I had a lot of plans for today, this first official day of summer vacation.
Bertski started his new job today, so it’s my first day home with the boys all. by. my. self.
I gotta say, it’s been a relief and a huge comfort having Bertski home to help with the boys the past 4 weeks….Fun, even.
But now it’s just me….and the rambunctious, rowdy, raucous energy that encapsulates 2 & 5 year olds. It bounces off the walls, off the couch and off of our dining room chairs as squeals of delight and laughter burst from their little bodies…As loud as it gets and as chaotic as they can be, their shenanigans prove an effective way to quiet the noise and chaos in my own mind.
Last summer, the thought of being home by myself with them was overwhelming and my anxiety was through the roof. This summer, though, I find myself feeling much different. I’ve moved from beyond the grip of PPD, and no longer feel as disconnected & detached from them as I used to. Incorporating new meds and increasing the dosage on others has left me feeling about 75% better than I was 3-4 weeks ago.
I could feel a twinge of depression about an hour ago, and instead of being swept away by it, I felt mentally strong enough (thanks to my meds) to pause and figure out what it was stemming from.
Expectations. I had a lot of plans for today which led me to expect a fun-filled, productive day with the boys. I had a lot of expectations for today and for this summer because I want for it so much to not be like last year. I expected to start off our first day trying to make up for all the time I’ve lost from being too sick or too busy with school to really engage & just play with them.
I wanted to prove to myself I could take care of us, and handle being home without freaking out or being overwhelmed. I wanted to get up early, go for my morning walk/jog, make breakfast, take the boys out, and have them do more than just watch Nick Jr. or game on the XBox and iPad. I wanted to cook & have a hot meal on the table when Bertski gets home. I wanted to do yoga and write…
I had all of these fabulous “I’m going to be Wonder Woman today,” plans but I’ll be lucky if I can do more than move from the corner of the couch I currently occupy. My laptop is dead so any writing I do either has to wait or be done from my phone, with one hand. While doing a downward facing dog last week during my oh so glorious yoga routine, I strained some tendons & ligaments in my left arm and pulled a muscle in my chest. In other words I can’t move the left side of my upper body unless I want to die from pain or I’ve ingested a Motrin the size of my head. (Which is why, for the first time ever, I wish I had what they call a “peanut” head) Even turning my neck is painful. Docs orders? Rest for two weeks, follow up with an orthopedist. Oh & have I mentioned Brennan’s ringworm? Yea. That.
So here I am, with Whitney Houston’s version of “I’m Every Woman,” blasting in my head, stuck on the couch, my plans to tackle our first day of summer useless. No exercising. No yoga. Limited writing. Tired from pain & meds. A bouncy mattress, graham crackers, and Nick Jr. have been keeping the boys busy while I just sit here and watch to make sure they don’t kill each other. I did make the pot of pinto beans I wanted but learned cooking with one arm just isn’t a good idea….not if you don’t want your kids to find you passed out in the kitchen from pain.
Plans. Expectations. I had a laundry list of them today, thinking that accomplishing them all would ensure I’d be a “better mom” & woman than I have been in the past. So when I realized I was going to have to lay all of them aside, I started to get down on myself. The negative self-talk and guilt tape started to play in my mind…anxiety kicked in and set the “worst case scenario” snowball in motion. As my mind started to spiral into OCD mode and my emotions took a dive, I felt myself pause, just for a second, and I remembered something I learned in therapy:
“Change your expectations. Work within your limits, use what you DO have…Choose kindness. Be compassionate with yourself.”
That one second, filled to the brim of that crucial thought, was enough to stop depression in its tracks.
I changed the tape. Laughed at how ridiculous I must have looked as I hustled my way around the kitchen, thinking that home cooked food would cement my worthiness to my family. We may not be crafting and doing some of the activities I wanted but we’ve had a blast this morning singing Fresh Beat Band songs, getting angry at Dora (she sucks as a pirate), and watching these two bounce around and wrestle is downright hilarious.
Taking that brief pause allowed me to readjust and reframe. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to keep me from slipping over the edge. Expectations are tricky-give them too much power and they can set you up for failure. That hasn’t been easy to remember but I’m learning managing them in a healthy way makes a huge difference in how I see and treat myself.
My plans for today and the first two weeks of summer got tossed out the window, but I’m okay with that for once. We’ll figure it out and on the days I can’t, I’m perfectly fine with lounging around the apartment bra-less, in sweats, tapping my toes to “I’m Every Woman,” like I am right now. All that matters is that I’m here, being present and trying to enjoy the moments as they come. Sounds pretty productive if you really think about it