Coming to a Nursery Near You

Archive for the ‘depression’ Category

my readers.  Those that have come and those that have gone over the last 3+ years – those that have left comments and those that haven’t – those that have emailed me and those that haven’t. 

I wrote a blog post on BlogHer.com asking for opinions on changing my blog name – because Coming to a Nursery Near You just doesn’t seem to make sense here anymore.  That baby came, and although never physcially had a nursery, certainly doesn’t have one anymore.  He’s going to be THREE next month! 

My blog has evolved from being a pregnancy blog to a new mom blog, talking about gestational diabetes and night sweats to breastfeeding, co-sleeping and fifty million diaper changes.  From there, we went to the depression. Oh the depression.  The depression that’s followed me to this day – and has certainly formed it’s own identity on this blog – has taken hold of me and my writing.  Perhaps it’s the depression and the depressive writing that’s driven off all but a very very few commenters, I don’t know.

I do know that the focus of my blog has changed, and I’ve pretty much decided to change the name of my blog.

So I come to you, those quiet, stealthy readers, to ask your thoughts on a new blog name.

This will require you to hit that little button that says “comment”

Please? 

PRETTY PLEASE? 

Yes – one single resolution.  Here it is…

– are you ready?

My New Year’s resolution for 2010:  Try not to suck as much as a mom in 2010.

How’s that?

Not too demanding, not too difficult to understand.

Try, being the operative word.

See, try as I might to be Donna Reed and Carol Brady all wrapped up in one cute little package, I do not, in face, succeed at either. I never have been, but of course, the pressure to be such always has been there.

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That’s never been one of my strong suits.  However, as a mom, I know I need to do it in order to keep food on the table and the lights on.  So after Jimmy was let go, I went to the Department of Health & Human Services and applied for help.  Help in the form of cash assistance, food stamps, medical assistance.  Any kind of assistance.  I’ve decided to write about it here because I’m so tired of the stigma that goes along with it.   I was near tears writing out the application.  I was in tears while being interviewed.  Not because of anything the interviewer said, but because of my own humiliation – of being 41 years old and having to ask for help – again.

“That’s what it’s there for” – that’s a term I hear over and over again.  Thankfully, they’re right – it IS there for us this time.  We were accepted into all of the programs, and now I have medical coverage that won’t put us further into debt.  I have my medications for my stomach, my joints AND my head.  I have money for food.  I’ll even have some money to pay bills.  It’s not a huge amount, but it’ll keep the lights on.  We haven’t heard from unemployment yet.

Did you know that there’s a lifetime cap on the length of time you can receive cash assistance?  It’s 5 years.  Not only that, but it’s for all the adults in the house.  So both Jimmy & I have that 5 years together, not 5 each.  We’ve rec’d cash assistance once before, for 1 month.  So we’re back to that ticking clock.  When you think about it, though – we have another 20+ years before we’re considered for social security – so using that lifetime cap now is scary.  However, yeah – that’s what it’s there for.

In order for us to qualify for cash assistance, we are required to attend employment training.  Typically, we would both be required to do this, for a combined 55 hours a week.  I’ve applied to be exempted from this because of my health issues.  While that’s processing, Jimmy’s doing 35 hours a week.  That’s 35 hours that he’s at this place, where he has to take tests (math, IQ, geography, etc.), learn how to write a resume, etc.  It leaves him with NO TIME TO FIND A JOB!  It’s ridiculous.  Next week, they’ve told him he will be required to volunteer somewhere for 35 hrs a week, until he finds a job. 

The whole process has him (once again) SO miserable. He’s 44 years old.  He doesn’t need assessment tests to tell him what he wants to be when he grows up.  But he’s doing it so that we can get through Christmas.   Once we get to the New Year, I’ll get the taxes submitted and we’ll at least be able to drop the cash assistance and not have to do what is required.  Maybe then he’ll actually FIND a job.

This is one of the reasons why I’ve been so quiet.  Another reason is not knowing how we’re going to get through Christmas this year.  So hopefully now things will calm a bit in my head.

I just wish it were January already.

November was not a very good month for us. Between Jimmy losing his job and me losing my mind, things have been in such an upheaval, it’s not funny.  As of today, we are without medical benefits as well.  Fun times.

Our Thanksgiving was ok.  Pretty low-key, actually.  I took the advice of someone, somewhere, and didn’t go crazy over details this year.  That means we didn’t eat on the good dishes.  While nothing came out of a can, I didn’t go crazy trying to find some new & exciting recipes. Our dinner came out very good anyway.  I didn’t set a beautiful holiday table, mostly because no one else seemed to care that I’d only slept 3 hours and had been on my feet all day.  It’s just expected.  Somehow, I doubt they even noticed anything amiss. 

