So I suck at Blogging. I was a crappy pen-friend, too.

Updates on this life...

Biggest is at Daycare 2 days a week and is LOVING it.

Littlest is trying solid foods, but it's a scary process because apparently he has food allergies, too. Still a boob monster which means he HATES being more than 2 minutes away from me. This is a difficult time for everyone who holds him who doesn't happen to be me.

The Grups are stressing about the upcoming house move. We have to compile a list of the people we need to contact to inform them of our upcoming change of address, organise switchovers of services, yadda yadda. And then there's the actual packing. The house is so full that there's nowhere for the packed boxes to actually go...

This is going to be a bit of a process in and of itself. We are trying to get rid of all the small baby things as we have pretty much decided for now that this is it for us. Two perfectly adorable little boys will do for the time being, and may just be all we create in terms of progeny. Come on, pregnancy hates me, the sleep deprivation is pure torture, and until Daddy learns to breastfeed the first year is kinda crappy for everyone but the baby (see statement about littlest, above). Getting rid of crap we don't need, that no longer fits, that is surplus to requirement.

Oh, and we will be getting a dishwasher. SCORE!

How does the Placebo Effect work, then?

I feel human.

For the first time in about 2 months, I actually feel real. For the first time in about 10 months I've gone a week without yelling in *whispers* rage. 

I have to say, I didn't realise how widespread the whole post-partum anxiety/rage thing was, until I read a blog post about it one night. The next day I made a doctor's appointment because seriously - it was at a kind of crisis point. I shared that post around Facebook on a number of closed and secret groups, and my oh my the responses it got... so many women identified with it. It was a surreal moment to realise that this... whateverthefuck I had wasn't actually just me and my old illness (whateverthefuck THAT is either, they've still not decided), it was a thing, you know, a recognised actual thing that people get, that people get through, and that people get over.

So anyway - I'm now on some pills. they're SSRIs and they're supposed to take anywhere from 6-8 weeks to kick in. But I'm actually doing ok on them after 1 week. I suddenly have my patience back. I've not shouted in anger. I'm a little less anxious. My husband has noticed a difference. My father has noticed a difference. I dare say even the kids have noticed a difference. I'm doing a little more and not berating myself for not doing as much as I think I ought to. Shit's getting done, bottom line.

But... 1 week... that's a bit soon. This whole PPD thing doesn't just resolve like a lanced boil overnight, either. So what gives? According to Dr Google (and articles like this), the Placebo Effect can still take place even if the patients are aware that the drug they are being given isn't a drug, but a fake. So in my case, I believe that there is a kind of Placebo Effect going on whereby I am feeling better and am able to function better almost immediately, even though the drugs themselves haven't had time to work on my serotonin reuptake rates.

Here's hoping they have kicked in by the time the Placebo Effect wears off.

Holiday, it would be so nice...

Holiday is booked for December and I've got my "leisure" time for this period all mapped out. Gonna try some arty stuff, and I have a jumper to finish off for a friend of mine. This jumper is taking longer than I thought, the needles are teeny tiny so it makes up super slow :/ That said, the last time I made a jumper for anyone it was my godson (I made it to age 2 size. He's halfway through Primary school and it still doesn't fit) and even that took months. I'm hoping the inconsistencies will give it an endearing feel... eek!

We will have fuller suitcases going out than coming back, as we are bringing presents for family and friends as well as luggage they had to leave behind because of weight restrictions on the plane. Capsule wardrobes for everyone!

I'm hoping that my eldest son's new fascination with numbers will do us well on the plane. Is 2 too young for SuDoKu? Littlest will hopefully sleep through most of it. It's bad that I can't remember how much sleep a 6 month old needs, isn't it.

0423

Apparently that is the new start to my day. It's the time when I wake up needing to pee, or wake up thirsty and needing to grab a drink. It's also the time littlest usually wakes for his through-the-night feed. Today, I managed to hold off the trip to the loo to get him fed. After he'd passed out I successfully (or so I thought) traipsed through to do whatever little girls do in the bathroom when they've had 2 kids and it can't wait til morning. Just. Sat. Down. and I hear the dulcet tones of my three and a half month old complaining because his squishy milk-scented hot water bottle isn't within reach.

Le sigh.

Took me half an hour of huggling and snuggling and wrapping him in his quilt downstairs to get him back off to sleep. He's snoring in his bouncer now, but I'm nowhere near that. No, I'm awake.

Planning phone calls (to HMRC), planning more phone calls (to the doctor's office), planning yet more phone calls (this time to KLM to see if we can pre-book specific seats for our flights in December yet)... Fixing a glitch on my website (it obviously isn't generating enough traffic - it was a doozy yet I found it myself rather than have anyone whisper the fault to me by email). I'm also going to be scheduling a ton of posts on Facebook and sharing the page and website some more to ensure a steady stream of income from the business. Then, I have me a bunny to finish main construction on and a snowman to start.

Having my hobby as my business is a good thing, it's helping keep me sane because it forces me to find the time to do stuff that isn't MOM stuff. It forces me to do things for... ME. If I hadn't gone all registered and stuff, I wouldn't feel compelled to do that, and my life would be all about the kids and the house and the cooking and the laundry, 5 minutes here and there for smoochies with my husband (if he's lucky) and the rest of the time spent on Facebook on my phone whining to my friends about how I don't seem to have my own identity any more. This way I get enforced time for me, which is what my shrink prescribed earlier in the year anyway. Sadly, it doesn't help with containing the shouty lady who lets rip when small people do things that come naturally to small people but which big people find annoying and/or stress-inducing. That, I have to wait for a referral to fix (hence one of my phone calls to make later today).

Ciao for now.