I can feel it. . .

The anxiety, creeping in.

I lie in bed, perfectly safe, and the walls close in.  I can't breathe right.  My thoughts are racing, yet it is nothing coherent.  Mental noise, nothing more, but it makes my heart beat faster.

I swallow, trying to catch my breath, and reach for my talisman.  My tree of life necklace that provides such comfort, even though it is a cheap piece of junk from Wal-Mart.  It doesn't matter, at this moment.  I need that necklace.  I grope for it, unable to find it.  Panic sets in.  My mind focuses down, only able to think, Where is it?  I need that necklace.  It's irrational, and some small piece of my brain is trying to tell me that, but the panic is so great that rational thought is drowned out.  I keep grasping, finally entwining my fingers in the chain.

I breathe a sigh of relief, and clutch the circle of metal to my chest.  Now, it will all be okay.  I have my tree. This world is bigger than just me.  I have strong roots in the ground, and my head brushes the clouds.  I am safe.  I am solid.  I am the tree, swaying in the storm, but refusing to break.  My breathing slows.  My pulse begins to even out.  Eventually, after what seems like hours, the panic fades to a memory, and I am exhausted from the effort.  I slip into a deep, dreamless sleep, the talisman still clutched tightly in my hand.  I am still holding it when I awake, hours later.

This has been my world for the past week.  Panic attacks, one after another, for days on end, until I am rendered nearly catatonic from the effort of breathing.  I take a deep breath, and sigh, and call the doctor.

Today, I begin the medication again.  Soon, these feelings will fade again, and I will be able to once again focus on all that is good in my life.  My amazing husband.  My perfectly wonderful son.  Family and friends who help me up every time I fall.  I have a warm home, a safe vehicle, and a bit of spending money to spoil my son.  I am blessed in every way, and in a few weeks, that will become clear again.

For now, I take that little blue pill and wait.

Birthday Questionnaire - Age 3

I found this idea somewhere, and loved it.  We did this pretty close to his birthday, over the course of several days (because he doesn't have near the attention span necessary for this).  And yes, I realize he's been three for over a month, now, but it's been a busy month. Anyhow, most of his answers were pretty predictable.  I love how when he didn't like the question, he just refused to answer it. :)

Enjoy!

Halloween

We had a good one.  Hope you did, too! :)

Sir Miles, ready for trick-or-treating.

Done with house #1, looking for house #2.

Had to get his cute little cape.

Daddy & Miles.

Knock-knock. "Trick or treat!"

Nomming on candy and watching tv.

Definitely a success. :)

Pumpkin Patch

Yesterday morning, Patrick took the day off of work and the three of us headed to the Children's Farm for their Pumpkin Patch.  Our trip began with a hay ride, and included a giant slide, stacks of hay to climb, dried corn to play in, a maze (which Miles LOVED), and a zillion other things.  Not to mention, of course, the pumpkins.

For some reason, the blog decided to upload the pictures in reverse order, so I guess if you want a true accounting of the order of our trip, you could start from the bottom and work your way up. :)

In any case, it was an incredibly fun time, and well worth the time and money.  We will most likely go back again next year.

Waiting for the hay ride with his new pumpkin.

Watching the golf balls go down the ramps.

Daddy had to help him reach the top of the ramps.

Running out of the tunnel.

Climbing stacks of hay with Daddy.

"Ta-da!  I tall!"

Magnetic fishing with Daddy.

Taking a train ride.

One last time on the big slide.

Litany of Cuteness

Because I have a lot of cute things to tell you about, and no time for separate posts. :)

• At lunch on Sunday, Patrick was telling Miles to blow on his chicken fingers to cool them.  Being Patrick, he started explaining that blowing on your food works because of something called forced convection, a physics concept.  Last night at dinner, Miles was blowing on his food.  Patrick said, "That's called forced convection."  Matter-of-factly, Miles said, "I know.  I use physics."
• Every morning for weeks, Miles has woken up and asked for a popsicle for breakfast.  When I tell him no popsicles for breakfast, he sighs deeply and says, "Fine.  Chocolate cereal?" 
• Miles adores giving kisses, but recently, instead of puckering, he makes a fish face and says, "Mmmmmmmm" (until he gets to you) "Waa!"
• Last night at bedtime, I asked Miles if he wanted a baby brother or a baby sister - a girl baby or a boy baby.  He replied, "A girl baby brother that can stop a train."  Um, right. . .
• Miles considers all juice to be "apple juice" and will ask for it as such.  Except this morning when it was actually regular apple juice.  Then, he asked specifically for "fruit juice."
• His favorite new game is to sneak up behind the cat, then jump, throw his arms up and yell, "KITTY!" at the top of his voice.  Then, he giggles and says, "I scare kitty!"  For her part, Nikko is being really good and not clawing him to pieces.
• Speaking of the cat, yesterday, she was sitting on the back of the couch and saw an inviting pile of blankets and pillows.  Being a cat, she oozed down, trying to land in the softness.  Instead, gravity took over and she fell face first into the pillow, scaring herself, then quickly learned that claws do little good in reverse, as she tried to move back up.  Of course, she looked highly offended when we laughed.