The dinner itself consisted of homemade mashed potatoes, baked mashed sweet potatoes, homemade cranberries, gingered cranberry stuffing, our tradition sausage stuffing, homemade rolls, baby carrots, and of course, the turkey.  Everything came out very good, except for the epic FAIL on the WalMart thermometer I used to check the turkey temp when I first took it out.  It read that it was fine – so I set the turkey aside and worked on everything else.  When I finally went to cut the turkey, hours later – it wasn’t cooked all the way.  So it had to go back into the oven (I finally used the electric roaster Jimmy bought me for Christmas last year), and we wound up eating an hour late. 

Black Friday rolled around and I was at Walmart at 5am, along with half the known world.  I picked up some things for the kids mostly.  So scared of spending money, not knowing when any more will be coming in.  We’ve applied for aid, but you never know if that’ll happen. 

I’m worried about my mother.  She was diagnosed with COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease) early this year and it seems to really be hitting her hard right now. She tells me how she longs for a cigarette so badly, despite being smoke-free for nearly 2 years.  She seems to think she’d feel better if she could smoke.  She has been a medical transcriptionist for 40 years. I KNOW she knows that’s not true. I KNOW she knows what happens to smokers with COPD.  But I understand her frustration, too.  More than I’d like to admit, I suppose.

I have been sleeping so much, and yet so tired.  I haven’t seen my therapist in a few weeks, and now without insurance, I don’t know how that’ll happen.  She’s offered to see me at a reduced fee, but right now, every dime counts. 

Jimmy designed a logo for someone I met through Twitter, and it was really nice to get this email:

Great job, you guys were awesome to work with. I can’t tell you how many graphic designers I told what I wanted, and then never heard from again.
You hit the nail right on the head as to what I was looking for. I will recommend you to anyone who needs a logo.  Jess, Momelettes.com

So that was good.  It’s always good to see that someone appreciates what you do.  I can’t wait to see it on the final redesign. (The one that’s on there now isn’t ours.)

I haven’t been around to my favorite blogs in ages. I do try to keep up but ya know, you all just keep writing!  I do want to congratulate my wonderful friend Stacey on her upcoming GRANDMA status

Finally, check out this shot I got Saturday morning. I’d just gone down to get my coffee. I looked out the window and it looked like the mountains were on fire.  I literally ran up the stairs with my camera and hopped up on my only perch that allows me to get photos above the other apartments across the lot. LOL  It was a gorgeous sunrise!

to have the same surge of emotions to go along with the aches and pains, that I had after I had A BABY.  How is this possible? I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster since I came home. Actually, before that really. Because Jimmy’s so completely emotionally withdrawn from me, I feel like I’m all alone again. And it sucks.  My breasts still are full and ache for my baby – I’m so close to just giving in and nursing him.  God knows, I won’t be getting that MRI done for a while anyway.  But he’s not an infant anymore. He wont’ just lay there and nurse.  He kicks, he crawls away – he’s a very active, nosey toddler.  I can’t even hold him for more than a few minutes at a time (no mom, I’m not holding the baby).  And what if I wind up back in the hospital – I’d have to take it away from him again. 

As anyone who follows my twitters know, I was off to see the surgeon again today because I’m been able to see the outline of the patch they used in my belly, and I’ve been running a fever, and … and … and… there’s always an AND, isn’t there.  Nothing is ever simple with me.  I can’t tell you how SICK I am of being overly emotional, and who do I manage to take it out on? Jimmy, of course (I can see my mother rolling her eyes from 201 miles away) but it’s true.  I don’t know how the argument started yesterday or how we got onto the HOT TOPIC that has always been us moving away from New England – but it got down and it got dirty – with me accusing him of waiting until I was an emotional and physical wreck before trying his arguments form moving just because I’m so beaten and defeated.  I know it’s not really true  -but it FELT true yesterday.  I’m so tired of fighting with him.  I KNOW he hurts, I KNOW his arm is killing him – but what am I supposed to do besides try to encourage him to get it taken care of? 

Well, the surgeon put me on keflex, an antibiotic and sent me for blood work.  They needed 3 tries to get a viable vein.   I have to go back on Friday.  I’m exhausted, I can cry at the drop of a hat, my belly hurts, my back hurts more.  And I know, I KNOW my mom would give anything she could to be back up here helping out – but she cannot afford to give up 2 jobs to do it.  She simply CANNOT.  She fought me tooth & nail to accept a check to cover what she missed for the 2 days she did come up here.  (She’s obnoxious that way).  I have to figure out a way to do this with just us.  I just don’t know how right now.