Too cool for preschool.

I put this photo on Twitter last weekend but here it is again. What? I’m recycling.

The germaphobe in me got out the antibacterial wipes so I could scrub that sucker down before the little hummingbird hopped in.

When I say I scrubbed it down, I mean my hubby did.

What? He’s the one who had the wipes in his pocket and I was too busy chasing the hummingbird.

You could say I was a backseat driver bwaahaha when it came to making sure my hubby wiped down every nook and cranny.

The hummingbird loves cars, especially because of The Wiggles ‘Big Red Car’, and couldn’t wait to get in.

She lasted about 30 seconds and then she wanted outta there.

I dread the day when she’s old enough to start driving. It’s not so much the driving part, it’s that she’ll be 16 but I know my mom will be laughing her ass off because karma’s a bitch.

When I think of the things I did when I was 16, I want to ground myself until I’m 40.

I was living in Los Angeles, had very little supervision from my sperm donor, and loved going to clubs on Sunset Strip in West Hollywood.

Come to think of it, I should ground myself until I’m 60.


The little hummingbird loves to walk around in her rainboots while wearing her footie pajamas in the morning.

For several months I’ve been trying to get a picture but like the elusive Bigfoot, I could never get one of the hummingbird before she ran off. Until this morning.

My daughter wasn’t very happy because she wanted to go downstairs to watch Caillou and mean mommy made her take a picture first.

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What do my mom, a pickaxe, pedicures, and a kitty have in common? I really have no idea.

I was talking to my mom recently and she told me that she had just gotten a pedicure.

When I was younger I would try to do my own nails but I’ll try to cut all of my cuticles and hangnails and I just make things worse. There’s usually blood and pain involved as well as some fuck’s sprinkled in.

So I would think to myself screw it, just go to a nail salon. My nails can be pretty for awhile and I feel RAWR sexaay when my toenails are painted a deep red color.

I got my mom into getting pedicures and whenever she visits, we make time to do that together.

Post-humminbird, I get a pedicure once or twice a year if I’m lucky and my mom goes every month. At first I had to talk her into getting it done because she deserves getting pampered but she would say oh, that’s okay. I don’t need to go but now I’ve created a pedicure monster kidding.

Pre-hummingbird, I didn’t get them that often but since I only had a cat and as long as I got her permission not really (she was very demanding), she was fine with letting me get one if I gave her extra catnip and I would have to agree to let her paw me to death when she was trying to get comfortable on the couch or the bed.

She would paw and paw and paw and I would think just lay the hell down already because when you’re pawing me in the same place for several minutes, it freaking starts to hurt kitty. If I moved a muscle, the whole process would start all over again.

Sometimes after all that pawing, my cat would decide I wasn’t good enough and just hop off.

Nuh Uh! Are you kidding me, kitty?!

Um, Anway….

Around my mid 20’s, I started to feel like the roles between my mom and I reversed.

It’s hard to explain but I’ve gotten more maternal with my mom. I’m sure I’m not the only one that has gone through this role reversal. She’s protective, maternal, and wants what’s best for me and I’m the same with her. So, I guess it’s not really a reversal but it’s early in the morning and I can’t think of a better word to use.

It’s not that she isn’t capable of taking care of herself, she can kick ass, but sometimes I find myself telling her things she used to tell me when I was younger and she’ll say okaaay mom. Kids these days! What are you gonna do?

When my mom was telling me about her pedicure, she said the person doing it accidentally cut the side of her big toe. Then she told me how her big toenail is half dead and the nail tech cut it as short as possible. Being that our roles have reversed, I’ve been trying to convince her to go to the doctor.

Me: Why is your toenail half dead?

My mom: I hit my toe with a pickaxe*.

Me: *picturing my mom dismembering bodies* Why in the hell were you using a pickaxe?

Mom: I was trying to start a garden. *Obviously I don’t really garden but now I want to if I can use a weapon like a pickaxe. I’ll just be sure to wear steel toe boots*

Me: Well, shouldn’t you be aiming for the ground and not your foot? (I get my smartassyness from my mom and I mean that in the best way).

Mom: I was trying to but I was wearing flip-flops and wacked my big toe with the pickaxe.

Me: What?! You were gardening and thought it would be a good idea to swing around a sharp object while wearing flip-flops?

Mom: I know, it was stupid.

