Really? I'm a Mom?

growing up

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Wed, 19 Sep 2012 20:53:00 +0000

so it seems to me that I've out grown this blog.

I don't no longer feel the .... oomph I've felt for this blog.

I need to close it down.

I've enjoyed my time here.

I'm gonna keep it open for all to get the encouragement they seek - but I no longer feel called to write here.

I am still suffering - but no longer from PPD.

If you want, please follow me on my bipolar blog.

Come Unglued.

Love you guys. If you dont wanna follow me on there? Follow me on twitter. I'm always there.

And as always don't ever give up.

Excerpt from my book: I'm Not a Monster, I just need halp

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Tue, 18 Sep 2012 14:21:00 +0000

So...........

I'm going against the paranoid side of me and posting an excerpt of my book. Enjoy.

------------

Anyhow, back to the second year of marriage. I was feeling a little off. I thought, happily, that maybe I was pregnant. I took like 7 tests. All came out negative. I made an appointment with my endocrinologist (a doctor for...well people like me. Thyroid problems). I thought it has to either be I'm pregnant or there is something wrong with my thyroid hormone levels. I mean I was just so stinking tired.

So I go, give him all my symptoms and what does he say to me? I think maybe you are depressed and need to take medicine for it.

I looked at him and was like: Umm...ha! I think you might be the crazy one doc. I am happy. I just got married, we are happy. Sure, I work for Cruella DeVil (no, will not go into that. She doesn't deserve any part of this book. Serioulsy, she was worse than Glen Close as Cruella or Meryl Streep in that Prada movie) – but my life is great. Yeah, we were in major debt that caused my husband to work two jobs even with me working. It still was livable. (yes, I do realize I was being totally delusional)

Yup, I said all that in one look. I said nothing though. I was floored. It was the first time someone said something about that to me. How dare he right?

He suggested I go see my regular doctor to get a prescription and maybe talk to someone.

I left shell shocked. I was fine. Right?

I talked with my husband – I said everything I thought. And Dave agreed with me. “yeah, you have nothing to be depressed about.” I talked with my mom about it: “Jessica, you are fine. He is probably one of those doctors that pushes pills on every one he meets.”

I agreed with them – I mean, they did know me best right? But I still had that lingering thought in my head. What if I am depressed? That means I have no faith right?

Then – the most wonderfullest thing happened. I finally got a positive on a pregnancy test. The thoughts of depression flew out of the window.

I was pregnant! Who cares about depression? My worries were over!

We told everyone immediately. Then we found out my cousin was pregnant at the same time. It was cool beans, I thought hopefully they can grow up together friends.

There were something funky about this pregnancy though. I was...not clicking to it. No wait...bad word. Umm....I wasn't connecting. I couldn't get too happy. Not that I didn't want to; I just literally could not connect. I mean the first joy about me being pregnant? Lasted all of a day. Or two. After that? I was just....meh.

All I kept thinking about? Was I about how I was gonna have a miscarriage. I just knew I wasn't gonna carry this baby to full term. I knew something wasn't right. But I stayed silent. Cause again, who thinks like that? Who prepares for a miscarriage?

Yeah. I know. Craaaayyyy-zzzeeeeeee.

My mom ordered me my first pair of pregnancy jeans – I felt like it was a jinx. I joked that she jinxed me. You know you are not supposed to buy pregnancy stuff before your third month. Yeah. I know, most people actually believe that. I don't...did. Ummm....I don't know how to finish that, sooooooo moving on.

I put on a face. I was happy. My nails were growing long and hard. I had such a strong feeling – this was a girl. I even had her name picked out. Emma. I planned her name – but I still couldn't picture her face. I couldn't fathom that I was pregnant. Like my mind wasn't accepting the fact that I was pregnant.

Then, I started getting weird cramps. I thought nothing of it. I mean you are supposed to get growing cramps right? I started brown spotting on my underwear. Still thought nothing of it. Don't know why – but it didn't bother me.

Then, I started to bleed. My heart stopped. We went to see the doctor. He saw the embryo. Was smaller for how far along I should have been, and we couldn't see the heartbeat but he said: “Don't worry. Our sonogram machine is really old.” He remained positive. My husband remained positive. Me? I just couldn't grasp that positivity. I just felt...funky. I felt empty. I felt nothing. I even stopped bleeding as much. But still, I just couldn't get happy.

