I tried to organize my thoughts about this upcoming season of life into something as concise as an Instagram caption, but alas, it couldn't be done. Turns out I have a lot to say on the subject, so I've dusted off the old blog to try to make sense of things.
I keep making the mistake of thinking "this is it." I get into bad habits with my depression sometimes, and I let myself believe that a new job or place or thing or even person will fi everything and make me happy. And they usually do, for a time, and then that only familiar darkness starts to creep back in, or else outside circumstances take the new thing away before I'm prepared to be without it, and it becomes that much harder to pick up the pieces afterward.
We moved out here just over a year ago thinking everything was going to change for us. We had been struggling for several months, and feeling a little hopeless. My dad offered what we thought was the forever solution. My dad has enjoyed a successful career with the railroad. It took us out of near-poverty when we were kids, and it is a great job if everything falls into place in just the right way.
Which it did not, unfortunately.
Travis moved out here before we did to start training, staying in cheap (though they added up fast) motels and keeping his eye out for a place for all of us to live. I had to stay behind to let the boys finish school and until we could get our house rented. It was incredibly stressful, doing most of the packing on my own, trying to keep the house clean for showings while we were living in it with small children, keeping them out of the house when the landlady brought people by. When I was released from the hospital after Arlo's birth, I spent my first night at home with him alone, because it was a Sunday and Travis had to head back west. I never wanted to go through that again, but honestly, looking back, it was manageable. Arlo was an easy baby, Ryland was in school, Wilder had preschool two mornings a week, we lived walking distance to my mother's and within an easy driving distance of friends who would bring over dinner or their kids for play dates.
We finally moved out here, and planned to get ourselves out of debt and back on track. He was going to make good money with the railroad, and we were paying about half the amount in rent as we did with our old place. The duplex we live in out here is tiny, but it was just about the only thing available that would even remotely fit our family, and it was just enough space, no more and no less. But also no room to grow, and now that Willa is born and Ryland is out of school for the summer, and Arlo has joined the ranks of the mobile and the vocal, it's just not enough. Our little postage stamp of a yard feels positively claustrophobic now that the wasps are swarming and the mosquitoes are biting and the kids have more outdoor toys and bikes than ever. We usually end up out front where there's more room to move around, and then I get stressed out when Arlo makes a beeline for the alley or won't stop throwing his ball into the street. We don't have a driveway or a garage or even a shed in which to store our outdoor belongings. Our lawnmower is on its last leg. Even if we wanted to stay in North Platte, finding decent rentals is tricky, especially in a town where no one really utilizes the Internet like everywhere else in the free world. Seriously, everything is word-of-mouth or if you're lucky, Facebook. I think they must have just discovered Facebook pretty recently out here.
But back on the subject of huge life changes. We assumed the railroad would be it. We weren't careful about birth control because we weren't totally set against having another baby, and the railroad offers amazing benefits. But right at the same time we found out we were expecting Willa, we also got the news that Travis was another casualty of the railroad's massive layoffs. And we've been just barely keeping our heads above water since. We were both lucky to find pretty good jobs right away, but neither felt like the kind of jobs we wanted to make careers out of. We were also very fortunate that our schedules worked together perfectly. He only worked weekends and I was able to work the majority of my hours on the days he was home, and we just needed a babysitter to fill in on the one weekend a month I was required to pick up. We also had a little side business babysitting for our next door neighbors for several months, and in exchange, they were our once-a-month weekend sitters.
We were trying to tough it out until spring, because there were initially rumors that the railroad would be calling a lot of guys back around March or April. But then we would chat up the occasional local at work or out to dinner and learned that employees with over a decade of seniority had been laid off, and came to the grim realization that it could be years before he was called back, if ever. It was time to go back home. We decided to wait until after my maternity leave, since I had decided to get myself and the kids on my employer's health insurance.