Me: Why don’t you go to a doctor? It doesn’t seem right that your toenail isn’t healing and keeps on getting nasty at a certain point. I thought with something like that happening, your nail would’ve fallen off. *shivers* *gags*

Mom: I did see my doctor and they were surprised it didn’t fall off too. They cut it down as much as they could and said it would take some time to heal.

Me: Well, when did you see your doctor about this because maybe you should get it checked out again?

Mom: Hmmm….let me see…it was about 3 or 4 years ago.

Me: WAIT, WHAT?!!!!

Mom: What?

Me: MOM! 3 or 4 years is a long ass time. You need to go again because something’s not right.

Mom: Yeah but I think it needs some more time to heal.

Me: WHAT?! It’s been plenty of time. What if your toe ends up falling off? Then you’ll wish you didn’t wait to see a doctor again.

Mom: My toe isn’t going to fall off.

Me: You never know. Or what if your half dead toenail is a zombie and tries to kill you and then it goes around killing other people? You will have caused killer zombie toenails.

Mom: If my half dead toenail ends up being a zombie and tries to kill me, I have a pickaxe to protect myself.

So what do you think? Should my mom get her zombie toenail looked at again before it causes a zombie toenail apocalypse?

*I thought it was spelled pickax but Google got up in my face and was like, well didn’t you mean “pickaxe”. Fine hoity-toity Google, I’ll spell it your way, you punkass. Google also had to brag and be all pretentious that they found “pickax” in about 430,000 results (0.28 seconds). Google, I wouldn’t brag about being so fast if you get my meaning.

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The time when my in-laws invited themselves to my sister’s wedding and she wanted to kill me and then my mom ended up wanting to kill them only 2 hours after being in their presence.

After writing my recent post about my in-laws, it reminded me of my in-laws coming to my sister’s wedding.  It also made me think of how my mother-in-law ruined my own wedding but I’ll write that novel some other time.

When I went back to read this post, my in-laws didn’t seem as bad as what they’re really like. Also, my mom was telling me less than an hour ago that she keeps checking her email for my sister’s wedding post and asked me what the deal was so I had to rush this. I told her I was taking a break and she was like What do you mean?….You can’t stop blogging!…. Are you quitting your blog?!…You can’t do that!

I said No mom, I just wanted a little break. It’s only been 2 days since my last post. Don’t worry.

I have no idea where in the world I get my high anxiety genes come from. ;^)

Okay, so let’s get down to business.

My in-laws live about 6 hours from my sister and stepdad. My stepdad isn’t technically my stepdad anymore since my mom and him are no longer together.

I still call him my dad but it’s all confusing and I would need to write another post that would involve some Melrose Place shit because I’d have to include my sperm donor. My mom moved away but now she’s back in the same area as my sister and stepdad.

Since I worry that my in-laws will somehow find my blog, which is why I don’t use my hubby and daughter’s real names here although I sometimes do when I comment on other blogs, I don’t want to write the state where they live so instead I’ll just say they live where President Kennedy was shot.

No, not the exact location…smartass. heh. It’s not like they have a tent set up on the grassy knoll but I could see them doing something weird like that. My family lives in a different state but it’s still close seeing as how it’s only a 6 hour drive.

I can’t remember exactly what my sister said when I told her the in-laws wanted to go to her wedding but it was a good thing I asked her over the phone. After asking her and talking a bit, my sister finally and very reluctantly said they could come.

It was pretty much like What the @$#%! There’s no way I want those $%^&$#@ #$%@! at my $#@!%#$ wedding. Ugh! #$%$#@# fine. They can %^$#@#! come as long as I don’t see that much of their $%^&#$% faces. %#!$%$#@ thanks a lot, sis.

As you can see, my sister took it pretty well. Since I’m not using my sister’s real name, I had asked her what she wants me to use when I told her I’m writing this and she told me Alotta Fagina. So, there you go sis. Now get a damn computer so you can read this.

My husband and I were living in Southern California back then and he was stationed in San Diego. Maybe my common sense doesn’t have any sense to it but because we were going to Alotta Fagina’s wedding *giggles*, we were flying from San Diego to where my sister lived the day before the wedding. As usual my in-laws made it so much more fucking complicated than it needed to be.

