Well so far I seem to be doing okay today, even though by the time I finish writing this it will technically be tomorrow. Unless of course I type like Speedy Gonzales and get this done before midnight. Which is really, really unlikely considering I feel like his cousin, Slow Poke Rodriguez.

Today was a better day if only for the reason that it was so crammed full of stuff to do that I didn’t have time to think let alone have a minute to be sad about anything.

My day started at the crack of dawn, literally. Though I really shouldn’t complain, because with SAJ and Bug here I could have just as easily been woken up at 4:15am. For some reason my adorable little niece gets up earlier and earlier. We figured no nap and a later bedtime would help her sleep in, but no, of course not. Poor Brenda kept her quiet in the bedroom with Rapunzel asleep next to her so the rest of us could sleep. While it wasn’t necessary, it was appreciated.

While Rapunzel got ready for school, I laid on the couch listening and watching all that was going on around me. I even got to watch the sky change colors as the sun rose. If I had been a little more motivated I would have made the coffee, grabbed a blanket and my knitting, and headed outside to knit and watch the sunrise. But me and motivated are not words you are going to see in the same sentence. Well, not unless they have the word “not” between them.

I guess there is one advantage of being up before the sun, the sunrise. I miss the sunrise. I miss the feeling of wonderment that comes with the dawning of each new day. It’s been so long since I’ve really seen a sunrise. I’m pretty sure the last one was when we lived in Illinois. It was so long ago that I can’t even remember what it was like.

Watching the sunrise, well, what I could see of it through the dining room window anyways, left me feeling a little melancholy. It was great to watch the colors change and watch the day grow brighter and brighter, but the feeling of wonderment just wasn’t there. I still thought it was beautiful, but the feeling of a new day with so much that could be done just wasn’t there. It really sucked.

I am literally having to force myself to get up and moving by 8am. And I mean force as in if I sit down somewhere even remotely comfortable, like on the floor, I am asleep in about two minutes. And since I only have the chairs at my kitchen table, one which resides at my computer when Shawn isn’t home, two bean bag chairs, two hedgehogs, and no couch, you can guess where I spend most of my time, on the floor.

Wanna watch a movie, have a seat over…..well, anyplace really. Just don’t expect me to stay awake. Poor SuperChic fends for herself most mornings. Rapunzel is self-sufficient and doesn’t need help most of the time, but sometimes when she leaves SuperChic is awake, and they don’t wake me up. I get out of bed to check on her and she’s dressed and had breakfast. When I ask her why she didn’t wake me up, she tells me I needed the sleep. She doesn’t get that whether I need the sleep or not, I’m the Mom and I’m supposed to take care of her, not the other way around.

Hopefully, in the next two weeks I’ll start to feel like I’m taking care of my kids and not that they’re taking care of me.

Anyways, this entire post was basically supposed to say that I’m on the meds, um, I meant mend. I’m trying to get used to the meds and I’m praying that they’ll work and that when they do maybe everything will be a little brighter.

I really don’t want to walk around all day looking dopey and saying that everything’s great all the time. I just want to be able to say I’m okay and really mean it.

For those of you wondering where “Step One” is it’s right here.
So, yesterday was the second step. Yesterday I spent approximately 2 1/2 hours at the doctors office.

This is what I learned.

1. People stare at you, then look away, when you knit and are not over the age of sixty.

2. People stare at you more, then look away, when you spend the two hours in the waiting room browsing eBay with your husband and knitting at the same time.

3. People really stare at you, and don’t look away, when you start discussing different calibers of ammunition in the waiting room. When you hit six, they look at you with an, “OMG how many gun’s do these people own???” look on their face.

4. I weigh more now than I ever have including when I was pregnant.

5. 164 pounds if you must know.

6. Watching the Super Bowl commercials is a good way to distract yourself once you’re in the examination room waiting for the doctor.

7. Watching the Super Bowl commercials and knitting at the same time not advised unless you like to tink. (Knit backwards.)

8. When you tell your doctor that the only time your cycle has been what others consider “regular” was when you were 12/13 or on birth control pills.

9. When you tell her your “regular” is 14-17 days. Her eyes kinda bulge.

10. When you tell her it’s been that way since junior high she, “hmmms.”

11. When she asks how you keep from getting pregnant when you cycle so often and you answer, “I had my tubes tied when my youngest was one, I was 23 almost 24;” she stops writing and turns around to look at you.

12. After that she isn’t phased when you say two kids, six pregnancies, and I was high risk and on bed-rest for the last two pregnancies.

13. At this point I get the standard, let’s run some tests, see what we can see. Blood work, urinalysis, and ultrasounds. Lucky me, I get to have two different kinds of ultrasounds to take pictures form the inside and outside.

14. The questions you’re asked to determine if you require medication are kinda odd and mundane. (I am also offered a prescription for 800 Mg. Ibuprofen, or something stronger, but I don’t remember what for the pain that accompanies my cycle. I decline. Four OTC ibuprofen is fine.)

15. You can’t downplay how things have been at home when your husband is sitting next to you. Which is why he is there.

16. Hearing, “how do you feel about anti-depressants?” and wanting to say no-way-no-how means you weren’t prepared for the doctor to put you on meds, even though you knew it was likely.

17. Walking out with appointments to see the vampires, an ultrasound tech, directions to be back in her office in two weeks, and eight weeks worth of Lexapro samples still blows your mind over 24 hours later.