So he made me an appointment with the hospital for a normal sonogram. Then that night? I bled even more.

The next day? I bled even more. We went back to the doctor.

Now, for this next part? Its kind of hard for me to write. I had the miscarriage. So, as a form of therapy – I wrote it out in story form.

--------------------

Having #Bipolar2

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Sat, 15 Sep 2012 23:16:00 +0000

I'm circling the drain.

I can't. Just can't take it. These are the times when I just hate being a mom.

Yeah. I said it - I hate that I said it and yet I really don't. It's kind of freeing. Whatever, ya know what I mean. If you don't, just chalk it up to the fact that I'm crazy.

Just tonight was hard. Diva was banging hard on an empty plate, Monkey was repeating every single word anyone said at a decibel heard by deaf people in China, and Mr. Man was talking about his day.

How is that hard? I don't know. Just sometimes noise is such a trigger that all I want to do is shove a fork in my eye to dull the pain in my brain.

It's been a hard coupla days. Obviously being stuck in the house this long recuperating is starting to affect me.

Ya know today was hard - but then? I get these small little moments that remind me. Remind me of why I do what I do.

Freakin me out

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Fri, 14 Sep 2012 20:09:00 +0000

So last week, I'm recovering in my room right?

Well, the monkeyness was visiting me in my room, while my mom changed Divas diaper in her room.

We heard them over the monitor and my son? Was a little freaked out. My mom kept calling for him over the monitor - that's usually silent when he plays with it. So I told my mom,

Me: Nana, call out to Monkey so he realizes it's you.

Nana: (in a spooky evil sing song voice that I have no idea why she used it) moooooooonkeeeeeeyyyyyy, moooooooooonkeeeeeeyyyyyy! Come heeeeeerrrrrrreeeeee!!!! (I kid you not. I don't know what was wrong with the woman. Why would she do that?!)

Monkey: Nooo! (Running away from monitors)

Me: Calm down sweetie. (to my mom) good job in freaking out my kid ma.

Monkey: yeah nana

[Insert RIM Shot here]

#Suicide Prevention Week

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Tue, 11 Sep 2012 13:56:00 +0000

Okay.......so this week is suicide prevention week. I am so firmly supportive of this for so many reasons.

The biggest?

Me.

..............

Um.....sorry. This is hard to write. Wanted to write it yesterday as yesterday was the actual Suicide prevention day. But I couldnt. Shoo.......I don't know if I'll be able to finish this post.

....................................

I suffer from bipolar 2 and before I was diagnosed, almost took my life.

.....................................

I can not in anyway stress enough how important it is to get help. If you are feeling empty, alone, unloved, like the world would be better off without you - Please seek help. Talk to someone. A trusted loved one. A doctor. Anyone. Don't put yourself through this hell hole unneeded.

Don't have anyone you trust? That's fine. Call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline for a perfect start to getting the help you need. Call 800-273- TALK (8255)

Please my friend - don't live like this any longer.

Do you have a loved one you are worried about? Check out this great blog post of the warning signs of suicide and DON'T STAY SILENT! Talk to that loved one. Reach out.

Please.

I hate

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Mon, 10 Sep 2012 21:31:00 +0000

a lot.

I know. not exactly Christ like. God forgive me, but I do.

Like, I hate when I walk through the mall with my kids and I "feel" everyone looking at me and judging me. I hate when I let the paranoia take over.

Usually around my time of the month (sorry guys....but its a fact of female life. Get over it), I get REALLY paranoid. Like I walk through Walmart thinking one of ~~them hicks~~ the other customers is gonna steal my kids. Seriously, you've seen them - they are too freaking cute for their own good and people around here are too friendly for this ex-New Yorker.

So I would get panic attacks.

Anyways, back to what I was saying. Today. Mr. Man, the creatures and I went to the local mall. Monkey loves the water fountain in the middle of the mall and Mr. Man needed to go check out something about his phone. Since I obviously just had surgery (if its not obvious to you - well, shame on you for not being psychotic...no wait. Ha. Psychic...crap. What is the word?), I stood with Monkey at the fountain. I felt like I was 500 lbs, especially since I had to wear my pregnancy pants.

