Le Sigh. And better.

Riight. So hello again. Where to even begin.

Things are better here. And when I say better I mean I haven't curled up in a ball and slept in the corner of the spare bedroom for months. Baby steps people. I cannot believe the force with which post-partum has absolutely turned my life upside down. I mean really. I always kind of figured that I'd struggle with it as I've battled depression/anxiety for most of my life but you know there are drugs and doctors and diet coke and chocolate therapy available now, so I didn't think it would be all THAT traumatic. I am a dumbass.

We're nine months out now and things are finally looking up. The meds I'm on work reasonably well and we'll keep tweaking them I'm sure for months, but I can now handle being in the same room with my toddler without bringing on a full-blown panic attack. And I'm even able to play with her. And like it. I know, rockstar.

But for months I have to say that wasn't possible and just the fact that I can look at my children without fear wrapping itself around my heart is a big step. I do wonder from time to time if I'll ever be the same again, but after having kids who is really?

And....

I have help. We hired an au-pair. I know. Say it out loud and let the implications just roll off your tongue. Showering every day. Exercise. Making dinner with an extra set of hands that are NOT trying to blow up the house by playing "chef" with the knobs on the stove. And I've started teaching again. I've taught violin lessons for years and years, but since moving to Virginee I'd kind of let it go. Now I teach for a couple hours (depending on the day) in the afternoon and am able to bring in a little extra flow in the process--along with doing something that I'm good at and love. It's a win. A really big one. I've also started playing more weddings and events. My last "gig" was at the Supreme Court and I played for four justices. Antonin Scalia even came over to flip through our music and chat. Bah!! You: yawn. Me: AWESOME!

Soooo.... lest we think that we're getting too fancy and out of touch with mothering not to worry. I was pooped on twice in the tub last week. That's right poo. Claire likes to tub with momma and apparently I am the nasty whisperer because OMG it keeps happening! In fact there's crap on my pants right now. (too much defecation talk?) Le Sigh. So yeah, life's kept on a rollin but it seems that we've found a way to make it manageable for our family. And I'm happy. And it's nice.