Word of an opportunity reached our ears a couple of weeks ago, and the soonest he could get out there for an interview was last Tuesday afternoon. By the time I came home from work on Thursday afternoon, a glorious four-day weekend before me, he had received the news that they were offering him the position. We're putting in our 30 days notice at our tiny duplex that has been home for the past 13 months. I'll give two weeks notice when I go back into work on Tuesday, because he's heading out to Omaha before the rest of us once again and won't be here to watch the kids while I'm at work. He's staying with his parents while he looks for a place for us. I have a huge list of houses written out to compare their stats and find one with most of what we're looking for; four bedrooms, a garage, and hardwood floors would be ideal. Something roomy with good schools near by if we really want to get greedy. He'll come home to be with us on the weekends, and during the week I'll be, once again, a "single parent" for all intents and purposes. The three days a week he works now feel impossibly long, and we so look forward to him finally walking through the door at the end of those endless days. I don't even know how we're going to survive five days where he doesn't come home to us--well, alright, four days, technically. I guess if I'm being optimistic, it's only one more day than we're used to. And we've managed it before (although five kids feels like a hundred more than four). I'll be packing most of the boxes myself. Once again, we'll promise ourselves that this move will be different, more organized, that it will go more smoothly. That we won't have a sea of miscellaneous shit left haphazardly around the rooms as we're loading up the truck. That we won't have to make a million extra trips back like we did last time because we're such horrible procrastinators. I've been surveying the place, looking for things that we can live without for the next few weeks, trying to decide where to start packing first.
The past two years, particularly the first six months of this year, should have killed my optimism. Strangely though, they haven't. Last year got off to such a horrendous start that I thought for sure we would be rewarded with a great year in 2016. Unfortunately, this year started off worse than the last. Nothing has ever or will ever be as bad as losing my nephew. That is a nightmare we're still struggling to wake up from every single day. And it was a huge deciding factor in our rush to move back and be close to family again. Missing out on most of the first--and only--year of his life will haunt me until the end of time. It has also been extremely difficult being away from Ryland for the better part of an entire school year. On paper, it didn't seem like it would be so bad. Every month there was at least one long weekend for conferences or holidays, plus spring break and winter break, and we made frequent short trips out there throughout the year. But not being a part of his daily life and feeling so out of touch with things like his homework, even not being able to assign him chores around the house, it just felt like I wasn't really his mother. I never want to go through that again. The hardest part of it is that I thought we were doing it for the greater good. I thought we were making a sacrifice to get our family on the right track financially, to give our kids a better future. But we ultimately did it all for nothing, and now we're right back where we started. Or that's how it feels.
But enough of that. I'm elated that we're going back, but I'm cautious. I don't want to let myself think that this is it, that everything is going to be smooth sailing from here on out. I don't want to think that simply by going back, I will be happy forever. I'm pretty sure that I'll be happier than I've been out here, but I'm still me, and I still have my lows sometimes. It does feel, though, like we're getting a fresh start in the second half of this year. The first half was a miserable mess, but the second half might make up for it. And I'm going to let myself be excited about that.
Sunday, July 3, 2016
Sunday, February 14, 2016
2016
It's winter. Not even a terribly wintry winter. It barely snows. We're expecting mid to upper forties this week. This place can't even do the dead of winter right. But we started the year as hermits.
Burritos Are My Love Language
Valentine's Day is a silly holiday. I see people get so worked up over whether or not they have a special someone or a special something planned, and at the end of the day, it's just a day in February. But I love making the most of all of the silly little holidays for my kids. And I let myself feel a little down yesterday because I had nothing planned, and I wasn't really feeling "it." I didn't want to go out in the frigid cold to shop for this silly holiday. And then I felt worse for feeling anything about Valentine's Day.
I started the day with French toast, to get rid of the rest of a loaf of Texas toast, and the last of the five dozen eggs we bought to stock up. Then of course I made the discovery that we were all out of syrup. But the kids were the most excited about the plastic knives I gave them to cut up their French toast. And I realized that it doesn't take any big, fancy plans, only little gestures.