Yes, I am still recovering and should shut my brain up but hey, its my brain. What can I do?

Then Monkey wanted to get up and start walking.

Me being the ever awesome mother agreed. We walked part of the way after Mr. Man and I felt one of my stitches pulling. I had to sit down. I tried to get monkey to let me sit down, but he just started screaming and throwing a fit. Then came the stares and then...came the thoughts.

Wha? Didn't you know with Bipolar 2 disorder comes the ability to read minds?

Yeah.

"Look at that fat lady. She can't even take her son for a walk in the mall."

"That poor kid has to deal with such a lazy mother"

I felt the hot glare of a disapproving vieja staring me down.....I finally got up. Was there an actual vieja staring me down? No. But I felt it.

But heres the thing - normally? Shoo....nothing about this post is normal. "In the past" I should say. In the past? I would get the anxiety attack. I would get the heart palpitations, the sweaty-ness. the depression about how fat I was. This time?

I easily shrugged everything off.

Okay....I'm not delusional. It wasn't easily. But I was able to shrug it off. I still feel like I'm 3000 pounds, but I dont care what people think of me. Okay...thats a lie too. I do hate that. I hate that I care. When will I not care?

My little parrot

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Fri, 07 Sep 2012 15:08:00 +0000

So. Monkey has hit an interesting stage.

Thing is? I am definitely not a fan of it anymore.

Why?

Well, as you may or may not know - I've been taking percocet cause my catchers mitt has been acting up on me. (this was written before my surgery & I'm too high & tired to try & change it) Which of course leaves me, a little loopy and.....well - my judgement partially impaired. Don't tell Mr. Man I said that - I will totally deny it.

Well, one day I needed to go to run errands. Obviously as high as I've been, my mom joined us to be my chauffeur. Which had to of course start off with starbucks - just a thing with my mom.

So, we are at the speaker thing when this happened:

Me: (coughed) [in a whisper] dang I just peed

My mom giggled

And my son? Who apparently has supersonic hearing?

Monkey: MOMMY GO PEEPEE!!!!!!!!!!!

Yeah, I couldn't look the drive thru person in the eye

The little booger.

blarg ...

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Wed, 05 Sep 2012 19:35:00 +0000

You ever have that feeling that something big is supposed to happen?

So you take a big deep breath and you just wait?

And then nothing happens? Or at least you think nothing happens?

Yeah, that was me for a while. Ya see, last year around December; Mr. Man, the kids and I were driving home from my parents house when I got particularly....blarg-y. Its a scientific term, I swear. Anyways, I was looking out the window at the beauty of winter and I said to the mistah: "Next year is gonna be a big year. Something huge is gonna happen to us."

Up until literally like last week? I've been waiting. Then it hit me. A lot of huge things happened in 2012. I was diagnosed with bipolar 2 disorder (paranoia sucks yo). I have moved into my first adult home (a townhome). My daughter and I turned a year (postpartum depression survivor y'all). I was diagnosed with OCD (know me personally, this is not much of a shock). Recently, I had a hysterectomy.

Those are some pretty huge things happening.

So I guess...I was right.

Don't get much solace in knowing those facts.

I would much rather have something else than bipolar 2. I would love that I could trust myself to have a cup of Starbucks coffee again. I would love that I could keep my nails long. I would love to be able to sit at a computer and not write because I am having a panic attack.

I would just love to hear the sounds of my kids playing and smile; instead of wanting to scream my head off. I want to be normal.

Sorry y'all. Just been having one huge anxiety attack after another lately. Paranoia high. I think I've been stuck in this house too long.

I hate this. But don't worry. I'm fighting. Will be my ninja self soon.

I dont know where this post is going. I just want to write. I like writing...empties my thoughts of the crazy. Ya know, of the few people that know of my bipolar - when they find out? They are in shock. They are like: Are you sure you have bipolar?

At first it was irritating, but as my husband ever so irritatingly (shhh, dont tell him I said he was right) reminds me - Its a testament to my strength.

I'm not so sure.

Sure I dont lash out and scream when every inch of me is telling me to. So okay; I dont punch walls and cry and fall into a ball for the simple reason that Monkey and Diva need me working and deserve oh so much more.

Maybe I get up and shower and take the kids out when all I wanna do is curl up into myself and push the world away.

