Merry Christmas!!!

Merry Christmas!!!

*Bold letters and strikethroughs indicate David’s corrections when Liz accidentally asked him to look this letter over before sending it out

Hello All Friends and Family! (and potential detractors… you know who you are…)

This year we’ve been blessed to have many adventures. From backpacking .25 miles in the beautiful Sierras, to our first trip together to Yosemite, to visiting family in Washington. As a former East Coast girl, I’ve been amazed at the wonder and beauty of, what David has demanded  accurately suggested it be referred to as, “the good side of the United States… or really anyplace (in both time and space) incomparable to any other location. As such it is and will forever be unnecessary to travel to or acknowledge the existence of anywhere else.”  

Eilee just turned nine conquered her eighth year of existence and is pretty sure she is on the brink of adulthood will be turning 27 next year... She loves pokemon, enforcing others acknowledge the superiority of pomeranians, comic books, creating beautiful art, and writing stories. We have watched her grow a great deal this year in intelligence and maturity. She is a wonderful benevolent older sister, and a great example to all who know her.

Cora is a six years old female dwarven barbarian, skilled in both fists and battleaxes and is very happy to announce that she has lost her two bottom front teeth and that the experience was only mildly traumatic. She loves to dance, collect pokemon cards, hew through the raiding parties of goblins, and is obsessed with kittens. She continues to be a loving cuddle bug and skips wherever she goes to and from battle.

Both girls recently begun playing D&D with their dad (who is very proud).

Wren will turn two in February. Despite being small for her age she is a force to be reckoned with will make with the slapping if you don’t get get your butt off her blanket and bring her a graham cracker. Wren would very much like to spend every day dedicated to watching Moana and Boss Baby back to back while eating California’s entire supply of mandarins or an entire head of raw broccoli thus keep her alkali levels at peak performance, but has acknowledged that playing outside kettlebells, deadlifts and krav maga is are also an acceptable activityies.  Like her sisters before her she is strong willed will vanquish the enemy hordes but is also loving and silly.

Eilee and Cora were very excited to perform in the Nutcracker this year, and were even more excited when they discovered they’d be in a scene together. Eilee was a soldier and Cora was a mouse. In the Nutcracker the soldiers and mice fight, so having Eilee and Cora play those parts proved that art does indeed imitate real life.

David and I just celebrated our 10th Wedding Anniversary and came to the conclusion that we really are quite fond of this whole marriage business and are glad we selected “forever” as our prerogative.

We love all of you and hope you have a wonderful Holiday Season!

Much Love,

Liz, David, Eilee, Cora, and Wren

Living With Postpartum Anxiety

I dreaded writing about this. I barely found the strength to admit it to others in person. My dad is a clinical psychologist, so I was accustomed to the idea that if you think something might be wrong, you do something about it. You tell people. You seek help. There's no shame in that. None at all. I knew the signs of anxiety and depression; I had read about them plenty of times before, but I had no idea what a burden it can be and the shame it brings until I experienced it myself. 

It started with nightmares. Of horrible things happening to my baby and other children and I did nothing. My brain couldn't make the connection that something was wrong until I woke up feeling ashamed and terrified.  Then the anxiety took root. I felt distant from my baby. The blissful quiet in my heart that I experienced when my second child was a newborn wasn't there. It was like another person, a miserable person, was trying to take over my body. I'd wake up with a sore jaw in the morning because I spent most of the day and the evening before clenching my teeth. 

Several times I had to call my husband to come home because I couldn't cope. I'd sob in his arms the minute he'd arrive. Finally I called my OBGYN, came in for an appointment, and told him how I was feeling. He prescribed me medication, and I slowly felt things returning to normal. I could hold my baby without feeling like I was the wrong mother for her. I could say "I love you" to my children without wondering if it was a lie. The miserable person trying to take over me shrunk, until it got so small I barely acknowledged it at all. The anxiety makes a mild return when I talk about it, so typically I avoid even thinking about how it once made me feel, but women need to know about this. They need to know that postpartum depression and anxiety is real, and nothing to be ashamed of. Please seek help if something doesn't seem right. There are some things in this world that we weren't meant to bear alone. 

Dear Morning People

Dear Morning People,

You’re so chipper, so alert, so well kept. Congrats on the matching clothes and perfectly coiffed hair. You look great! That joke you just made about birds was probably smashing, although I’m not entirely sure, since the only people who laughed at it are other morning people and they seem to smile and laugh at everything this time of day. But can we talk about something that’s been bothering me? Now that it’s the am and based on your smile you’ve apparently had your rejuvenating breakfast/yoga/jog/caffeine/virgin sacrifice, I’d like to let you in on a little piece of advice.