Baby

First off, I promise I will post ultrasound pictures at some point.  I'm just lazy and haven't scanned them in, yet.  I promise, though, it looks like a shadowy, more-or-less baby-shaped entity.  :)

Anyhow, we've shown Miles the pictures, and he now understands that it's a picture of a baby.  The first time I showed it to him, I said, "What's that?" and he said, ". . .Whas dat?"  Once I pointed out the nose, belly, and hand, he kinda got it.  Now, when I show him the picture, he says, "Baby!"

Once that was established, I told him, "That's the baby in Mommy's belly!"  To which he responded, "No. Silly!" And giggled.  Because the idea of a baby in Mommy's belly was ridiculous.  We repeated that particular conversation for over a week.

Yesterday, he finally accepted that the baby was in Mommy's belly, so I moved on to the next topic.  "You're going to be a big brother!"  "Big Brother?!?" he said, proudly, sitting up straight and tall.  "Yes!" I said, excited, "You'll be a big brother and help me with the baby.  You'll help me get bottles, and throw away diapers, and get the pacifier.  You'll be a great big brother!"  He looked at me skeptically, then grinned and said, disbelieving, "Noooo."

Later, I asked him if he wanted a baby brother or a baby sister.  He thought for a minute, considering the options, then replied, "A baby."  I tried rephrasing the question, asking if he wanted a girl baby or a boy baby.  He again replied, "A baby."  :)

Even later, we were reading a book, and he was being silly.  He put the book on his head and said, "Is on my head!"  Then, repeated the game with, "Is on my eyes!  Is on my nose!  Is on my tummy!  Is on my baby!"  I laughed and explained that only Mommy had a baby in her belly.  He raised an eyebrow, Spock-like, and said, "Nooo."

In the end, I'm not sure if he really gets it at all, but it certainly is making for some cute conversations. :)

Today, I am the Mom I want to be

Lately, I have had quite a few days where I just don't feel like I'm succeeding.  I am not the mom I want to be. Fun activities are far too easy to put aside for another tv show. We don't bake.  Science experiments get planned, then forgotten.  Learning games often stress me out until I give up, certain that I will make him hate learning (and me) if I continue.  Anxiety makes everything overwhelming.  And the first trimester of pregnancy means that if I'm not panicked, I'm exhausted.  For almost three months, now, I have had more bad days than good.

Today is a good day.

This morning, I woke after a good night's sleep, to a calm, happy child and a clean house (thank God for Stacey, who cleaned it last night).  I made my to-do list, careful to keep it short.  Three things. That was manageable. Laundry, Grocery Shopping, and Getting ready for tonight's performance.  Goals within the realm of possibility.

I sipped my coffee and made a shopping list. I threw in a load of laundry, while Miles played trains in the next room, and folded the clothes I had left sitting in the dryer.  Within minutes, Miles and I moved upstairs to put the clothes away, and I was struck with the urge to clean my dresser to make room for my maternity pants, and my winter clothes.  Miles was still happily playing quietly, so I took the opportunity to tidy up my bedroom a bit, finding homes for things that (I hate to admit) had been on the floor for weeks.  The tidying done, I got dressed, and got Miles ready for the day.  I switched over the laundry and threw in another load, then bundled Miles into the car to go grocery shopping.  It was 10:30, and I'd already done more than I accomplish in a full day, usually.

Our car rides tend to be quiet affairs - Miles loves to stare out the window, and I am generally happy to just listen to music and drive.  Today, however, I left the radio off, and we chatted the whole way, mostly about nonsense.  Miles asked for a story, and I began The Bremen Town Musicians.  It was one of my favorite stories as a kid, but as I began to tell it, I realized I remembered the beginning and the end, but none of the middle.  So, I made it up as I went, and was surprised to find that Miles loved it.  We made animal noises at the top of our voices, and giggled.

At the store, Miles helped by jealously guarding the list, and occasionally allowing me a peek at it.  We talked about every item we picked up, and he insisted on putting everything in the cart.  I realized how rare it is for us to just chat in the grocery store.  I'm usually so anxious that he's going to have a meltdown that I inevitably cause one.  Today, we were relaxed, and the time flew - even the long wait at the checkout went quickly.

As we loaded the car with our things, Miles very clearly asked, "Mommy, eat at Donald's?"  Given the morning we'd had so far, I was in no mood to deny him anything.  I wasn't ready for the fun to end.

We sat in a booth and giggled over his Scooby Doo bucket.  We prayed over our food, and teased each other, pretending to steal french fries and chicken nuggets from one another.  At one point, he leaned over and whispered, "Psst.  Mommy.  Guess what?"  "What?" I asked.  "Love ooo!" he whispered, and gave me a kiss.  And my heart promptly melted into my shoes.

We chatted the whole way home, and he helped me carry in the groceries, before rubbing his eyes and asking for "Nap."  I tucked him in, kissed his cheek, and sang to him, watching his eyes grow heavy.  Holding my hand, he whispered, "Love ooo, Mommy," and drifted off.

And in that moment, I knew that today, above all days, I am the Mommy he deserves.