So this was me, yesterday morning:

Swistle: “It’s been getting kind of heavy and grim around here, what with all the mother-in-law talk, and all the teary rage and diets and exercise and psychiatric medication. Let’s do something lighter! How about posting one of the Asking Swistle For Advice emails I’ve been meaning to post? We can all work together, sharing ideas and helping each other out as fawns romp in the grass nearby and the little birdies sing sweetly in the trees!”

And so I posted a question asking for good ways to fit children’s baths into the routine. I had expected the comments to be a combination of tips and experience, maybe some funny stories about grubby kids.

I’d thought there might be a little fuffle about the fact that Shelly works and her husband stays at home with the kids: I thought we might get some people saying that her husband should be handling it, and some people saying that in their household the working parent does baths as a way to carve out time with the kids.

I had not expected that we were going to get the comments that were more along the lines of DO IT MY WAY OR YOU SUCK AS A PARENT! Had you? I was completely surprised! I thought I knew the “hill to die on” issues, and I didn’t think baths were one of them. And the personal attacks! People saying that other people’s children smelled bad or were germy! Yeek!

Result of Swistle’s attempt to take it down a notch? Now we all have another thing to add to our list of things to be scared other mothers are judging us about! Swistle: Keeping the Conflict Alive!

Also: Keeping Ear Hats Alive:

I’m up at 4:00 a.m., which is SO SMART. Elizabeth woke me, and then I couldn’t go back to sleep. I tried for more than half an hour, and I just got more and more wakeful. I’m thinking about stuff.

I’m thinking about my weight, which went down 5 pounds right after I stopped taking the mini-pill, but then stayed where it was. And then started creeping up little by little again. I’m getting that “this isn’t my body” feeling–like I’m ENCASED in my body. That’s usually my cue to take action.

And I’m thinking about diets, which are stupid and only work short-term. And about “lifestyle changes,” which are also diets. And about how there should probably be an actual lifestyle change around here, NOT (*maudlin tone*) “so I can live to see my kids grow up” (it’s relatively uncommon to die in one’s thirties for being overweight) but because my food intake has gotten pretty crappy and it’s causing me to envision the kind of clogged pipes they show on plumbing and cholesterol-reduction commercials. BUT MOSTLY BECAUSE I WANT TO BE THINNER AND LOOK PRETTIER. I don’t really care about my health here, though of course that will help to motivate me when I am frantically scraping to remember why I am not eating something I want to eat. If I were eating crap but I were still THIN, we would not be having this talk right now. Possibly we are not having this talk anyway. Possibly when morning light hits, I will think this is a dumb idea. It’s so easy to strike out on a new diet when I’m not feeling hungry.

And I’m thinking about Zoloft, which I’m on the fence about: on one hand, I feel like I Need Something. On the other hand, breastfeeding! and the accompanying worrying about future scientific studies that will make me regret current decisions! And also, I’m not sure I want to start taking a longer-term medication for what I think may be a short-term issue centering on my mother-in-law’s upcoming visit.

And I’m thinking about exercise, which is disappointing me results-wise. My heart and lungs might be getting all awesome and fit, but I’m not noticing exterior improvements. I want EXTERIOR IMPROVEMENTS. I have exercised faithfully three times a week for two months, and I haven’t had a single less-than-three-times week: I sometimes whine about skipping a session because I’m too mad/sad, but I always make up the session the next day. And yet all I am doing is getting bigger.

So that’s me, at what is now 5:00 in the morning: Weight. Diets. Zoloft. Exercise. Hm, I wonder why I’m not dropping off into dreamyland? My theory is that I’m self-medicating my mother-in-law/new-baby stress with food (how FASCINATING and DIFFERENT), and that I’m doing it too much for the exercise to keep up. I think the food HAS been helping, but since it’s also hurting, it’s time to try something else.

I’m about to launch into a discussion about the “something else” I’m doing, and it’s something I don’t recommend. I have an old bottle of Zoloft in my underwear drawer, and I’m going to start taking it. I think this is a TERRIBLE idea! You should ALWAYS have medical supervision for medication. ESPECIALLY if you’re pregnant or breastfeeding and the bottle has a sticker on it that says “Do not take if pregnant or breastfeeding.” And especially with PSYCHIATRIC medication, where the effects on your health and mental states should be monitored so you don’t flip the hell out. And if the medication is also EXPIRED, you are a CRAZY PERSON if you take it.