My hubby was being deployed soon and at first we didn’t even know if he would be able to go because he was on a ship and had a lot to do at work to prepare for deployment since he was the Supply Officer. The wedding was on a Saturday and he worked his ass off so he could get off on Friday so we could fly out.

The in-laws had assumed we were flying from SD to where they lived and planned to have the four of us drive those 6 hours together. I’ve been in a car with them for several hours before, the whole time thinking Help Me!, and I would have rather jumped out of a moving car than had to have been inside with them. They also knew that my hubby was in a time crunch but they still wanted us to fly where they live a few days before the wedding.

I get them wanting to spend time with their son but they had just visited us and this whole trip was about going to my sister’s wedding. I know when the little hummingbird grows up NOOOOOO!!!!! and moves away I’ll want to see her every chance I get but if she’s going to the wedding of her husband’s (or wife’s) sibling and even if it’s nearby, I wouldn’t invite myself. My in-laws could give a flying leap about my sister’s wedding and since that was obvious, it made me feel stabby.

They did this same kind of thing last summer when we were moving from the D.C. area to Northern California and I got a chance to see my stepdad and sister, along with her kids (you can read about that here). I hadn’t seen them in over 3 years but my in-laws, that had recently visited us for the hummingbird’s first birthday, invited themselves. They have a lot of time to go wherever they want and the means to do so but my family doesn’t so it sucks that they do this.

I think the in-laws emailed the plans for us to fly down to see them for a few days and my hubby had to call them for the eleventy billionth time to tell them we can’t do that. It’s so hard for him to say no to them because he doesn’t want to hurt their feelings but he reminded them that we’re just flying from SD straight to where my sister lives.

That’s when one of them suggested us flying out Thursday night to where they live, after my hubby spent a tiresome day at work. I thought you’ve gotta be kidding me?! They really don’t get it even if you spell it out for them. Finally my hubby had to be firm with them and said we’ll meet them at the hotel on Friday before Alotta Fagina’s rehearsal dinner.

After dealing with all of the phone calls and emails because they kept on pressuring us to visit them before the wedding, I was emotionally exhausted. My hubby and I flew out on Friday and met the in-laws at the hotel. It was an hour or so before the dinner and I just wanted to relax and watch some hotel room porn television but they wanted to go see the sights. Uhh, there really isn’t anything to see where my sister lives.

She doesn’t live in Footloose, USA anymore and lives in an even smaller town with just a few hundred people. The “big” city nearby isn’t that big but the in-laws insisted on going out to see the sights which pretty much meant looking at fields of grass and cows. From the start my mother-in-law had an attitude with me. She always seems to think if my hubby disagrees with her, like he did when it came to this whole trip, it’s because of me which isn’t true.

My MIL knew that I didn’t know much about the area where we were but she kept on treating me like I was their tour guide and would get pissy because I wouldn’t know where things were.

By the time we got to the restaurant for the rehearsal dinner, I was so done with my in-laws and looked forward to being around other people. With the exception of my mom, sister, stepdad, and the groom, I didn’t know anyone else at the dinner. I’m painfully shy around strangers but once I get to know someone I never shut the hell up so I was mostly listening to others in the group, about 15 or so people and that’s just a guesstimate.

My MIL expected me to introduce her to everyone but I didn’t know who they were so she got even more pissy with me. After dinner, everyone was out in the parking lot talking with each other and some were thinking about going out somewhere else and there were a few different ideas being tossed around. I didn’t mind where we went, plus I was hoping the in-laws wouldn’t want to go.

Everyone was standing around together, talking and having a good time. That’s when my mother-in-law turned to me and said Well, don’t just stand there being useless and tell us what we’re going to do.

The group went quiet and looked at us. You could hear a pin drop and I could tell people were like WTF? I don’t remember what I said but I know I was so much nicer to her than what she deserved. I think I just asked her what would she like to do.

My MIL countinued to be bitchy to me in front of everyone. I felt humiliated and was so embarrassed. I know she should have been the one who was embarrassed by her behavior but that will never happen.

I ended up just going back to the hotel instead of with the others, hoping to decompress but naturally my in-laws wanted to hang out in our hotel room. The next day my in-laws wanted to get up bright and early to see more of the non-existent sights in the area and they insisted my hubby go along. I was annoyed because I wanted my husband to be with me and my family before the wedding since that’s what we had planned.