Does that make me strong?

I still look at a knife (or really anything sharp) in a way that God intended no human to look at it. I pray constantly for God to silence my crazy thoughts (yes, actual prayer). I keep short nails just so you know, cause I dont trust myself. I run screaming from my kids when they are being too much....like kids.

Is that strength?

Or is that surviving?

This is what recovery looks like

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Mon, 03 Sep 2012 18:33:00 +0000

Just had surgery to remove my catchers mitt. What have I been doing?

Mr. Duck does not approve of Nick Cage in Knowing

Mr. Duck disapproving me of teasing Mr. Man...again

Mr. Duck giving me a hug for the boo-boos

Surviving...........

so long, farewell

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Wed, 29 Aug 2012 15:36:00 +0000

My dear U,

Well, this is it. You and I are parting ways this Friday. I honestly thought we would grow old and shrivelly together. Shrivelly...is that a word? who cares. You're leaving me on Friday.

I bet your wondering why - well, you see the people you've been inviting over? Are a pain. Literally. I don't like them at all. They've been making me sick and I just can't deal with them anymore. So the doctor and I decided its time to evict yo butt out. Why did you hafta invite those fibroids over? They are just nothing but trouble.

Sigh.

I guess this is just the ultimate lesson you will just hafta learn, I can't warn ya no more sistah.

Can't say I'm too upset about all this, I mean sure - you gave me two of the best gifts I could ever ask for. Monkey Man and Diva. I love them to pieces and I am so grateful to you for them - but they are starting to smell weird and I can't give them back to you. And ya know, those fights we have had once a month? Ya know - where you've had your Aunt Flo come stay with you? They've lasted way too long! Most people stay a couple of days but I remember one time you let your Aunt Flo stay for 10 days. No wait - there was that time that you let her stay for 2 months! See why I ain't too sad about our parting?

Of course, I look at cheech and chong (also known as my ~~monsters~~ ~~creatures~~ kids) and wish that I could have more cute kids. You know how I've always wanted more kids. But I know that this is for the best, shoo I can't handle these two kids now. How am I gonna deal with more?

What am I saying?

I don't know. I'm high on percocet chick, you've made life these past few months very painful.

Oh wait - I know what I'm saying. Is it freaking friday yet? Get out already!

Signed,

A conflicted mom of two adorable monsters who is ready for the next step in her life - maybe. Not sure.

The Divaness

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Mon, 27 Aug 2012 19:53:00 +0000

So my daughter is a very interesting foe - cause yes y'all...she is a foe in this story.
First reason?

She refuses to eat any table food I give her. She must take the food for herself, play with it for 20 minutes and if it survived that long? Eat it. God, I wish I was kidding about that.

This girl is so stubborn, I swear she gets that from Mr. Man. Stop laughing, I'm serious.

Anyhow, this latest battle we've had? Has been with the high chair.

She eats her meals in this chair, which I would choose to believe she loves. Mostly cause she doesn't scream when put her in it.

But when she's particularly playful, in the middle of feeding her - she'll start spinning her head like a woman in a pentecostal church service.

I believed it was just from her rubbing her head on the back of the chair. So what did I do? Shoo...I busted out my mad mommy skills and moved the chair like this.

Mad skillz right?

So she would eat her meals without looking like a mad child.

This was after eating - Calliou is apparently very interesting

But what does this child up and do in response?

I give up.

i have a question

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Fri, 24 Aug 2012 13:38:00 +0000

My question will come at the end of this post. The only thing I ask? Please answer honestly.

As I told y'all, recently I had been suffering. I've been in a funk and in a lot of pain. Fibroids hurt yo. So because of this my awesome husband, has had to pick up the slack. The cooking, cleaning...and so on.

Anyhow, as witnessed in one of my last awesome posts, that no one has seen apparently; I made a joke . Therefore I am pushing out of this fog.

Anyhow, the other day? Something interesting happened. I had a good day...even after having a bad teething night with Diva. I even went out with both screaming cranky kids (with my mom, I cant go anywhere without help cause I'm in so much pain after....who the crap cares. Lemme just tell the dang story). Later on in the day I had an interesting conversation with Mr. Man when he came home from work:

Me: So what do you think? (I was wearing a new maxi dress from Lane Bryant. I wont show you a pic of me cause...well, I am very boobalicious in it.)