BUT. I’ve taken this before. If anything, it had too LITTLE an effect on me, and it didn’t affect my health. And right now, my plan is to take it until my mother-in-law’s visit is over, and then stop. I thought I was coping pretty well with life in general; then we got close to her visit and I started melting down.

The bottle contains 100 mg tablets. I remember that when I went on it before, the doctor started me at 25 mg for a week, and then went to 50 mg. So last night I bit off one-half of a half tablet. I’m going to do that for four days and then go up to 50 mg. I have enough to last me until the end of October, when I will carefully go back down to 25 mg daily, then 25 mg every other day, then 25 mg every third day–because going off Zoloft last time made life temporarily lose its color, and it helps to KNOW that that will happen, but it also helps to wean slowly.

Maybe I will chicken out in the next day or two. Maybe I will call the doctor after all, and spend a $20 co-pay for him to try to talk me into counseling. We’ll see. I mean, if YOU said YOU were going to do this, I’d be all up in your comments section saying, “Oh, hey, I don’t know about this. I think it would be better to call the doctor. I mean, that Zoloft is older than the twins–it might not even WORK.”

Also, I am going to eat a little better. I don’t even want to say words like “diet,” because my brain hears “diet” and my brain says “HUNGRY.” But I want to be thinner, and dieting is the way to do it.

If that doesn’t suck the happy out of the room, I don’t know what does.

Edited to add: I should have said specifically that I welcome your input and insight. I know how it is to be reading a post thinking, “Is she just venting here and my advice would get called ‘assvice’ and be all irritating? or is she looking for feedback?” You may proceed with feedback! Personal experience, insight from a distance, whatever.

If you missed yesterday’s baby ear suits, you might still be able to get one: they’re back in some colors and sizes (and they go in and out, so maybe keep checking if you don’t see what you want) at L.L. Bean, and you can still use that free shipping code (7420440). They’re $12.95 now instead of $9.00, but it’s better than bitter, bitter disappointment.

The Virtual Avon Party went great! LeAnna’s so grateful and excited. And so am I: you guys were awesome to do that for her. I think the specials/promotions change every two weeks, so I’m going to keep checking http://leannawilson.avonrepresentative.com/ (notice they’ve added the A to her name finally, if you’ve bookmarked the one without the A), and of course I hope you’ll keep checking it, too, but probably I will not mention it real often because geez, how many times can I mention Avon before you get bored and wander off? But I might not be able to resist telling you if I bought some neat stuff, because it is fun to talk about shopping, and also because it was SO ENORMOUSLY FUN to have you emailing me saying, “I bought this! I bought that! I bought a bunch more things too!”

Kara‘s holiday tip sharing blog has an address! It’s at http://www.maybepaintedpink.blogspot.com. It’s still in pre-content/testing stage, but you can go look at it and say, “Oooooooh! Ahhhhhhhh!” at the design, and you can bookmark it or at it to your RSS thing. Also, remember to email Kara (k a r a m a r i e @ g m a i l dot c o m) with holiday tips, especially Halloween tips: easy/cheap costume ideas? fun Halloween party games? good school party treats? recipe for candy corn rice crispy treats? EMAIL HER.

I’m feeling better than I did earlier, though things still seem stressy and grim. I did six loads of laundry, and that helped. But I’m eying the expired Zoloft I’ve been hoarding for some reason since 2004, and I’m considering taking it. There’s enough to last me at a low dose until after my mother-in-law leaves. I know from my pharmacy job that the “expiration date” on the bottle is a maximum of one year after the prescription is filled–but that the date on the bottle used to dispense the medication was likely much later.

One thing that worries me is that I rely on my stressy panic to power me through big tasks. If I’m not static with anxiety, maybe I won’t do the kind of cleaning binge that’s required here.

I’m also nervous because I’m breastfeeding. As Marie so perfectly put it, I’m worried I’m messing up Henry’s brain chemistry FOREVER!!

But I’m also worried that I’m going to crumble and fall before this visit takes place, or perhaps during it. And I’m not opposed to a little pharmaceutical relief during stressful times. I do wish I were only medicating MYSELF, though.

Let’s change the subject, because I’m feeling stressed again. Oh, I know! I went to Target a couple of days ago (I went in the evening, all by myself, and even the SMELL of Target calms me right down), and they had a ton of baby/toddler summer clothes on 75% off. I bought shirts! shorts! dresses! We’ve talked before about how it’s tough to buy ahead for little kids, but at 75% off I’m more willing to gamble. Elizabeth is in 3T shirts and 18/24m shorts this summer, so I bought 4T tops and 3T shorts. If the 3T shorts are too big, she’ll probably wear them the summer after next.