My mom picked me up at the hotel and she was furious with my MIL, like wanting to rip her head off furious. She told me that she was shocked and so were the others in the group about the way my MIL talked to me. My FIL and hubby don’t usually seem to notice her behavior and I think it’s because they’re just so used to it. I’ve been dealing with her for 16 years but I’ll never be used to it.

I wasn’t around for this but my sister told me that my in-laws came up to her and her new hubby after the ceremony to congratulate them. The problem? Alotta Fagina was talking to her hubby’s friend and the in-laws didn’t know that wasn’t her hubby. Another thing my sister told me is something my MIL did to her hubs.

At the reception there was the wedding cake but Alotta’s hubby really wanted a chocolate cream pie that his grandmother made for him. He was trying to get to the pie before it was all gone and he was able to get the last piece. As he was walking back to the table, my MIL walked right up to him and said that’s my piece, right? then took his plate from him before he could say anything.

It’s safe to say they ended up pissing off plenty of people that weekend with their antics. It’s really more of my mother-in-law but my FIL can make people crazy with his endless conversations that are usually one-sided. I think people who’ve been raised by wolves have better manners than my mother-in-law.

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If I knew cooking could be this fun, I would have been doing this a long time ago. And other ramblings.

I know I said I was going to post about my in-laws inviting themselves to my sister’s wedding but this isn’t it. That is almost finished but while I was writing it, life happened.

I hate to sound all cryptic but there’s something going on with my family and it’s all fucked up but I can’t really say what it is right now. It has nothing to do with me, the hubby, or the little hummingbird though.

I keep on thinking this depression I’m going through is getting better and then I’ll realize it’s not even close, especially since it’s not being treated because my asshole doctor is against using meds. Still trying to find a solution for it. I’m at the point where anything makes me cry. I could spill something, break a nail, anything.

So, now with this thing going on with someone in my family, I feel like if you were able to look inside my head, you would see that scene from the movie WarGames where Matthew Broderick sets off a missile strike when he stupidly thinks he’s only playing a video game on his computer, the people are running around like wtf, and there’s that blaring alarm.

If you were too young to see that movie or not even born yet, please, for the love of all things chocolate, don’t let me know.

Since I’m so wound up, I’ve been having almost daily panic attacks. Yay me! The other night when I was having one, I was on the computer trying to find something to distract me.

That’s when I came across My Drunk Kitchen. I’ve been trying to cook more often, here here and here, but it never crossed my mind to drink while cooking. I’m so disappointed and ashamed that I didn’t think of it sooner. sniff.

*Updated to add another awesome video.

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I had a temporary moment of insanity and invited my in-laws to visit.

I totally blame the migraine meds I was on when I invited them to visit.

I was having a migraine and when I take the medication, it makes me loopy and sleepy but I also have another one I take for nausea since I’m a strober (is that even a word? let’s just say it is.) so it’s like having my own personal rave on the side of my right eye and it makes me really nauseous.

Apparently my right eye hasn’t caught up with the times so it doesn’t know that raves aren’t cool anymore or maybe they are but it just shows how uncool I am. I went to several raves when I was younger but it probably doesn’t count because when I say I went to several raves what I really mean is I was watching the movie Go.

When I take the two meds together, I want to go around hugging everyone while singing Pat Benatar’s We Belong at the top of my lungs. Too bad Timothy Olyphant doesn’t come looking for me because I ripped him off like in the movie. *sad face*

To make a short story really fucking long, when I take my migraine meds, it makes me feel like I’m back in high school when my boyfriend and I would leave campus for lunch break and walk across the street to uh, ahem, have a little herbal refreshment. I had English class after lunch and my English teacher would always like us to read everything out loud in front of the class.

I always effing hated that or when on the first day of class the teacher would make you stand up, introduce yourself, and either say what you hope to get out of the class duh, an A, or make you say five things about yourself.

Whenever my English teacher would be looking at my classmates to decide on who to pick to read aloud, I would always slide down in my seat because obviously that makes you invisible. She never seemed to call on me unless it was on the days my boyfriend and I would enjoy something herbal and it wasn’t that often we did. You’re probably thinking yeah right but really we didn’t because we broke up and he pulled a dick move.

