks worth of keeping things together. It takes so much effort to keep everyone engaged and create some normalcy for the kids.

I’m grateful for my family, for a husband who has the wherewithal to get help when he needs it. A man who loves me and our children and even on the worst days does not lash out at me or the kids. That would cost too much.

Yesterday was a bad day.

And today, well he left work in the middle of the day. Just left.

And came home.

Two weeks left.

Did I mention we also put down a lot of money on a fence Zippercow is supposed to start building next week? And we have a multiple family events to attend during Easter weekend?

I’m trying not to panic. One day at a time. We will take it one day at a time.

**Update** It is a week later and fortunately Zippercow seems to be himself as far as I can tell. I hesitated to post this and wanted his permission and thought it best to wait  until he was feeling more baseline. He still doesn’t trust himself and has asked me to keep him in check but also claims to be feeling much more normal and is currently helping to get our fence in. I’m proud of the steps he’s taken to be healthy and I support his efforts to not only be physically healthy, but mentally healthy for himself and our family.

* I would like to thank our friends and family that have been there for us in many ways. Everyone that helped to dig out the fence line contributed to one of Zippercow’s good days. Also I know posting this may get negative feedback from friends or family who think poorly of those who seek mental health services.

Walk it off

Exciting news in the Herd household, Little Moo just started junior wrestling! It has been an interesting ordeal and I definitely had my misgivings but so far he seems to be enjoying it. Little Moo isn’t the most rough and tumble guy and even if he is sent to play outside he is more likely to sit and dig in the dirt than chase after a ball. We know, accept and love this about him so I’m sure you could see how I would be concerned how wrestling might go for him, but since his uncle is a wrestling coach and has taken Little Moo to a couple practices and got him excited about it we thought “sure, why not?”.  You have to love his spirit because he clearly is lacking in some natural athletic ability but he makes up for it with his exuberance and every week I see him slowly but surely learning the skills (and even applying some of them). These things made me nervous for him, along with realizing that this will be a large learning experience in disappointment and that we aren’t always the best and don’t always win. These are all things we want for him to learn but that doesn’t mean it isn’t still painful to watch.

Even more painful (for me) is the attitude of the adults around him. It all started with the little boy Little Moo  had been partnered with  (multiple practices)  and his whiney attitude, complaining that he knows how to do it and refusing to let LM do the moves on him and telling the coach that it is easy. So then the coach (not his uncle Nustin, but the other coach that splits the practices with uncle Nustin)  tells me and the boys that they will get different partners next week then turns to Little Moo and says “ We gotta get you a little more aggressive out there!” then looks to me and says “you know, get someone to throw him around a little”.

WTF?!

He continues on to tell us how excited LM’s uncle is that he is wrestling and that maybe he (Uncle Nustin ) “will come over and kick you in the ribs a little”. Maybe it was the horrified look on my face, but he slapped at Little  Moo playfully and said “just kidding bud”. 

I have a problem with this on so many levels that I’m not even sure where to begin. My biggest issue is the idea that boys have to be aggressive. Why? Why do we encourage this in young boys and why is it that if a boy isn’t aggressive he isn’t the right kind of boy, a sissy, a pantywaist?Why is being aggressive a trait we value in boys? I know that some boys are  aggressive naturally and as such should be taught how to harness that energy, but if they aren’t why do insist that they learn this trait, force them to be something they aren’t?  I knew this was going to be an issue going into this sport, but since they are five and beginners I was hoping it wouldn’t be quite so competitive. I was wrong. That same practice there was a dad “helping” coach a couple of boys  (since there aren’t enough coaches some of the dads “help”) and they were really going hard and at multiple times one or both of the boys were in tears and both dads of the boys were egging them on, encouraging them to “get ’em”. It was very clear these boys could use a breather but the coach just walked by grinning. Ugh. They are five! They should be enjoying it, not in tears!

Also, who tells a kid that their uncle should come “kick you in your ribs”? So if a boy doesn’t have the aggressive quality you deem necessary you will send an adult in to rough him up? A five year old? Seriously! I know that my issue comes from my years in the social work field, and that you would NEVER say something like that to a kid, especially to one you don’t know because you never know how true this will be or  maybe they already live in fear of men (or adults) and such a comment could illicit fear. I forget that just because someone works with or teaches kids doesn’t mean they are good at relating to children. Fortunately for Little Moo (and me) his Uncle Nustin is an excellent coach. He is supportive in the right ways and encourages the kids to have fun and learn, which is what this beginning wrestling program is supposed to be about.

Just like I can’t stand the pushing of girls as being a “princess”  I also can’t stand the idea that boys are pushed into being rough and aggressive. Why must we break them? Little Moo truly is enjoying himself, has an upbeat attitude and so far has handled being a good sport well. Why fix what isn’t broken?

I know all this from a mom might just sound like I’m being over sensitive, that maybe I’m babying him. That isn’t the case. I let him experience disappointment as well as pride in accomplishment and I’ll be honest, I am competitive. I want him to be the best at what he does and I want him to win. I’d be lying if I said otherwise, but not at the cost of breaking his sweet nature.

Quite honestly I would be fine if he decided to join the marching band. At least that I understand. East Valley does have a strolling strings program….hmm….

* We did not get good photos from his first tournament but I can guarantee that there will be some that make it into a post in the near future!