I inadvertently discovered that I dress up my kids and take pictures of them every year on Valentine's Day, so I had another simple little tradition that was easy enough to keep up with. I decided to make some quick, simple props for their pictures this year. I dug up previous year's photos, but I had a little issue with formatting, so they're just a big hot mess! I made sure to put them after the jump...
I started the day with French toast, to get rid of the rest of a loaf of Texas toast, and the last of the five dozen eggs we bought to stock up. Then of course I made the discovery that we were all out of syrup. But the kids were the most excited about the plastic knives I gave them to cut up their French toast. And I realized that it doesn't take any big, fancy plans, only little gestures.
I inadvertently discovered that I dress up my kids and take pictures of them every year on Valentine's Day, so I had another simple little tradition that was easy enough to keep up with. I decided to make some quick, simple props for their pictures this year. I dug up previous year's photos, but I had a little issue with formatting, so they're just a big hot mess! I made sure to put them after the jump...
Saturday, February 13, 2016
Let's Talk Potty Training
I have potty trained, like, two and three-quarters kids. By which I mean that the third kid is only most of the way there, not quite 100 percent. But she's close enough that we are down to only one in diapers and that feels like a victory. And while I wouldn't call myself an expert by any means, I've learned a lot of useful things along the way.
Monday, February 1, 2016
On Getting my Groove Back
There is an episode of House (don't worry, I'm the foremost authority on House--it's one of those shows that I've binge-watched through multiple times and never get tired of) where the girl's first symptom is loss of free will, or a loss of the ability to make even simple decisions. I tell you what, if the inability to make a decision is symptomatic of a life-threatening disease, I'm doomed. I've told Travis multiple times lately, sometimes half-joking, other times dead-freaking-seriously that he needs to be in charge of all my life decisions. Because I can't adult anymore.
I'm no stranger to depression and anxiety. They're old friends. But like, the kind of old friends that you really dread bumping into and wish you could just cut all ties with but you guiltily keep your association with them and just sort of hope that they stay gone and don't try to contact you. I've learned to deal. My methods in dealing often border on the ridiculous. But basically it starts with just riding the wave. I succumb to the feelings, to an extent. I need to let myself feel things, or not feel things since depression is mostly a dull numbness to everything. And then, at a certain point, I start to fight back. Shakily and tentatively at first, but I get there. I find my footing and I find what works. It's mostly a combination of forcing myself out of my comfort zone, giving up or cutting back on things that make me unhappy, and indulging in more of the things that give me joy. Sometimes that thing is spending most of the day in bed with Netflix and baby cuddles, but there hasn't been much room for that on my schedule lately.
Arguably the thing bringing me the most discontent and misery right now is work. And I've been trying to put my finger on exactly how it is I feel about it. I feel a sense of accomplishment (and immense pressure) in providing grown-up benefits for myself and my children. When I look at my pay stubs and see the breakdown and see the proof that I'm paying for medical, dental, vision, and accidental death coverage, well, it reminds me why I'm forcing myself through this. It feels good to hand over my insurance card, which I've had to do many times in less than a month of having health insurance. It's also fulfilling to be working in a hospital, providing one piece to the puzzle of finding out what's wrong with people and helping them get better. That part is also a little stressful, because if I screw something up, that could potentially be someone's life. I try not to think about that part. It also makes me feel good that my kids are proud and excited about what I do. They like visiting me at the hospital and asking all sorts of questions about "Mommy's work." But there is also so much animosity and drama, as there weirdly seems to be at every single job I've ever had. I was kind of hoping being almost thirty meant this shit would finally come to an end. But I originally set out to find a job because I was a little burned out on staying home with kids full time. Travis worked upwards of 70 hours a week at his old job, and then when he was first starting this one, he had to live four hours away from us for a few months until we were able to move out here with him. It was hard not to feel like a single parent, and hard not to feel like I needed a break from it once he was finally able to slow down and be home a lot more. And being in a new place, I wanted to meet people and get out of the house more. But really, this job hasn't helped much with that. I don't really want to share pieces of my life with these people. I barely want to work with some of these people. And a lot of it is the fact that I feel like I'm missing an opportunity. We don't know what it's going to be like when Travis goes back to the railroad, but we know there's a good chance we won't have the predictability that we do now. For once he's home more than he's at work, and we don't know how long it'll last. I don't like feeling like I'm wasting this opportunity doing nothing but working and catching up on sleep from working such bonkers hours.