Not all of us are like you, some of us will never be fully awake before 11am. When you’re talking and laughing and joking we are in what feels like a permanent state of cringing because you might touch us and you really really shouldn’t touch us right now we’re not kidding get away why are you so close stop it, yes I’ll take that breakfast bagel thank you. Oh you didn’t understand what I said? It was “thank you”, I know it sounded more like “maaawwnron afrgr” but that’s how we say thank you before banks are open.

Conversations: they’re great. We’re not adverse to them one to three hours from now, but you really want to stick with speaking to your fellow “early birds” at this moment, since the rest of us are still struggling with remembering how things like syntax works and what manners are.  

Now, I’m fully aware that your sister’s friend’s cousin used to NEVER be a morning person and then CHANGED their attitude and now they sing as they make a gourmet breakfast every morning for their family of seven well groomed honor students. You seem to be very fond of telling us that story as we try, ineffectually, to get you to stop talking to us. But here’s the thing: we’re not your sister’s friend’s cousin. Many of us have tried that “just have a better attitude method” and it just didn’t work out. You see, morning’s are not for us. Our bodies don’t want to be awake and are constantly screaming at us for getting out of the warm blanketed paradise of our beds. Also, there’s something wrong with our eyes, and the sun is just...man...such a jerk right now...such a jerk. I just….I just need to be alone...with my bagel. Where did that bagel go?

I guess what I’m trying to say is that we don’t hate you, we’re not intentionally rude, and we don’t mean to be dismissive. We’re just not firing on all cylinders yet and need some time to accept that we’re not in bed anymore. Now please leave me a lone with my bagel and ignore the incoherent mumblings as we stare at the wall. Thanks.

Sincerely,

The Not Morning People

A Belated Introduction

I have debated whether or not to put pictures of myself or my children in my blog. Then I took a look at other blogs and realized ones without pictures were usually pretty boring. So I'm introducing my family. And I'm adding pictures.

This is me. I'm a bit of an oddball, but I'm okay with that...most of the time.

This is my husband, pictured when our cat was a wee one and we were newlyweds. He's handsome, kind, ridiculously intelligent and fits into my realm of weirdness very nicely. I really really love him. Although not pictured, he is usually bearded. And he works it. ;)

This is my oldest, Eilee (pronounced EYE-lee) Rose, who will turn 3 this December. She is loving, bright, energetic and headstrong. Eilee is a princess and she knows it. In fact, she likes to remind the world of this fact by almost always wearing dresses and a tiara. While I certainly didn't discourage it, I didn't program her to be that way. She just is.

This is my baby girl Cora Lynn. She is calm, happy, and magnificently pudgy. Much of her personality is yet to be revealed, as she is only 5 months old. She loves to be close to her mommy, and has a habit of making people smile.


The four (five if you count the cat, I guess) of us live in an upstairs two bedroom apartment. We're planning on buying a 3 bedroom home as soon as we find "the one". Until then we have our mutual craziness to keep each other company.

Lazy treats and Scruff McGruff

It has come to my attention that, while I've been neglecting my new blog, I've been spending waaaaaaaaaay too much time on Facebook. However every time I get on here I get instant writers block, mentally drooling all over my brain because I honestly can't think of anything particularly interesting or witty to say. THIS ENDS TODAY. So I'll be writing more often. I promise. Pinky promise. And since my writing skills are uber rusty I'm just gonna mention some new things I've been doing and learning lately.

Weight loss after having a new baby is a pain in the...everywhere. Especially when you can't starve yourself with nifty diets because you're nursing and need the nutrients to feed your little citizen. So I've had to eat healthier, which I honestly don't like very much. I could lie to myself and say I love vegetables but I don't. Most vegetables taste like dirt to me. I get used to it once I'm in the "eating healthy zone", but it's expensive and time consuming and I WANT ICE CREAM ALL THE TIME! But recently I found a little trick to help out with my sweet tooth without completely conquering my laziness. I've discovered Juicy Juice Fruit Punch. It is the best tasting 100% juice in my price range that I've had so far and it's even better in slushy form. I take an entire container and put it in the freezer in the morning. After an hour I take it out, shake it, and have an instant frozen treat that doesn't give me the guilt of a milkshake. I told you I was lazy.