He was being an ass and I tried to break up with him but he wrote me love letters where he would apologize for his asshole behavior and would tell me how he can’t imagine living without me. He even had his best friend talk to me, so I got back together with him. Then two days later that asshole broke up with me in a letter he had one of his friends give me. His best friend that told me to take him back. Asshole. Both of them. Of course we’re (the ex-boyfriend) Facebook friends now. Damn Facebook.

Anyway, the times my English teacher had me read aloud and I was um, having an herbal moment, I would be reading and then think oh shit I think I’m reading too slow or too fast and then words would just sound really funny to me so I would start giggling. Yeah. I think she let it slide since I was a good student, at least when it came to English and writing but don’t ever ask me to do a math problem because I’ll cut you. One day when I was extra giggly, she asked me to stay after class for a minute.

I was in a state of mind where I wasn’t too worried and was preoccupied with having the munchies but started getting a little nervous and that’s when she asked me if I had been drinking. I was able to look at her and honestly say No, of course not.

Flash forward to the present, Lost style.

As I was laying in bed feeling like I was going to die, the meds started kicking in and that’s when I had the most genius idea ever.

I thought to myself, I haven’t seen the in-laws in over 2 months and they really should come to visit. As much as my in-laws drive me insane, I would never keep them from seeing their son and the little hummingbird. Dammit. So I put up with my MIL talking to me like I’m stupid and being insulting and then share it all for your enjoyment. Your welcome.

Before I had more time to think this insanity over, I went downstairs to tell my hubby that he should ask his parents to visit and as soon as I said it, I thought m$@#^% f&*%!@! Oh, and just so you know, I gave up on calling them since last summer because it’s too freaking weird.

You can’t just call them up and say hey, how’s it going. Both my MIL and FIL have to be on the phone when you talk to them and if one isn’t home, you have to call back. There have been times I’ve called and have been able to just talk to my MIL but that’s only when I knew my FIL was at work but the same doesn’t apply to my hubby so he isn’t able to talk to them separately. Also, they both write notes when you’re talking to them and will stop you and reread something back or ask you how to spell something if they don’t know it and sometimes you can hear them writing or flipping through their notes. *enter Twilight Zone music*

I can understand having to write something down because I get mommy brain and can easily forget but I’ve seen their phone notes and they each have several folders of this stuff. They do outlines of conversations like they were listening to someone give a lecture.

The students where my hubby teaches have a 5 week break and when he told me, I assumed he had a break too. Then my hubby told me that he doesn’t have any time off, it’s just the students, and to that I say boooo! But he does have a little more flexibility in his schedule and that’s why I thought it would be a good time for his parents to visit since they suck the life out of us so at least my hubby would be able to take a day off if he needed to.

But then I realized I had an easy out.

The in-laws are going on a two-week cruise in another country. I won’t say where but it rhythms with Germany my sincere apologies to the Germans. If you see a man talking non-stop about trees and a woman trying to add to her already enormous collection of live turtles, that’s them.

The cruise got delayed so by the time they get back, there will be less than a week left of my hubby’s flexible schedule. They’re also going to a cousin’s daughter’s wedding right after the cruise to irritate them and since they’ll be exhausted, they’re going to wait and visit us later on. When? I don’t know but I’m sure it will be at a really inconvenient time.

What am I saying?! When they visit, it’s always inconvenient.

My in-laws going to a wedding of people they have little contact with made me think of how they invited themselves to my younger sister’s wedding. This is also what sets off my sweet mom and gets her feeling stabby whenever she thinks about it because even though she heard several stories about the way my MIL treats me, my mom never actually saw it for herself until my sister’s wedding.

I know this post is practically a novel already so I will post about that in a few days. Stay tuned….

*Update. Due to the crazy ass effed up things that have happened this week, which you’ll know about soon enough, I’ll get my sister’s wedding post finished by the beginning of next week. Sowwy!

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Sword fighting and evil pantyhose? You’ve come to the right place.

I loved the show, Six Feet Under, and actually didn’t start watching it until the last season back in 2005. So while watching the last season, I was also catching up with the previous ones and was in a SFU trance for a couple of weeks.

I still watch it since they play it a few times a week on one of the 10,000 HBO channels that we have. One of my all time favorite scenes was when Claire did the pantyhose song.

I think pantyhose are spawned from satan so when I saw this scene, I thought it was the best thing ever.

Here are a few others….

I can feel like this a few times a day:

The same year, I fell in love with the Canadian show, Slings & Arrows. I love the crazy and the quirkiness of it. My hubby was away on a 6 month deployment and these shows were like a security blanket for me while he was gone.