We are really leaning heavy on the hope that the railroad will call him back to work soon. We literally have no idea what to expect from this year and it's equal parts exciting and terrifying. Right now, I'm just trying to make it through the winter. There are rumors that things with the railroad will pick back up in the spring. I'm trying not to rely too much on that rumor, but even if it doesn't happen, there's so much promise with the start of a new season. Especially spring.
I've had to talk myself out of quitting my job on at least a weekly basis. Travis almost had me talked into it one night but I felt guilty about leaving people in a lurch. And about not providing my part of the income. We've gotten pretty used to feeling comfortable and not struggling. I decided on a compromise for now, to cut back my hours. I'm technically considered a part-time employee, but I was being scheduled full-time because we're short-staffed (another thing that seems to happen at every single one of my jobs).
I'm no stranger to depression and anxiety. They're old friends. But like, the kind of old friends that you really dread bumping into and wish you could just cut all ties with but you guiltily keep your association with them and just sort of hope that they stay gone and don't try to contact you. I've learned to deal. My methods in dealing often border on the ridiculous. But basically it starts with just riding the wave. I succumb to the feelings, to an extent. I need to let myself feel things, or not feel things since depression is mostly a dull numbness to everything. And then, at a certain point, I start to fight back. Shakily and tentatively at first, but I get there. I find my footing and I find what works. It's mostly a combination of forcing myself out of my comfort zone, giving up or cutting back on things that make me unhappy, and indulging in more of the things that give me joy. Sometimes that thing is spending most of the day in bed with Netflix and baby cuddles, but there hasn't been much room for that on my schedule lately.
Arguably the thing bringing me the most discontent and misery right now is work. And I've been trying to put my finger on exactly how it is I feel about it. I feel a sense of accomplishment (and immense pressure) in providing grown-up benefits for myself and my children. When I look at my pay stubs and see the breakdown and see the proof that I'm paying for medical, dental, vision, and accidental death coverage, well, it reminds me why I'm forcing myself through this. It feels good to hand over my insurance card, which I've had to do many times in less than a month of having health insurance. It's also fulfilling to be working in a hospital, providing one piece to the puzzle of finding out what's wrong with people and helping them get better. That part is also a little stressful, because if I screw something up, that could potentially be someone's life. I try not to think about that part. It also makes me feel good that my kids are proud and excited about what I do. They like visiting me at the hospital and asking all sorts of questions about "Mommy's work." But there is also so much animosity and drama, as there weirdly seems to be at every single job I've ever had. I was kind of hoping being almost thirty meant this shit would finally come to an end. But I originally set out to find a job because I was a little burned out on staying home with kids full time. Travis worked upwards of 70 hours a week at his old job, and then when he was first starting this one, he had to live four hours away from us for a few months until we were able to move out here with him. It was hard not to feel like a single parent, and hard not to feel like I needed a break from it once he was finally able to slow down and be home a lot more. And being in a new place, I wanted to meet people and get out of the house more. But really, this job hasn't helped much with that. I don't really want to share pieces of my life with these people. I barely want to work with some of these people. And a lot of it is the fact that I feel like I'm missing an opportunity. We don't know what it's going to be like when Travis goes back to the railroad, but we know there's a good chance we won't have the predictability that we do now. For once he's home more than he's at work, and we don't know how long it'll last. I don't like feeling like I'm wasting this opportunity doing nothing but working and catching up on sleep from working such bonkers hours.