Mr. Man: Oh wow. Thats very nice. So thats what you did today?

Me: Well, yeah I bought this. Plus some other groceries we needed for the kids.

Mr. Man: Oh okay. Man, I am so tired today. Babe, do you mind cooking dinner today?

Me: Um, yes. I mind very much. I had a very busy, very hectic day. What do you think I was doing all day?

Mr. Man: Uh. You were shopping for yourself. You did nothing. You can cook, you ain't even close to being as tired as I am.

So. Here is my question to you:

What funeral hall should I send him to?

FULL DISCLOSURE: My husband was kidding. And yes, I do know he was kidding.

For you: Its good to be you

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Tue, 21 Aug 2012 19:41:00 +0000

sometimes you go to extremes to make people happy. That's a major thing with me. I am such a major people pleaser.

Blech. Jessica...please stop saying major - you are not 12.

For example, I say "awesome". A lot. Like a lot, a lot. Like my son now says "awesome" when his sister lets his car go down the race ramp thingy correctly, a lot. I also say "Dude" a lot. Especially when I am correcting the kids.

Its sad, my kids even know the differences between the way I say "Dude" and how much trouble they are in.

What can I say, apparently I want to be a surfer and not a writer.

Anyhow, what the heck was I saying? Oh yeah. So I was saying, people pleasing. I was sitting in a car dealership, a million years ago (like that time frame? Yes, I was Fred and Wilma's next door neighbor. No smarty pants on the other side, obviously my name ain't Betty Rubble), making small talk with the finance guy. He was a nice older southern gentleman. Lets call him Jackson, sounds nice and southern right? He was rotund and his head was full of white hair. Kinda reminded me of santa claus. Why? dang people - he was giving us a new car!

Thing I noticed about my good friend Santa Claus Jackson, was that anytime I said "Awesome" or "Dude"? He seemed to stop himself for a second. Like he was gonna correct me or something.

So I jokingly said: "Don't you just hate the word awesome?" He breathed a sigh of relief, looked up with a stern look (not at anyone in particular) and said: "Oh, I do. I really, really do." And kept on working.

Right? I was in such shock he acted like that. I quickly added that I had been saying "Awesome" and "Dude" since college cause of a roommate....blah, blah, blah, blah. And you know what this knucklehead ups and does?

I stop myself from saying those words. I let Mean ole Santa Claus Jackson take away....apart of me. It just stinks that we do that.

And I mean we as a society, not we as in there is more than one me. I ain't that type of crazy ;)

Why write this?

Just to say; don't let the Santa Claus Jackson's steal the awesomeness from your life. Be who you are meant to be.

Be the AWESOME YOU! Why? Cause we all love you that way. I swear.

Wait...wha?

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Mon, 20 Aug 2012 21:10:00 +0000

One night I was typing away (writing for you nontechnical people who as I write this....I must admit thats a very few amount of people most of whom....ummm....sooo.....), while my husband was lying down...laying down....whatevering on the couch. Mr man, who I thought was asleep, turned to me and said:

Mr. Man: be careful. You don't want to drop it

Me: I just...wait..huh?

Mr. Man: you heard me

Me: but the laptop is in the couch. Theres no possible way for me...

Mr. Man: yeah

And with that he closed his eyes and turned away from me.

And that is why I now ask him "are you awake?" 5 times before I start talking to him.

Though I probably don't hafta ask him as he's eating...or drinking...or on the john....

Maybe when he's on the john.

special stuff for me

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Fri, 17 Aug 2012 21:46:00 +0000

I'm bipolar right?

Well, on those anxiety, paranoia, anger filled days?

Those days where everything sets me off?

I want to be able to wear a sign.

One for my car, for my body, for my kids - everywhere around me.

The sign will say:

Don't piss me off. I'm crazy.

Not exactly Christ-like, but it gets the point across right?

Here I am

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Wed, 15 Aug 2012 20:30:00 +0000

It's been a while.

I've been surviving? How are you, people who can't answer me back physically?

So why have I started writing again you ask? Great question, imaginary people who asked me. You see, I am starting a writing career and need a place where people can see how freaking awesome my writing skills is (yes I did that on purposes).

