Coping with School Days

Alexander started Pre-K this week.  He's doing great and impressing his teachers which I never had any worries about.  I worried about Audrey adjusting,  but she seems to be doing fine with everything except it messing with her nap time.  

The problem, of course, is me.  I had one of the worst anxiety attacks I've had in a while on Sunday.  If you aren't really familiar with them, let me help you.



F is for Fucktard. Source



First, it starts out innocently enough.  There's a little tugging in your chest, like you have a bit of heartburn.  You start chewing on your fingernails like mad.  Before long, you're arms get kind of achy like right after working out.  Then, that little tugging turns into a feeling akin to an elephant with a weight problem standing on you, making margaritas whilst doing the salsa to Ricky Martin's "She Bangs" on your chest.  Then the panic sets in.  You feel invisible eyes on you all the time.  You're skin crawls while simultaneously trying to turn itself inside out.  And that's just day one.  You can't sleep which only intensifies the symptoms the next day. 

Before you even know it, depression sneaks up on you like a bitch in the night. Then you feel like sleeping all the time and the only thing that really gives you any satisfaction is food and sex.  Luckily, I have a husband now to provide me with the latter.  The food is becoming a bit of a problem.

Yesterday, my coping mechanisms involved pizza rolls, a turtle sundae shake and mozzarella sticks from Sonic, and burritos from Taco Villa.  Today, it was chicken fried rice, fried wontons, and Chex Mix muddy buddies.  Oh yeah, I had those yesterday too.

I'm scared by the time he graduates high school, I'll be one of those ladies they have to cut out of their houses just so I can attend the ceremonies.  They'll have to build a parade float with tassels and garland to cart me there.  Why not have a marching band too.  Seems like a festive occasion.



I would be the sun, obviously. 
\And, it only makes sense to be sponsored by Waste Management.
Source

I feel down in the very deepness of my soul that if I could just cry for like an hour I would be okay.  The anxiety would go away and take it's whore of a wife, depression with it.  But that's the Catch-22 with insanity.  The medication I'm on won't let me.  It won't let me cry.  I can tear up a little bit when I find something moving on a show or see someone do something extraordinary for someone else, but anything personal, and Zoloft the plumber has turned off the waterworks.  The only way to get the tears is to stop taking the medication which will cause a downward spiral of depression and with it, anxiety.  Damned if you do, fucked if you don't. 

Bastard.  Source

I'll be better soon.....I hope.  It usually only takes a few days for the crazies to wear off.  I'm fighting them, I really am.  I hate that my husband walks in, looks around the messy house, the dishes in the sink, no dinner on the table, etc a wonders what the hell I did all day.  He has a hard time understanding that some days, it takes all I have just to keep myself above water, so to speak.  I say it's my back pain or a migraine that's kept me from the housework but really it's the drain of energy it takes to keep myself together. 

I'll be better soon.  I will. 

"Can you take them with you? How about just the little one?"

I find myself sometimes thinking of how fast I could get things done, if I didn’t have the kids with me.  In fact, every time I go to the store, if my husband asks me to take the kids along, I have my excuses in my pocket, ready to use, for why they should stay home.

Loading and unloading them from the car takes forever.

We have to look at the fishies even if we aren’t going to the pet department for any other reason, ESPECIALLY if we didn’t even need to be on that side of the store.

Audrey’s going to have a poopy diaper. 

Alexander will need to pee when we’ve made it as far away from the bathrooms as we could have gone after changing said poopy diaper.

Alexander is going to insist on stopping outside the store for bubble gum because he's been a good boy.  I always have to dig in the bottom of my purse for a quarter.

Then, when I finally make it home, unload the kids, unpack the groceries, Chris will make some comment along the lines, “Did you forget the toilet paper?” CRAP!!  Back to the store.

“Could you take the kids?”

It’s not always so bad.  Today, in fact, my little walk to the store would have totally sucked rocks if the kids weren’t with me.  I decided if I’m going to get up the energy to pack up the house for our little move, I needed caffeine.  So, I fished some change out of my husband’s can (Do they all have one? Or is it just mine?) , and we started out on the three block stroll to the closest convenience store, Audrey in her stroller, Alexander on foot.

Our first distraction was a broken bird’s egg. 

There's a small possibility it's just
a chicken egg that fell out of the garbage.

Alexander stomped on it then said, “It’s okay, Mama. The birdie already hatched and flew away from it’s parents’ home.” 

For the rest of the walk, Alexander said he could “actually run the rest of the way.”  He has informed me in the past that he is “faster than a cheetah”.  I kept up the best I could, listening to his little humming song and her oh’s and ah’s at the world around her. 

We reached the store and took several minutes to pick out our drinks.  Alexander disappeared around the corner to pick out a snack.  A snack wasn’t in the budget, but it still worked out somehow.

On the trip home, we had to stop four times to take drinks and munch on mini peanut butter crackers.  Alexander found an evergreen shrub with those little blue buds on them. 

He may be smart, but his shorts are still on backwards!

He also found out you can pull those little blue buds off and throw them....at mommy.  That was fun.

He just looks sweet and innocent. 

So, what would have been a ten minute walk alone turned into a 30 minute adventure with my amazing kids.  Alone, I would have returned home hot, sweaty, and tired.  Instead, I got to watch the excitment of my little guy as he discovered things he had never seen, listen to my daughter hum songs and enjoy the outdoors, and I came home refreshed and energized, ready for action!  Who needs caffeine when you can be fueled by the spirit of a 3 year old and the wonder of a baby?

Who am I kidding, I still need the caffeine.