I also bought a few things for right now: there were some shirts that were too cute (and too cheap) to resist, even though they were only in Edward and Elizabeth’s current size:

I think they were $1.24 (Elizabeth’s) and $1.74 (Edward’s). Plus, Edward is wearing some coordinated dark green-brown shorts that were something like $1.94, and Elizabeth is wearing jeans that were $2.44. NOT BAD.

Here is what to remember from this post:

• You might still get an L. L. Bean ear suit, if you want it.
• You might get 75% off Target summer clothes, if you want them for next year.
• Don’t forget about Avon! Because I probably won’t remind very often.
• You need to email Kara with Halloween ideas.

This has been a morning spent hovering on the teary side of rage.

Cat barf. Blow-out diapers. Mildew in the wipes container.

Elizabeth’s new, bigger-size pants falling down around her ankles.

Hating the thought of exercise. Trying to renew enthusiasm by trying something new: jump-rope! Jump rope hits coffee table; move coffee table. Coffee-table hits end table; move end table, then move coffee table; see crud under end table but stay on task. Jump rope now hits ceiling. SCREW THIS. Decide not to exercise. Decide “some is better than none,” and start jogging around the house. Bugs swooping. Shorts riding up. Guys working across the street. SCREW THIS. Take shower. Feel like failure: “Ooo, TWO WHOLE LAPS around the WHOLE HOUSE! Why not train for IRON MAN next?” Feel discouraged that after 2 months of exercise, attitude continues to go downhill.

Called hotels for mother-in-law. First place said, “For THIS October?” Children got too loud for phone.

Bathroom vanity drawer broken.

Flies and maggots near trash bag on the porch. Oh my god.

Dryer buzzer goes off. Laundry is all finicky stuff like socks that need to be matched. Use unmatched sock to dab at tears. Force self to knock it off: it is only 9:00 in the morning, Self.

New pretty dishes arrived. They’re clearly stamped “Made in Columbia.” They were advertised as “Made in England.” I’m exchanging them–and I’m already anticipating a second set arriving, ALSO stamped “Made in Columbia.”

I made fudge and didn’t stir it long enough, so it crystallized wrong. IT IS THE END OF THE WORLD.

Here’s how I’m self-medicating:
Sample-size of expensive, perfumed face moisturizer.
Comfy undies.
The grainy fudge.
Complaining to you.
This:

Also, I feel heartened at the thought of Black Sheeped‘s new site, which is going to be a “Steal holiday ideas from each other!” site. Cheap and/or easy Halloween costumes! Teacher gifts! Handmade cards! Gifts children can make that don’t suck for the recipient! My mind is buzzing with ideas to submit–but also with the desire to STEAL STEAL STEAL. So I hope you will start sending Kara ideas right this minute. More information on the new site, and also an email address to send ideas, is in the second half of the post I linked to earlier in this paragraph. Hup hup with the Halloween ideas. NOW NOW NOW GO GO GO. *wipes motivational brow*

Pretty, pretty Mir drew my attention to this awesome deal: for today only (and only until they run out), L.L. Bean is selling this ear outerwear suit for $9.00. I have the coordinating hats and coats (a gift from my aunt) for the twins–I posted photos last year.

I am thinking of buying the ear suit for Henry–except usually for babies I do a “hat and thick blanket” combo that is SO easy. But $9.00! I hope some of you who have babies or are expecting babies will buy it!

I like “natural” (brown) best, and might have to cave and buy it. I have an L.L. Bean credit card, so shipping is free. (Mir says you can also get free shipping with code 7420440.)

Oh fine, I caved! I bought it in brown for Henry. If I change my mind, I’ll put it on the gift shelf–I almost bought two just because it would make a cute baby gift.