I've been having fun with the kids, dealing with my bipolar diagnosis, living life all happy schmappy. Okay, not really as well, der - I have bipolar suhckahs.

Oh, just so you know I'm going through a funk. A depressive state if you will, and when I do? Sarcasm is my superpower.

And apparently I call people suhckah - a whole lot.

I wish I was kidding about that last sentence.

Anyhow, I am starting my writing career - check out my site www.jessicatorres.net. I tried getting a dot com, but that is what sucks about having a common name. If anyone wants to give me tips on how to make it better, my site - not my last name. I like my last name. Website tips? I am so all ears. Oh, and now y'all know my real name. How do you feel knowing this well kept secret?

So, trying to think what else has been going on. Oh, my therapist up and retired on me. I'm trying not to go all sally field (is it sally field?) on her and scream: "why are you leaving me?" But it's all good. I think I found a new one....not sure.

Many reasons I'm not sure, biggest one is I know them personally.

Oh another big thing? I'm having surgery. They are removing my catchers mitt, that's uterus for those of you not immature like me. It's a partial hysterectomy, so I won't go through menopause at least.

Um, I guess that's it. If this post comes out weird looking? It's cause I wrote it on my phone - so ya gotta accept it suhckahs. Typos, weird spacing & all.

Well, at least until my next post. Todays my internet is being all pms-y, so I can't.

Just thinking about hate

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Mon, 13 Aug 2012 14:58:00 +0000

Heres some things I've been thinking.

I'll probably lose followers - but ya know what? Gonna drop some knowledge on ya. My blog. Boom.

Anyways, this news lately of all the hate that has been going on has just made me so sad. I know its something that you can't get around cause sin is in the world - but still it makes me sad.

For example, this whole Chick-fil-a thing. Man, all the hate that went toward that man who expressed his opinion. I had a friend who her son was working in a chick-fil-a and had a bomb threat. Really?

He was just expressing his opinion - that I happen to agree with. Do I think that gays should not be allowed to married? Well - my opinion on that is this: Who am I to make that judgement. God gave us free will. Who am I to say what you can and cant do? So you ask me to vote on that and I wont.

I just get shocked of the hate that gets spewed toward Christians who state their opinion. Anyone remember that whole Kirk Cameron thing? Whats with the hate?

I remember back in high school or maybe college (cant remember) that the CEO of Target hates Christians. Or something along those lines. My church told us we needed to boycott Target. A whole bunch of us did.

Then I got a clue. Obviously as Target is my crack.

Who cares what about a persons opinion? Or what they do with their money?

I remember even younger than that - something to do with Disney. I don't remember exactly what the boycott of disney was or why. But I do remember my parents not agreeing or changing anything they did because of what the CEO of a company did.

There's been no hate toward those people who throw stones at us Christians who believe against the grain. Why do you guys need to throw stones and hate at us?

Why should I change? All I know is the tasty chargrilled chicken club sandwich? Is not telling me it hates gays. And neither do I for going there.

And if you unfollow me - so be it. Its been nice knowing ya.

or really not knowing ya cause like only 3 people comment on my blog.

And as always - hateful comments will be deleted.

What I've been doing and #Michaelbloomberg? Stop hurting the new moms

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Wed, 01 Aug 2012 14:09:00 +0000

So, I've been enjoying my time off from blogging. Monkey, Diva and I met Elmo.

He wasn't too wowed

Someone became a superhero...

waiting to save the day

We have been coloring a lot

I know. Brilliant

Going to amusement parks

Love the look of terror on Monkeys face

Just basically hiding from the internet world.

I've been really enjoying this time with my kids. Getting used to my symptoms, my episodes...all that jazz. I was planning on a small post to say we are alive and having fun...but then someone did something stupid.

I heard about what this chucklehead Michael Bloomberg decided to do in NYC hospitals.

He needs to be told off.

Dear Michael Bloomberg,

You dear sir, and I say this with the greatest respect I can, are a HUGE monkeys butt. You have no right to say what I feed my child that I just gave birth to. As a woman who suffered through major depression at the birth of her child, breasfeeding her? Was the farthest thing from my mind. It gave me great anxiety. And if you knew anything, you would know high amounts of anxiety hurts the production of breast milk. You are most welcome for that biology lesson. Here's a tip for you. Print this out and give this to your advisors who told you this was a good idea. Cause obviously, they are a bunch of monkey butts too.

