Mogo in Captivity October 30, 2007

The fires are still burning but much farther away now and containment is in sight for those fighting the flames. They say they expect it to be fully contained by November 5^th. Now, there seems to be a greater sense of calm in San Diego. Folks are back in their homes and school is back in session because the air quality is much better. There is still the faint stench of burning wood especially in the areas hit hardest by the fires. Ash still blankets the streets, and cars of areas not even touched by the flames. We are so fortunate and we are grateful that we were in one of those safe areas, that all in our family are safe, and their homes are all in tact. Our thoughts and prayers go out to those who are going through so much loss.

They closed the schools in San Diego County last week and finally they opened back up today. There were instructions to keep children indoors until the air quality improved. For 3 days we stayed in our little apartment and we watched the coverage and tried desperately to keep Mogo entertained. 3 adults and a 5 year old (Uncle Ricky was staying with us since he had been evacuated) in such a tiny space. You can only dress and undress the same baby dolls so many times before you are ready to chuck them across the room at one of the other adults. Coloring lost its appeal after the first hour and we were unable to revisit that activity the rest of the week. I could not bear to break out the paints when our apartment has brand new carpet with not a stain to speak of… yet. The remainder of the week she spent with her Papa who is old and not very adventurous. He tends to fall asleep on her but he spoils her rotten and I am sure he let her play computer games the entire time. She loves Noggin.com. To Papa there is no such thing as too much computer time and there is no such thing as too many cookies either so I am told by Mogo. I am sure she was in heaven. However, this little Virgo of mine does best when she has a bit of routine. She needs rules and structure to her day. Without it, she seems lost and a little manic (that is a nice way to say she bounces off the freakin walls). Being cooped up in the house for 7 days has meant too much TV and computer time and not enough sunshine and exercise.

Thank you to my Uncle Jerry and his Wife for buying Mogo one of these for Christmas last year.

This Barrel-O-Fun is complete with 50 different colors of the messy dough and a multitude of accessories. I considered it the equivalent to buying her a drum set or worse a beading kit but now, I take back all the nasty things I said about him because Play-Doh has been our life line.

I hate the idea of Play-Doh with a passion usually reserved for Bush/Cheney bumper stickers. What with the little specks of it in every color that end up in each nook and cranny of the apartment. I also have Play-Doh rules. It drives me bat shit when the colors mix. It always has even when I was little. Mogo certainly doesn’t care if the purple mixes with the green but it un-nerves me to no end. This huge ball of anxiety creeps in to the pit of my stomach when she plays with more than one color at a time. I also require the use of a big plastic table cloth and I am forever trying to keep the Play-Doh mess contained to the table top. I am not what you would call a neat freak so I have no idea what my deal is with the Play-Doh centric OCD. Mogo tolerates my freakiness and rolls her eyes as I get on my hands and knees under her collecting the little balls of dough. I must say though that it really was the only thing that occupied her for over an hour at a time during this fire debacle. Mogo was a Play-Doh playing fool. She pretended she was a chef making play dough concoctions for us to try and to buy. She was a little capitalist, selling her play dough confections to us for $10.00 each. Sheesh – I am broke in real life & pretend.

Anyways, we escaped our captivity unscathed and now we are back to the same old grind and I am relieved. I can’t wait to hear about her first day back. She has missed her friends and playing on the playground so much and if I never see another can of Play-Doh again it will be too soon.

Burning Down the House… October 22, 2007

San Diego, CA is on fire.

My family all seem to be safe & sound. Some have been more inconvenienced than others but all the homesteads seem to be in tact and every one is accounted for. We are lucky indeed. Currently my little familial unit is waiting to see if we will have to evacuate. There is some confusion on that point.

I certainly don’t care what it is that you believe in but please if you believe in something just say a prayer, light a candle, wiggle your nose, or whatever you do to ask the powers that be for mercy, for peace, and maybe even a little rain or at least some humidity. There are a whole lot of folks who have lost everything and they could use all the good thoughts and prayers they can get.

-Mogo’s Mom (who is freaking out a bit)

My Favorite Princess is Mogo October 19, 2007

Mogo’s favorite princess is Cinderella but Mom (that would be me) forgot to hem the skirt of her Cinderella Costume in time for this Costume Birthday Party. She was a little bent out of shape that she had to settle for a Snow White costume instead but she is awfully cute and she got over it rather quickly once she go into the party mood.

Happy Birthday to cousin Audrey who is also 5 years old. Where the hell does the time go anyways?

Photo by Angela

Who the hell am I anyways? October 19, 2007

I will apologize in advance for this angsty rambling post. Mostly, I am confused. I am not confused about any one thing. I am trying to figure out where I fit in the world and I have a few things stuck in my brain that just keep pestering me. The only way I know to get them to back off is to type them out. This sort of mind masturbation is exactly what journaling is about for me. It may seem narcissistic but hey, it is my mind to masturbate.  