1. Anyone sick of talking about my mother-in-law yet? I SURE AM.
2. AND YET I CANNOT STOP.
3. This is why the Zoloft, on another pre-visit occasion.
4. Well. I made Paul email her and ask when she was coming.
5. That is a lie, to make myself look like I Took Charge of My Destiny.
6. It was actually his idea to email. He hadn’t read my blog, either. He just did it.
7. Should we take a moment to appreciate Paul? He may dump a cup of dry cereal and crackers into the non-disposal-equipped sink instead of walking an equal number of steps to the trash, but he did email his mother without me telling him to.
8. Unless you count “wringing hands and crying and fretting for weeks” as “telling him to.”
9. Anyway, she DID know when she was coming.
10. The plans were all made; she just hadn’t told us.
11. Information = power.
12. She’s coming “around October 15th.”
13. That’s better than “this coming week.”
14. That’s better than “the entire month.”
15. She didn’t say when she was leaving. She did say she doesn’t have to be back to work until November 5th.
16. That would leave time for a 2.5-week visit. That’s how long she likes to stay.
17. After 1 week, that’s when I typically feel like I can’t stand another minute.
18. If she stayed one week, I would probably feel like her visits were almost pleasant.
19. A week is how long it takes her to feel comfortable in her sense of self, and start spreading that sense of self into every corner of our lives.
20. She has not looked into hotels.
21. She asked us to research it.
22. CALM! BLUE! OCEAN!
23. Also, I think I should probably delete all this in a week or so, don’t you?

1. My mother-in-law is coming for a visit “in October.” That’s as specific as she’s been.
2. She has taken the entire month of October off from work. She did tell us that much.
3. I’ve been hyperventilating ever since.
4. She says she is planning to drive to see us. A drive from her house to ours would be two days for mad crazy college-student types who could take turns driving, or three days for an adult who wanted to eat and pee and sleep as well as drive.
5. In the past, she has said that she doesn’t think a visit under 2 weeks is “worth the plane ticket.” I shudder to think what length visit is “worth” six days round-trip of driving, hotels, gas, and meals out.
6. She says she is planning to stay in a hotel while she’s here.
7. It is my firm, unwavering belief that she said the hotel thing under the assumption that we would say, “Oh, don’t be silly, of course you’ll stay with us.”
8. That’s what we said last time.
9. Paul says we’re not saying it this time.
10. Later I brought it up again to Paul, and he said, “We are NOT asking her to stay with us, are you crazy?”
11. This hotel thing has thus been decided by her and by him, but who do you suspect will get blamed for it? That’s what I think, too.
12. The nearest hotel is a 20-minute drive from our house, and it’s $145 per night for the cheapest room. That’s $2,030 if she stays her usual two weeks. There’s also a motel 1 minute away, and it’s the kind of place that has people sitting in lawn chairs in the parking lot, smoking cigarettes and drinking beer at 8:00 in the morning as children wait for the bus nearby. I don’t know how much it costs. It seems like if I call and ask how much a room is, they might say, “By the night or by the hour?”
13. I think it’s really likely she’ll show up here with no reservations made and then wait until about 10:00 at night to say, “Oh, what’s a good hotel around here?” If she does that, I’m recommending the scuzzy place.
14. One reason I haven’t mentioned this hotel thing before is that I don’t think she actually WILL stay in a hotel. I think she will work it so that she will “have to” stay with us. So I don’t want to get all familiar and relaxed with the hotel idea.
15. My parents gave me a gift certificate for cleaning services back when the twins were born, and I’m finally going to use it. I need to arrange this, and for all I know it could be too late already. But I don’t want to set it up until I know when she’ll be here, so I can have the house cleaned the day before.
16. What kind of nutjob doesn’t tell people when she’s coming? Obviously we need to KNOW.
17. Several times last month and this month she said she’d tell us as soon as she knew what her plans were. So I’d feel like an idiot asking. Paul says, “She said she’d tell us when she knew. So she must not know.”
18. She SHOULD know by now.
19. It is seriously fruitcakey if she hasn’t made plans.
20. It’s also seriously fruitcakey if she has made plans but hasn’t told us.
21. Oh god, do you think she hasn’t told us because she plans to come for the entire month?
22. Let’s not think about that. Let’s not even THINK about that. Let’s think about the calm blue ocean instead. Calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean.
23. Does she realize it’s only one week until October? I CERTAINLY REALIZE IT.
24. Is this a SURPRISE visit or something?
25. BEEZUS CRIBBONS. It is not unreasonable for me to want to know when I am having houseguests. For the love of pete! (See how I am toning down my language? If I used the big guns now, what would I use when she’s actually HERE?)
26. I keep thinking I’ll just email her. I’ll say, “October is a week away now–do you know when you’re planning to be here?” But whenever I’ve asked her a question, I’ve ended up sorry. She uses it as an opportunity to tell me what to do, or she gives me another information-free response, or she doesn’t respond at all.
27. In Paul’s family, secrets are power.
28. Have I mentioned he didn’t introduce me to his family until after we were married?
29. He made it seem like purely a logistical issue, but now I think he was smart as well as handsome.
30. He’s also a lucky son-of-a-bitch I didn’t have the marriage annulled after I met his parents.
31. Do you like how this list came out to 31, just like the number of days in October? Also, October 31st is Halloween! Ooooo, SCARY!