Here's a great idea for ya. What you should be doing? Is taking this misguided effort on breastfeeding? And concentrate it on the mental health of the woman who just gave birth. Make a staff or some sort of committee to concentrate on new moms who get overwhelmed with millions of chuckleheads pushing their ideals on them. These new moms who need to know that they are the only ones who know what is right for their children. These new moms are the ones who don't need to feel like a monster when they ask for formula for their newborn child.

Please rearrange your thinking. Help their mental health. Stop trying to hurt it.

Sincerely,

A mom fighting for those moms without a voice

its about that time

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Sun, 13 May 2012 18:44:00 +0000

Thats something my family would say when they were about to leave after a visit.

Its just about that time.

And?

For me? Its just about that time here. This past weekend has made a huge confirmation for me: I try to hard. I need to learn when it is okay to say enough is enough.

In other words? I need to bow out of blogging for a bit.

I need to concentrate on three other very important things in my life.

My kids, my health and my book.

Literally in that order.

I have been driving myself crazy trying to come up with awesome stuff week after week, day after day for here and its starting to take its toll.

I freak when people dont comment on entries I feel should be high comment worthy, I dont get the amount of views I care about - blah, blah, blah.

And this? Is not conducive for my recovery. I need to take care of me. I need to learn when to say: "No". I have had people email me or facebook me thanking for the encouragement and for the laughs - thats what made this decision so hard.

It hurts to step back for a bit - but I need to. I need to enjoy my kids without always thinking about this blog.

I will still keep my facebook account and my twitter - cause well, lets face it I am a twitter addict. And? I need facebook to keep in contact with family (facebook).

So, I will keep the blog open for always - this needs to be here for any other PPD mommas out there. They need to know someone got through. Also, I may just come back - I am a writer after all. I need a place to let loose my inner awesome from time to time.

So til we meet again - much love to you. And please - don't you ever give up.

For you repeat

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Fri, 11 May 2012 01:42:00 +0000

There is a lot happening in my life this week.

First and foremost - huge family reunion.

Has me a little scatterbrained. So, I am gonna hafta do something a little different.

While, here on the post I will play my repeat; please feel free to either follow me on twitter @imperfectmomma or follow the hashtag #foryoufriday.

All day I will be tweeting...for you my hurting friends.

And?

Just remember always that even though I am really busy - my hearts a stereo and it beats for you...so listen close.

about some awesomeness

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Mon, 07 May 2012 19:01:00 +0000

Hi!

Yup. I'm out of the funk. Might have something to do with the fact that our road trip is over - no I will not go into detail about it.

Thats just how I roll.

Things have happened that made me reevaluate this blog. More details to come, but today?

Today, you must come over & visit me over at the ever awesome Kim...awesomeness. Dang. Totally failed with that introduction. Anyhow, lets try again.

Kim, from All work and no play make mommy go something something (really long title but - such an awesome blog), asked for guest posters and me being the ever sweet, generous, kind, loving and humble soul that I am...of course offered a helping hand.

She had gall bladder surgery. I know how much that sucks. So I offered to help.

But dingus that I am - forgot to write this post directing you people there...so go there already!

Give me some comment love, then if you've never met her? Give her some comment love. She is an awesome and fierce woman to know.

Seriously.

for you

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Thu, 03 May 2012 22:53:00 +0000

Heres some awesome for ya....

sorry. Been bitten by the funk monster. Can't help with more than this.

ya know

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Mon, 30 Apr 2012 19:29:00 +0000

its just not fair.

I get this horrible disease and just when I start to feel better?

Boom.

I get bipolar 2.

It sucks.

But what sucks more? Is I feel so alone. Like, not that I would want to wish this crazy on anyone - I swear. Its just, I hate that more people don't feel like me.

Or maybe they do and I just dont know about it.

Gah.

I don't know.

I just sit there and get jealous hearing about how people can go about their lives, how people dont get the debilitating anxiety attacks, how people dont get the paranoia I get.

I know that God has me going through this for a reason. And that I will be helping someone in the long run? I know this deep in my heart - but I hate that I hafta go through this.

I just hate that I'm alone in this crazy. And yes, I know that I am not alone - I have you mommas. But? Here? IRL? There's no one. So people look at me with that pathetic look.