We are really leaning heavy on the hope that the railroad will call him back to work soon. We literally have no idea what to expect from this year and it's equal parts exciting and terrifying. Right now, I'm just trying to make it through the winter. There are rumors that things with the railroad will pick back up in the spring. I'm trying not to rely too much on that rumor, but even if it doesn't happen, there's so much promise with the start of a new season. Especially spring.
I've had to talk myself out of quitting my job on at least a weekly basis. Travis almost had me talked into it one night but I felt guilty about leaving people in a lurch. And about not providing my part of the income. We've gotten pretty used to feeling comfortable and not struggling. I decided on a compromise for now, to cut back my hours. I'm technically considered a part-time employee, but I was being scheduled full-time because we're short-staffed (another thing that seems to happen at every single one of my jobs).
Sunday, January 24, 2016
In which I get my groove back.
I've been having a hard time with this place, and feeling especially homesick for our old stomping grounds. If we could take the mild weather we've been having out west, and our schedules that allow us some weekdays together and apply them back home to some long, relaxed zoo trips, I would be the happiest girl in the world.
I've slipped into a little bit of a funk. I don't really like leaving the house except to work, and I've had to talk myself more than once out of quitting my job and becoming a full-time hermit. I'm no stranger to depression and anxiety, and I've sort of learned to deal with it.
First I have to let myself feel my feelings to an extent. I need to ride the wave without letting it pull me too far under. I think having so much help from Travis and so many distractions with work and the kids has helped. Sometimes I just want them all to go away for a while and let me fall into my slump.
After a while, I fight back. And I really have to force it. It involves a combination of cutting out or cutting back on things that make me unhappy, doing more of the things that bring me joy, and pushing myself a little out of my comfort zone. At times, it's just a matter of reminding myself what I've already made it through, and that I'm still here. If those things didn't wipe me out, I can suck it up and work that night shift or tackle that mountain of laundry.
Step one has been making drastic changes to my work schedule. I originally took the job out of desperation. Travis had been laid off and his first employment prospect wasn't very promising, and I needed to do what I could to keep us afloat. When he was offered a much better job than the one he originally interviewed for, I wanted my job as a way to get out of the house and bring in a little extra fun money. It didn't take long to bump me up to a position with more hours and benefits, which I was grateful for, but soon I was being over-scheduled and felt like my life had become nothing but working and sleeping. With Travis and me working opposite days and us nannying for the neighbor kids during the week, it felt like our family was getting almost no time together. Travis and I were getting even less. His old job in Omaha had him working upwards of 70 hours a week at times, and he missed out on so much. When he started at the railroad, he moved out west a few months before the rest of us and missed even more. I think I got tired of holding it together on my own and allowed myself to fall apart a little when I got here, and let him take over. When the railroad laid him off, he took a job that only required three 12-hour shifts on the weekends and gave him to us for most of the week. It's been great, but I can't help but feel like this might be the only time we have to just enjoy being together before the railroad calls him back to the road and we're thrown back into turmoil and uncertainty. So I've been tempted to quit my job. But then I see that little breakdown on my pay stubs that shows me what I'm working for. Health, vision, and dental for the kids and myself. And I know we won't really enjoy our time together if we're broke. So I just cut back.
Step two will be finding a way to enjoy where we are. I miss home, I miss it so fucking much lately, it almost hurts. But I can't keep dwelling on something I can't change right now. We're getting a membership to the rec center so we can work out and take the kids swimming, and just generally have somewhere to go to get us out of the house from time to time. There's a small children's museum we haven't checked out yet, and I want to get the kids in swim lessons. On Tuesday, I switched my early morning shift for an afternoon shift and I want to take Wilder to preschool and feel like I'm part of things again. Because it hasn't felt that way lately.
