That time

(This could be a long post, and it's very honest, so judge me all you want.)

Sometimes I call my children pancakes.

And I say that because sometimes I feel like it.  Cody was our first pancake which I usually under cook or burn.  And his second year of life, I felt like I burned that crap out of him.  Poor guy.

Last summer I call the dark ages.  It wasn't that great for me.  Not in the Whoah as me business, but that I was struggling as a young Mom.  When Cody was a baby, I was SMITTEN with being a mother.  Our cuddles and giggles, occasional blow out diapers, going on walks together.  Things of that nature.  Then he turned 1 and learned how to walk, and get into stuff, and push buttons, and climb, and run away from me.  AND AND AND.  Holy Hannah he was a busy busy body.  His tantrums started at age 1, not 2, 1.  Then we got pregnant with Trey shortly thereafter.  I was thinking they would be best buddies (and they are...now..).  

Trey's whole pregnancy I was moooooooody.  I felt like crap but had to be alert enough to care for Cody.  We lived on the third floor of an apartment complex.  If we went anywhere, it felt like hiking a damn mountain.  Around 28 weeks when I would hike the stairs I would get braxton hicks contractions.  (Think about it, Cody was 30 lbs and there were like 100 stairs).

Then we moved before we had Trey.  Trey was born a few months later.  Cody was a very busy child.  Into everything, and I mean everything constantly.  Plus he wasn't even two, so listening was out the window.  Trey's nursing started going downhill but I would NOT give into formula (hindsight I wish I had).  So life with 2 kids under two is busy and we all know it.  

Then we thought, let's buy a house!  We can now.  And then I thought let's potty train Cody!  And get a new calling!  And continue nursing this baby in pain.  House hunting with 2 kids is EXHAUSTING.  House after house, in and out of the car 10 times on your saturdays.  PLUS Cody was potty training, so the constant worry of accidents hung heavy on my mind.  

We got our house!  YAY!  Then I felt anxious.  Could we really do this finacially?  It's a big step.  Moving alone was a PAIN in the butt.  They day we moved I woke up with about 6 cold sores spread across my mouth and chin (they are stress induced).  People kept saying "aren't you so excited to be moving into a house!?" and all I thought was "Not really...".  I was stressed to the max and scared to death that we made the wrong choice.  6 months in we'd probably go broke, run outta money, lose our home, be on the streets.  I was very worried.  

The following Monday after the move Kevin started one of the worst construction seasons ever.  He was gone from 4 p.m. til 8 a.m. then be back at work at 2 pm for a meeting, come home and eat then be gone by 7 pm.  Over and over and over and over.  Sundays and everything.  Meanwhile Cody would have accidents everytime he got in trouble for anything.  Time out= Pee his pants.  Every time.  He also would no longer stay  in his big boy bed.  Ever.  I think I counted putting him back in his bed 24 times one night.  Which ended in a sweaty tear battle.  I was ready to kill someone. I couldn't decide if the boys should room together?  Or not?  Cody would wake Trey on purpose, Trey would wake Cody.  It was horrible.  

One day Cody had my old belt from high school.  The bottle cap one with the seat belt?  You know the one.  He was swinging it around and hit my in the mouth with the buckles.  I saw red.  I was ready to kill him.  My mouth filled with blood as I screamed and screamed.  Threw him in his room.  And LOST IT.  He then as previous said, peed his pants all over the carpet.  AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Shortly after this (and some encouragement and love from others) I got medical help.  I wanted to kill my kids all the time.  You throw that toy you are DEAD MEAT!  Anything would just set me off.  My throat would feel raw at the end of the day from screaming.  My jaw was sore from being clenched.  I am sure my blood pressure was through the stinking roof.  It was just bad.

Seeing a doctor was much much harder for me.  I had to admit that I had problems.  Anti depressants?  I am not depressed.  Anxiety?  That's just something people make up, or so I thought.  After doing some research I clearly realized I had anxiety.  And probably had for most of my life.  I thought I just worried heavily.  No.  I also would get sad occasionally and then try to "tough it out" and then those suppressed feelings turned to anger.  I was angry that I would get sad.  And who could blame me?

So the cycle went.  Cody or Trey would do something a toddler would do.  I would EXPLODE in anger, then came the guilt, then came the saddness.  Over and over and over.

The doctor gave me some antidepressants and told me to come back in 3 months for a check up.  At first all I would do was yawn.  YAWN all day.  (side effect).  My dreams became very very vivid.  And then my body got used to them and I felt normal.  Or more normal.  Although having to actually take pills to be normal depressed me.  I felt calm.  Certainly didn't fix anything but it helped.  I myself had to recognize my anger and get it under control.

I had Kevin give me a priesthood blessing.  And I just cried and cried.  

Fast forward to a year later.

I am doing 100 times better in controlling the anger.  Although I am pretty sure these drugs are causing weight gain.  I run 15-20 miles a week.  I ride my bike, I have two busy little boys, I eat healthy.  And yet the lbs keep coming.  So far only 10-15 but seriously.  It's annoying as hell.  

I tell you this story to put myself out there.  I know I am not the only mother that has lost it with a child.  I am not the only one that needs help.  I am not the only one that needs to just simply say to a spouse when they walk in the door 'I need a break.  I just need away from them.' and go.  Realize when I am at my breaking point and put myself in a time out.  

I really really pray that Cody won't remember how much yelling and spanking was happening.  He still seems to love me :)  And I pray that whenever we have another child that I won't get to that dark place again.  Thank you, if you read this far, for listening to my story.

Have you felt this way?

Do you need to seek help?

Are you wanting to have kids really close in age? (don't do it! lol, jk.)

Talk to me.