Laundry

Lunch

Dishes

Hat

The title of this post was “So Discouraged,” but that was before my HCI (Hot Coffee Injection) and now I am more like, “Hey, let’s do laundry! and bake brownies! and have an autumnal soup for lunch! and let’s think of something fun for The Virtual Avon Party–like, I wonder if I could do a little giftie (lip balm?) for the first five orders?” I’ve been emailing LeAnna all morning. She is probably getting very, very sorry she ever told me about this Avon thing.

When not under the influence of coffee (note to self: buy larger coffee pot), I’ve been feeling whiny and stressy. The one time I went on psychiatric medication, it was a few weeks before a mother-in-law visit, just like this. I didn’t realize it was the stress of the impending visit–I thought I was just suddenly unable to cope with life.

So many things “need” to be done before she gets here. I think about what actually ought to be done (clean bathroom, hide birth control and journals, put away usual dishes), but before long I’m thinking the only way to start is by getting rid of fully half of what we own, since otherwise there is too much clutter for me to work on the cleaning.

And that may be completely true about the clutter, but it’s not going to happen before she gets here, and I need to face that. The water stains on the ceiling are not going to get painted. The WALLS are not going to get painted. The thirty layers of clutter are going to be moved to other locations, but not disposed of. The house will still be our house, and that is absolutely fine and reasonable. I’m working on an “If you don’t like it, bite me” attitude, so far with little success. (How come “Be yourself” only applies if you’re The Cultural Ideal? Hand-wringing, neuroses-packed, under-medicated over-thinkers should be able to be themselves too!)

The day before yesterday, I began freaking out in earnest. I kept wanting to tackle some of the big messy areas, but even after one single project (I cleaned out the children’s craft cupboard–way to prioritize!), I felt like I was way behind on my usual skimpy housework. Laundry: teetering! Litter box: in violation of health codes! Bathroom: smelling like pee!

And other projects continue to accumulate. I overdid it at The Children’s Place (I haven’t told you about the online order I placed after my success at the store), and I need to lay everything out and see what I’m keeping and what I’m taking back. Elizabeth’s shoes are too small and her jeans are too short, so I need to dig out the next sizes. The rechargeable batteries for my digital camera are crap, or else the recharger is broken, and in either case I need to handle that so I can take more than ten photos before the batteries give out. The minivan needs an oil change.

How to fit in the Extra Pre-Mother-in-Law-Visit Cleaning when I can’t even keep up with the regular stuff? And I know, I should be all, “Who cares what she thinks?,” but I’m just NOT. (I think the people who say they don’t care what other people think DO care what other people think: they want them to think they don’t care what other people think.)

Anyway. Once I get overwhelmed like this, my natural inclination is to huddle in my recliner, keening and throwing candy wrappers on the floor. At the very time I should be springing into action because there is so much to do, that is when, perversely, I can’t face doing a single thing. Each thing I attempt to do seems like the least important or the least manageable, or it feels like something else has to be done in order to make it possible to do this other thing, or I feel like I can’t possible do it until I have a System, ideally with Matching Containers and a new house to put them in.

The only way to face this state of mind is to pick anything–ANYTHING–that seems doable, and do it. Thus the craft cupboard. My mother-in-law is unlikely to be affected by the state of the craft cupboard, but having it cleaned up is still better than NOT having it cleaned up. And it made me feel like I was making progress.

Yesterday I did the front hall closet. Again, not as high up the priority list as, say, chiseling dust off the bookshelves. But I did it, and having it done is better than NOT having it done. (I spent the twins’ entire naptime doing it, so it BETTER be better than not.) I also scooped the litter box and got out Elizabeth’s bigger jeans. And this morning when Elizabeth woke me at 5:00, I used the opportunity to order more camera batteries. Is each task like pulling out my own teeth? Yes. But each one makes me feel a little better than I felt when I had all of it still to do.

Also: worse. Because I’m still stressed, and I’m getting increasingly tired, and I didn’t exercise yesterday even though I was supposed to. I wanted to tell myself that cleaning out the closet qualified as exercise, but even I’M not falling for that one.