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It’s not all rainbows and unicorns although sometimes I wish it was but it would get annoying and be really stinky having unicorn poop everywhere.

My hubby and I are no longer wanting to rip each other to shreds. Yay for that! Still, when the zombie apocalypse comes, I’ll probably make a run for it after I push him into a crowd of brain eaters. Better him than me. Yep, I’m totally wife of the year.

This thing between me and him (him and I?) was just a bump in the road and I really appreciate all the comments. It helps to know I’m not alone.

Even though everything’s fine now, that doesn’t mean he’s never going to drive me crazy again, says Mr. Obvious. heh. In fact he can drive me crazy on a daily basis.

You know how when you’re with someone for any period of time, there are things they can do that drive you up the wall but then when you tell somebody about it, it can sound petty and then you might feel like a dork, like I did? Really though, it can be difficult to know how it is unless you’re in the other person’s shoes.

A few of the reasons I tend to overshare when I write is I feel like it helps me and I also hate to think that other people in similar situations might be feeling inadequate, for lack of a better word. It sucks to feel like you’re alone.

I want to thank everyone for leaving recipes that my little girl and I can try. I’m still planning on putting up a new page with these recipes but I’ve been really preoccupied. I promise when I have time, I’ll get to it.

Here’s the thing. Last week I found out what an asshole my primary doctor is when it comes to my depression so my hubby and I have been trying to find a solution because the insurance we have is a pain in the ass and they screw over doctors by not wanting to pay them. Several providers in our area, including my daughter’s pediatrician that she never even got a chance to see, have been dropping like flies because they don’t want to deal with our insurance.

I still have my primary doctor, unfortunately, and he refuses to even have me on an anti-depressant so he’s been making it harder than it should be to see a psychiatrist and get help for my anxiety and depression.

In the past, I’ve experienced depression, anxiety, and panic attacks for different reasons.

What’s so ironic is that this time around the reason I’ve been feeling like this is because of fucking doctors. I had less than desirable and very frustrating prenatal care, several medical interventions and a traumatic experience with my labor and delivery, my daughter ending up in the NICU and the feelings involved with that, and another traumatic experience just a week after my daughter came home from the NICU.

When the hummingbird was four weeks old, we were told by a doctor after he saw her blood work that it’s likely she has Leukemia. It’s so hard to put into words what that experience was like. My husband and I had to wait 5 days for the results after we brought her in for more blood work and it was pure hell.

As we were leaving the hospital in a total state of shock, this doctor told us to have a great weekend. We gave him an “Are you fucking kidding me??!” look. We went to the hospital after those 5 agonizing days and basically got a “Whoops, my bad” in doctor speak. I know mistakes can happen but I wanted to kill the guy.

We had very little if any communication with doctors when it came to all of these issues and there were several other incidents involving incompetent doctors so my dislike for them has turned into hatred.

I know that people have been through much worse and I should just be happy that I have a healthy child but all of these things have been building up inside me for the past couple of years. I’ve been thinking more and more about having a second baby so with everything I went through the first time around, I get extremely anxious and worry about what could happen the second time around. It’s needless worry and irrational but that’s what anxiety is.

There were times after I had my daughter when I thought I might have post partum depression but I believe it’s post traumatic stress.

Right now I feel so fucked over by my doctor and it’s the last thing I needed after going through so much over the past 3 years.

The other shitty thing is I was wanting to change my primary doctor but since my insurance is being such a dickhead, there aren’t any primary docs accepting new patients.

I’ve spent several months trying to handle my anxiety and depression on my own since the anti-depressants I’ve been on in the past have made me sick so I’ve been taking homeopathic remedies, eating healthier, having Jillian Michaels kick my ass by doing her exercise dvd’s and so on. Going on medication was my last resort. Well, now I’m there.

Thanks to a bloggy friend, I know of a medication that I haven’t tried before and I’m hoping to get on it as soon as all this doctor and insurance bullshit hopefully gets sorted out. I’m also still trying to find a psychologist to go to but my insurance has made that really difficult too.

If it wasn’t for my daughter, I would be in bed all day crying. I know I write about her tantrums, bedtime battles, and the frustrations of motherhood but I am so lucky to have my little hummingbird. She is the love of my life.

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