10/15/07 – Infectious Smiles October 16, 2007

Since the onset of Kindergarten, mornings have been pretty rough at our house. Mornings have never been a picnic but our little blond alarm clock would wake up on her own and start her day without too much fuss whereas the grown ups are all fairly grumpy in the morning. Old Man & I barely say a word to each other as we pass each other on the way to the bathroom. We grunt the answers to questions that pertain to the coming day. We avoid conversation as much as possible until the girl is at school and we are on our way down the freeway. Then it is safe to engage in conversation beyond “Did you pack her lunch?” and “Do you have any cash?” It is just better that way for everyone involved.  

Our Mogo on the other hand, has always been a morning person. She was the kind that wakes up at 6:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning and announces “It’s time to watch kid shows.” She would awaken, singing some sweet tune in the bathroom and helping herself to yogurt while she waits for you to get the hell out of bed; all that has changed since Kindergarten. Now, it is “Mom just 5 more minutes to sleep.” and “NO – I don’t care that it is raining, I want to wear shorts and a tank top” and “NO – I DOOOO IT!” It seemed we had lost our morning sunshine. She has been waking up just as grumpy as the rest of us only she isn’t just grumpy but downright nasty to be around. She is a temper tantrum waiting to happen.

It seems that as our little Miss gets used to mornings at a new place and a new school, the cloud is beginning to lift. Mogo woke up this morning fresh and sweet and ready to start her day. She woke up, sat on my lap like a monkey and gave me the world’s sweetest cuddle – the likes of which I have not had since she decided she was 5 and too big for such things. She fit there in my lap like a glove and she was toasty warm from being under her covers, her hair all mussed and soft, smelling of blueberry shampoo. It was heaven. After that bit of sweetness, she got her clothes on with no fussing, and ate breakfast. She took her vitamin and brushed her teeth and did all the things she is responsible for in the mornings. This morning though? She did it with a smile on her face. I love it when my day can start that way.

Her smile is infectious and I caught it.

Patterns of Depression October 10, 2007

Just like about 75% of the population (yes, I am pulling that statistic out of my ass), I take medication for depression. Specifically I take Prozac. I have had to take medication on and off since I was a teenager. I am not sure I have ever received a specific diagnosis other than “depression” but I have always had a bit of a dark cloud over my head. My Old Man calls me Eeyore on occasion when my cloud gets particularly bothersome. Since the onset of my Post Partum after having my daughter, the intensity of my depression has increased and the death of our son has multiplied that by 3. A steady dose of an SSRI seems to keep the cloud at bay – for the most part. At least the cloud seems to get smaller when I take my meds and I notice that the cloud isn’t only raining on me. I laugh more, I enjoy my girl a lot more, I am happier with my Old Man and I have a lot more tolerance in general.

All that said my depression seems to be cyclical. I notice the cycles even when I am taking my meds. I don’t know if these cycles are attributed to hormones or what but they are there. During those times, I am more apt to binge on chocolate (or cheese, or well, food), I smoke more cigarettes than usual, and I have been known to tie one on real good, and my face breaks out more. On the contrary, I am less apt to take care of myself, eat regularly, do my laundry, take my meds on time, you know basic stuff. My girl gets what she “needs” but I take care of it all with a bit more attitude and a lot more frustration and I am probably not very pleasant to be around. Apparently this is all magnified quite a bit when I am not taking my meds and if you ask me, I will tell you that all is well. I will tell you a lot and I will tell you with verve that I am just FINE! Really, I feel no different without my meds and I barely notice my dear husband gnashing his teeth as I leave a room.

So here is the current equation:

Me (a typical downward spiral) + need for prescription refill = Bad.

Well that is what happened. I ran out of my Prozac and rather than making time to go fill the script, I dilly-dallied (yes, that is a technical term) and here it is 2 months later and I have not taken my meds in quite some time. I have not really mentioned this to anyone except my Old Man (who BTW is sort of peeved with me about it). I think this is a pattern for me. I stay on my meds long enough to see a major difference and then on one of my down cycles I just stop taking it. Of course over time I hop back on the Prozac bandwagon (usually at the urging of someone who loves me) and I am genuinely surprised to realize that I have been a complete pain in the ass while I was not on my meds.

I don’t know what part of my psyche is making it so damned difficult to take my meds consistently. I don’t have any major opposition to taking psychotropic drugs – per say. Most everyone I know is on some sort of medication. It does kind of piss me off that I have to though. So when I run out I tend to plain old forget/procrastinate/blow it off. It is pretty easy to postpone the tasks that piss me off. Some would say that I am just plain old lazy and/or irresponsible (and who could blame them). Those things may be true but I wonder if it goes deeper than that. I stopped the majority of my self-sabotaging behavior (with the exception of smoking) a long time ago but I still have this basic problem with self-discipline. I am just not sure where to get some. I seem to be unable to deal with day to day tasks that others find so easy. Is this a character defect? Is self-discipline a learned skill or is it genetic? Do I have some other form of mental illness beyond “Depression?” (Note to the Internet: that was not exactly an invitation to weigh in)

I did however fill my prescription yesterday (and set up my prescription for mail ordering to boot). So I guess I am back on the road to rosy colored glasses. I am feeling sort of indignant about it all though and at the same time, I am embarrassed that I let it happen again.