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.
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).
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