I still don't feel like I'm part of things with Ryland, and that's hard. We text, and we FaceTime. His teacher emails me to let me know how things are going. I try to communicate with his dad, and he's good about meeting up with me whenever there's a long weekend so Ry can be here. He was here for most of the holiday break, and I'm looking forward to having him here for spring break. But it still doesn't feel right. I don't feel like I'm his mother when I'm not the one getting him ready for school every day. And that's the number one reason I'm desperate to get back. One way or another, it will happen. I just have to try not to lose my mind in the meantime. For whatever reason, it feels like making it to summer is the answer. Summer, when school and other obstacles are out of the way, the lakes and parks open again, the sun shines between the magnificent summer storms. I'm ready for summer.
I've slipped into a little bit of a funk. I don't really like leaving the house except to work, and I've had to talk myself more than once out of quitting my job and becoming a full-time hermit. I'm no stranger to depression and anxiety, and I've sort of learned to deal with it.
First I have to let myself feel my feelings to an extent. I need to ride the wave without letting it pull me too far under. I think having so much help from Travis and so many distractions with work and the kids has helped. Sometimes I just want them all to go away for a while and let me fall into my slump.
After a while, I fight back. And I really have to force it. It involves a combination of cutting out or cutting back on things that make me unhappy, doing more of the things that bring me joy, and pushing myself a little out of my comfort zone. At times, it's just a matter of reminding myself what I've already made it through, and that I'm still here. If those things didn't wipe me out, I can suck it up and work that night shift or tackle that mountain of laundry.
Step one has been making drastic changes to my work schedule. I originally took the job out of desperation. Travis had been laid off and his first employment prospect wasn't very promising, and I needed to do what I could to keep us afloat. When he was offered a much better job than the one he originally interviewed for, I wanted my job as a way to get out of the house and bring in a little extra fun money. It didn't take long to bump me up to a position with more hours and benefits, which I was grateful for, but soon I was being over-scheduled and felt like my life had become nothing but working and sleeping. With Travis and me working opposite days and us nannying for the neighbor kids during the week, it felt like our family was getting almost no time together. Travis and I were getting even less. His old job in Omaha had him working upwards of 70 hours a week at times, and he missed out on so much. When he started at the railroad, he moved out west a few months before the rest of us and missed even more. I think I got tired of holding it together on my own and allowed myself to fall apart a little when I got here, and let him take over. When the railroad laid him off, he took a job that only required three 12-hour shifts on the weekends and gave him to us for most of the week. It's been great, but I can't help but feel like this might be the only time we have to just enjoy being together before the railroad calls him back to the road and we're thrown back into turmoil and uncertainty. So I've been tempted to quit my job. But then I see that little breakdown on my pay stubs that shows me what I'm working for. Health, vision, and dental for the kids and myself. And I know we won't really enjoy our time together if we're broke. So I just cut back.
Step two will be finding a way to enjoy where we are. I miss home, I miss it so fucking much lately, it almost hurts. But I can't keep dwelling on something I can't change right now. We're getting a membership to the rec center so we can work out and take the kids swimming, and just generally have somewhere to go to get us out of the house from time to time. There's a small children's museum we haven't checked out yet, and I want to get the kids in swim lessons. On Tuesday, I switched my early morning shift for an afternoon shift and I want to take Wilder to preschool and feel like I'm part of things again. Because it hasn't felt that way lately.
I still don't feel like I'm part of things with Ryland, and that's hard. We text, and we FaceTime. His teacher emails me to let me know how things are going. I try to communicate with his dad, and he's good about meeting up with me whenever there's a long weekend so Ry can be here. He was here for most of the holiday break, and I'm looking forward to having him here for spring break. But it still doesn't feel right. I don't feel like I'm his mother when I'm not the one getting him ready for school every day. And that's the number one reason I'm desperate to get back. One way or another, it will happen. I just have to try not to lose my mind in the meantime. For whatever reason, it feels like making it to summer is the answer. Summer, when school and other obstacles are out of the way, the lakes and parks open again, the sun shines between the magnificent summer storms. I'm ready for summer.
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