Mondays are pretty difficult for our family right now. The weekends go waaaaaaaaaayyy too quickly, and inevitably, I only get about 5% done of what I had planned to get done, we spend the whole weekend rushing around doing errands and taking care of Ande's inevitable temper tantrums, and by the time 8 a.m. comes around Monday morning, I realize that I didn't actually get to spend any quality time with my family because I was so busy.
Yesterday I got to go hang around with Georgia and her two kiddos, who are just slightly older than Ande and Kyle, so that was really great. I think honestly, I worried Georgia just a tad with my little outburst on Sunday. I am so incredibly grateful though to have a friend to watch out after me, because honestly, I'm pretty terrible at taking care of myself and learning how and when I need a break in life.
Today is kind of a downer. I have another appointment set up with LDS Family Services, which while it will probably be helpful, I always dread having to feel forced into talking about my emotions with someone. I realize that this is probably exactly what I need right now, but sometimes I feel a little resentful about it. Inevitably, I feel like they focus on some part of my history which I really don't want to talk about, not because I'm uncomfortable so much as that I usually don't feel like it's relevant.
But then, I'm not the trained therapist, so what do I know. Anywho, I always kind of freak out about it. I try and pre-talk myself through imagined conversations with my therapist, trying to kind of prepare myself, and then, of course, it never goes the way that I plan. I guess I should be familiar with that fact by now, but I am an absolutely obsessive planner-outter; I'm convinced that there's a genetic marker for it somewhere. It probably shares an allele with the need to color-coordinate.
I also found out today that I'm not pregnant. And while Hubby and I weren't really trying, it's still a little depressing. It's a relief though too in a way. I know that I need to try for another baby, and that Heavenly Father has another "special spirit" ready to join our home, it's part of my Patriarchal Blessing. I just hope that this spirit isn't quite as special as Carrick is.
I know that I'm afraid, and that it's normal to be afraid, but I feel really silly about it all the same. HF has all but specifically told me that this next baby will be healthy and fine, and I'm still dragging my feet and throwing rocks in the mud, puttering around. For a while, I even was telling myself that if I didn't lose the baby weight from Carrick, then I wouldn't have to get pregnant again! Wow, huh?!? That's the kind of interesting stuff your brain can do to you I suppose. Talk about self-defeating behaviors. It still had me in tears this morning though.
I'm at this funny crossroads where I can't decide if it would be really wonderful to have a break from being pregnant for a while, get healthy, get off of my anti-depressants (as terribly fun as those are --part of me is still terrified that they might have been what hurt Carrick in the first place, even though I rationally know that's not the case, it still terrifies me), get back into shape (those extra 25lbs. are pretty painful right about now, especially with no baby to show for it), and emotionally get back into a place where I can at least pretend to be able to take care of myself and my children.
I imagine myself taking the kids out for hour-long bike rides every morning, and us laughing and joking, and generally having a wonderful time. I imagine Ande growing and blossoming, and really feeling comfortable and at peace here. I imagine Kyle coming out of his shell and finally being able to take his own place in the sun. But first, I suppose, it would be really helpful if there were any sun out here. It *really* doesn't help that the house we ended up renting has NO natural light. It's damp, dark, and the inside is fake dark wood paneling. We're grateful to have someplace big enough for our family, but between not being able to run practically all of the time like we could in Colorado, and then not having any light inside, I'm going a little stir-crazy, and it's definitely NOT helping my depression. I have to have all of the lights on indoors even when it's sunny out, just so that I can see enough to fold the laundry. I'm being a total whiner, I know. And it's not that I'm not grateful, I'm just kind of sitting in a corner right now pouting and going "Really HF, you couldn't give us just this one, tiny break?"
Today I get to go pick up Carrick's charm though from the engraver's, and I'm a tiny bit nervous about it. When we buried Carrick out here, the funeral home took Carrick's hand print and had it made into a charm for us. My Mother's Day present this year is a charm bracelet to put it on, and I had his name and birthday engraved on the back. I've been hugely nervous about it though, because the engraver called three separate times to check the spelling, even though I went over it with him twice in the store, and it's typed out on a sticker (compliments of the funeral home) on the back of the box. I am honestly bracing myself for how I'm going to handle it if they really did mess it up. I don't know quite how I'll do. Knowing me though, I'll probably say something along the lines of, "Oh no, that's fine. I'm sure it was all my fault. Thanks anyway." And then I'll go to my car and quietly bawl my eyes out and say some not so choice things in no one's general direction, but mostly be hugely disappointed at myself and the world. I did find out yesterday from Georgia though, that Julie, who runs a really cool kind of co-op music time at the ward building on Wednesdays for kiddos, owns a jewelry store with her husband. I am super psyched, because I still need someone who can solder metal, and I would feel *much* more comfortable having someone that I know would appreciate the emotional value of what I'm bringing them than some random person in a store somewhere that I'm never going to probably see again in my life. Julie is an *incredibly* sweet woman, and I can't but imagine that her husband is probably the same way, so that makes me feel infinitely more comfortable with getting the bracelet finished. I picked up two little charms to go on the bracelet next to Carrick's charm, but I'm not really sure if I should. I found a cute little teddy bear (which I imagined being for Carrick), and a set of wedding bells (from our sealing). I'm a little afraid that the two extra charms might detract from Carrick's though, and I'm not sure if that's right. I feel like it might be betraying his memory a little, even though both of the other charms are kind of about him (which is why I got them at all in the first place). We'll see. I'll probably get myself to the point where I don't feel quite so guilty about it, but I keep finding random little places in life where my head gets stuck.
Last Friday we went to Art Walk in Issaquah (which I highly recommend if you're into local artist displays, even though it's not really kid-friendly for the most part). In any case, there was a really great local artisan there who had a really fun grasshopper sculpture that he had created. I saw that, and I about lost it. It reminded me of the cute little "bed bug" jammies that Carrick had died in, and how completely awful I still feel for having the funeral home throw them away (even though they were apparently rags after the autopsy). I feel a little like I threw away part of Carrick. I have yet to forgive myself for throwing away those stupid pajamas, and so, to me, they mean the absolute world. I saw that grasshopper statue, and I wanted it so, so, so incredibly badly. There was absolutely no way though. Our budget is *incredibly* tight. Anywho, long story short, there was no way that I was dropping $40 of grocery money on a statue to commemorate my son and try and mitigate my grief and guilt (or at least that's what I told myself). So anyway, I got myself pretty much okay with it, walked away, and then saw the same statue at a booth at the Issaquah Farmer's Market on Saturday morning. It was ridiculous. I am still sitting here halway plotting a way to try and get this little statue.
In my defense though, it's an incredibly cute little guy. According to the artist's website, his name is Lester. I thought the little t-rex would be super cute for Kyle too, so maybe as summer goes on, I'll try to find a way to sneak it into the budget without beating myself up too much over it.
In any case, I absolutely, positively swear that I will get my laptop fixed and start pulling out some of my super-hot designer moves on this blog so that it's not quite so... well, blech, for lack of a better, or more appetizing, word.