I've been turning off the TV more and more often around the kiddies these days. It's super difficult, and often annoying, but looking back on it I'm glad of it. I'm not one of those people who will ever get rid of their TV altogether "for the sake of the children", but I've been limiting it and really enjoying the time spent playing with my kiddos, mostly Eilee, my two year old. She's obsessed with princesses, which is cute and all, but I've been trying to expand her horizons and have her pretend to be more of an adventurer. She doesn't like it as much, which is funny because when I was a kid I desperately wanted to be Scruff McGruff and "take a bite outta crime." Not really because I wanted to fight bad guys, I just thought it'd be cool to become a talking dog.

I had more to say, and I probably would spend a decent amount of time correcting my grammar mistakes and basic writing faux pas, but as my darling oldest child is demanding a lollipop in the bathtub, I'd best call it a day.

My 11 year old mind

When I was 11 years old I was homeschooled and my mother made me write in a journal. Sometimes I enjoyed this, but usually I was lazy and had to have my mother force me to get anything down. I discovered my journal quite some time ago and was greatly amused by a passage I wrote that pretty well defined my personality with regards to anything work related. So here it is, a work of 11 year old prose from 1997:

August, 23, 1997
Boy is my mom fussy. She makes me do work in the Summer. I can't stand it. I've had a lot of stuff happening. I going to be in a play, I'm going to be in a Finally (I meant "finale")--life is just tuff on me. It's hard to get through I have to go outside and play so bye. Oh I have to keep on going moms being bossy, I hate doing this reading is great but this.
I'd rather go play. Why me I have to do so much boring stuff wile every bodys playing. Why cant I write when I have the time insted of makeing me write when I dont want to. writing also hurts your wrist. Its just a big waste of time. Someday I may be the smartest person in the world and the'll (in my mind "the'll" were news reporters) ask if reading is better or is writing. and I'll say reading because writing hurts your hand and Its really really boring. and the person (news reporter again) will ask the second smartest person in the world and she will say DIDO (I meant "ditto").

Yeah, I was kind of a brat sometimes. Still waiting for that "Smartest Person in the World" title so I can answer that all-important question.

The funny thing about two-year olds is...

The funny thing about two-year-olds is...everything. Everything about them is ridiculous. Two-year-olds are ridiculous people. They're old enough to be independent and defiant but often too young to explain ways to make their lives easier. They can recite their favorite song but can't remember anything about the 50 million times you told them not to color on the walls. They want to dress themselves, which often means you're leaving the house with a child whose shoes are not only on the wrong feet, she's also made a brave attempt to wear pants like a shirt. Your pants.
I have a disciplinary book that swears by the counting method, as long as it is used with consistency. e.g. Don't count if you don't plan on getting up and putting them in time out. This does not work when you're in a store and your kid is acting like the grocery cart is a surf board. Time out? Where? In the corner of the cart? Please. So you threaten to take something away from them that they really like. The problem with this is that you have to remember to bring something they really like everywhere you go. You also have to depend on that particular toy to keep it's charm throughout the trip, which often isn't the case. Baby dolls lose their luster, electronic toys get monotonous, and candy is consumed too quickly with dire sugar-related consequences. So I've recently moved on to a worse threat: buckles. To my daughter there is nothing the world worse than confinement (or a shower but that's a story for another day).  Since I have an infant now it means moving the sleeping baby from her carseat that cleverly snaps into the cart, and putting a screaming, thrashing two year old in the seat and strapping her in while the baby hangs out in the lower section.
I have done this quite a few times on many a grocery trip. Always at the same store. The amazing thing about it? People still tell me my kid is cute. They smile at her, talk to her, the cashiers comment on how big she's getting. It's strange if you don't realize the fact that most of them have gone through the same thing. Sure their kids are always different and they've had to make different adjustments than mine because of it, but they've all had the same tired look in their eyes. They've all had the same feeling of embarrassment and parenting inadequacy. You can follow the advice of a discipline book exactly and still not get the results it promises. Children are imperfect and so are their parents. So why do we do this? Why do we put up with the frustration and exhaustion? Because it's amazing. Because even when they're screaming from their bedroom when they're supposed to be taking a nap while mommy's writing her blog, you love them. Because nothing can darken the sweet moments of pure joy you spend with them. Because you can never forget that look on their face when they figure out how to draw that circle for the first time, or when they cuddle up to you while you read a book and the whole world slows down just to keep the moment a little longer.
So I move on, sometimes smiling, sometimes not, but never, never regretting the choice I made to start a family. And when things get really tough, I can always somehow make time to read a comic book in the bathtub. :)