That "aww you're such a sick puppy" look. You know that look. I got it today in bible study. I hated it. I was talking about how I have bipolar and how if I didn't go through this, I wouldn't even think twice about helping someone with a mental illness. Everyone in the room gave me that look.

God. Uggh. I know they didn't mean anything by it other than, you poor thing you got all this crap to deal with - but I just felt the pathetic pity.

Am I making sense? I don't know what I'm saying. I'm not even sure.

Just going through a major funk right now.

God.

I hate being like this.

Sorry I just needed to vent. I do get jealous. I am glad no one i know in real life is suffering through this - but still, I hate that I am so alone.

But I guess...I really need to stop looking at it like that. I have the Lord. I need to not rely on people understanding what I am going through. Yeah God allowed me to go through and wont take this from me, but God is the only one who will always be there for me.

God is the only one that will give me the comfort I need. I gotta keep leaning hard on him.

Here's a song I've been holding hard to lately:

Sorry for the rant. Wont be seeing much of me this week. Moving crap I gotta deal with. If you want funny, check out my last post. If not....see you on friday!

men don't listen

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Mon, 30 Apr 2012 01:14:00 +0000

We've seen that pic on pinterest.

The one where....shoo. Here it is...

Source: Uploaded by user via Imperfect on Pinterest

Here is yet another perfect example of how they don't listen:

Now here is my story:

I love my husband.

he is my best friend. Literally, there is no one on earth more perfectly suited for me than him.

I wanna use the word soulmate....but thats just too gushy. Even though its true.

But I ain't gonna lie. He tries my last nerve. Especially when he doesn't listen - and then argues with me.

"Yes, I was listening."

"Obviously not, cause then we wouldn't be having this conversation"

"You know what? how about you just admit you were wrong"

wait.......I could go on. I'll save you the argument that; I am so almost 1000% sure you have constantly, in your own homes.

This phenomenon is not uncommon. But this one time? I almost peed my pants laughing at how this argument turned out. My parents were over having dinner with us. I was in the kitchen preparing to set the table.

Mr. Man: What channel is the Christian music station? (on the TV) Is it channel 538?
Me: Close. Its channel 432
Mr. Man: How is that-? (My dad calls Mr. Man into the other room) You know what...thanks.
Me: No problem.

(started setting the table with my mom)

Mr. Man: (calling from the living room) What channel was it again? 542?
Me: SIGH. I can't with this man. 432, Mr. Man. Channel 4-3-2

(a few minutes later we finally all sit down at dinner)

Mr. Man: by the way you were wrong. It wasn't channel 442.
Me: Hmm. Yeah. I know. Cause I said channel 432.

Yeah. Thats just.......sigh. At least I had an audience this time. He couldn't back out of this one.

You know what's even sadder? My son has started to show signs of this....disease men have.

Monkey: Jooce?
Me: Its on the couch honey
Monkey: (looking at floor, toys, TV) Jooce?
Me: SIGH. You are just like your father

a challenge....for you

noreply@blogger.com (An Imperfect Momma) — Thu, 26 Apr 2012 20:55:00 +0000

Why can't we open up to just one person and say: "You know what? I really am not doing good. I'm hurting."

Why are we so afraid to stand alone?

Source: xoxmateya.tumblr.com via Imperfect on Pinterest

Then you think, pssh, Jessica. I can't be honest. I can't tell people that there are times that are so bleak I want to die. I can't tell people that sometimes all I want to do is stay in bed. I can't tell people that I hate my life. They'll think I'm ungrateful.

Well, they might. Not gonna lie. But you know what? The biggest thought is they might not. They might turn to you and give you the biggest hug. They might call you up on a lonely friday night. Or? Even better - they might say nothing. How is that better? Well, they might just see how you are fighting to live each day...and want to fight themselves. Because they are too weak to talk about it, they won't tell you how they feel the same most days. But they will fight, cause they see you fighting.

So, no. I'm not saying to turn around and tell the whole world. Cause that may not be the way you roll. What am I saying?

Tell someone. Get a support system. No man is an island. Just don't fight this fight alone. I got Mrs. Awesome and Mama C and of course Mr. Man.

Who do you have?

Of course....here is for your giggling pleasure.