"Grüne Treppe - Green stairs" by dolorix @flickr.com
Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.
~Martin Luther King Jr.~
Friday Soother 02.18.11: Martin Luther King Jr. goes up some stairs
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Monthly Archives: February 2011
Postpartum Voice of the Week: @HeatherColeman’s Ignite DC speech
Ignite is an awesome concept. They organize gatherings which give ordinary people like you and me just 5 minutes to get up in front of a bunch of people with the goal of “igniting” them to action.
Not too long ago, Heather Coleman shared her story anonymously over at Katherine Stone’s blog, Postpartum Progress. Heather’s story is intense as it involves details of a Psychotic Break. But it’s also inspiring because people stopped to help her as she struggled during the darkest moments of her life.
I am glad Heather has grown bolder in sharing her story as it is an important story to share. I applaud the courage it took to get up in front of a room full of strangers to tell her story.
Thank you for walking to the front of that room, Heather. Thank you for sharing your journey with them. And with us. You rock.
Go watch her amazing video here. But first, get some Kleenex.
Whatever Wednesday: The Case of the Shanghai’d Shrimp
Since a few days before New Years, I have been working very hard at losing weight and getting into shape. I’m happy to report I have lost 20 pounds and am still going strong. I have a long road ahead of me but I have no doubt that I will get to my goal one day. Going back to where I was is simply not an option.
As part of this venture to get healthy, we have been eating a lot of Lean Cuisine meals. They’re affordable, quick, and easy. With three kids around, it’s very important to keep things affordable, quick, and easy. They’re all absolutely delicious too. Lean Cuisine has a new product line out called “Market Creations.” These steam right in the bag and up until Sunday, they have been hands down my favorite meals from Lean Cuisine. (FYI, no, there is no give-away and no, I’ve not been compensated. But you’ll figure that out in a minute.)
Sunday night I sat down to chow down on a new Market Creation, Shanghai Shrimp. Luscious Shrimp, udon noodles, spices, green and yellow pepper strips and we’re talking heaven. Things went horribly wrong with this one though. Horribly & wickedly wrong. And then Arcade Fire blinded me.
The following is the actual letter I whipped up and sent off to Lean Cuisine via their Customer Contact page at their website.
Enjoy!
Thrilled to finally see Shanghai Shrimp Market Creations at my local Kroger, I snagged it and brought it home with me along with a surprise picnic meal for my kids.
My kids had a blast, I let them run, play, scream, go crazy. They did so to the fullest. I rested easy in knowing I had my yummy Shanghai Shrimp waiting for me.
Finally, the kids went to bed once Daddy got home with our eldest after their night out. Bedtime was tougher than usual. But I rested easy. Shanghai Shrimp would save me.
I popped the bag in the microwave, punched in the required 5:30 and began the wait. I cracked open a beer. A delicious waft of Asian flavors soared through the air, both tempting and soothing me. Finally. BEEEEEEP.
Ahhhhh.
I grabbed a bowl, poured the heavenly Shangai Shrimp in and headed to the living room with my dinner and beer, sitting down to watch the Grammys.
But wait … what is this? It’s gummy. Gritty. Fleshy… Oh no.. it can’t be… an uncooked shrimp! Are there more? Has my Shrimp been Shanghai’d?
Alas, there were more. Two at least for a total of three uncooked shrimp.
What had gone wrong? I followed the instructions. I laid the bag down ever so carefully with the proper side facing up.. left it in the microwave for the recommended amount of time.
Sadly, I made the decision to share my Shanghai Shrimp with our trash can, wailing and gnashing my teeth the whole way.
I snatched my Thai Chicken Lean Cuisine from the freezer, the one that was to be my lunch tomorrow. It now awaits me in the microwave.
My beer is warmer.
And I am sadder, left with a stomach and tongue craving Shanghai Shrimp.
I do not know if I will ever recover. I know one thing for sure. I will never buy Shanghai Shrimp again, no matter how much my poor tongue and stomach beg me to do so.
Just talking Tuesday: 15 minutes for YOU
Yesterday during #PPDChat, I issued a challenge to fellow chatters as we shared our struggles with Parenting through Postpartum.
Every day this week, take just 15 minutes for you. Then tweet about what you did with those 15 minutes using the #PPDChat hashtag.
Your 15 minutes does not have to be all together. It can be spread out in 5 minute increments as one chatter said she often did.
Your time does not have to stop at 15 minutes either. It can keep going and going and going….
If you can’t get in 15 minutes total, try for at least 10.
Today, I took the long way home from Bible Study. The sky was a fantastic blue, complete with puffy white clouds dispersed throughout. Even Pandora cooperated, blasting out some classic tunes. I felt myself continuing to relax.
After lunch, I played around on our Wii. Not exercising, just playing. I never do that.
Once we had the kiddos in bed, I sat and read a book until I fell asleep. Again, I can’t remember the last time I fell asleep while reading a book. Not that the book wasn’t good, I was just that tired.
I spent more than 15 minutes on myself today and it totally rocked.
How much time did you spend on yourself today? What did you do with those minutes?
Any plans for tomorrow’s 15 minutes?
Tell us!
A Valentine’s for Postpartum Depression
Dear Postpartum Depression:
When I first laid eyes on you, I’ll admit, I wanted to run away. But I couldn’t. Instead I found myself lashed to the couch, unable to move.
You scared me with your moodiness, your dark huddling corner filled with horrific thoughts.
I hated you.
You made me a horrible person, filled me with a guilt which could not be contained by anywhere on Earth. You questioned every little thing I did, filled even the most simple of actions with doubt.
And I let you do it.
I let you make me believe I was imperfect. That I had failed. That I sucked. I was inferior. You made me feel inferior.
And I let you.
I gave my consent and I let you.
But then, oh, then.
The day came.
I woke up and saw what you had done to my life. To me. To my husband. To my children.
It had to stop.
You weren’t going to get my kids.
So I took a deep, sharp breath.
I called for help as you went hunting for newer mothers on whom you could prey.
I found help. Finally.
Step by step, fistful of dirt after another, I climbed out of the hole in which you had buried me long ago.
The first rays of sunlight washed over my face. I could smell the grass. See beautiful bright flowers. Hear the birds chirping.
Oh how I reveled in that day. Reveled.
But then…
then you shoved me back into my dirty, dank, and dirty hole, refusing to let me stay in my sunshine.
Once again, I took a deep, sharp breath and fought my way back to the top.
I need to see the flowers. I needed to feel warm sunshine on my face. I needed the rain to rinse you away.
As I surfaced, storm clouds brewed in the distance, the sky grumbling. I knew I had angered you. But I no longer cared. I stood up strong and brave on the greenest grass I had ever seen. You raced toward me, determined to knock me down again. I still stood strong. Even when you knocked me down, I got back up. Every time.
For you see, I am not alone.
I have God. He knows how big my storms are. Do you know how big He is?
I have friends who will not let me falter. I have an amazing husband who will bolster me when I need it the most.
I have love. I have knowledge.
Even more dangerously, I know I can beat you because I have done it before.
Even if you’re not Postpartum, I know you’ll be back. I know you will always hunt me. I stand ready to kick your ass time and again.
Bring.It.On.
This Valentine is not for you, you vain prick.
It’s for the myriad of women who have stood in the same place I have and not known how to fight back or that they could even fight back. You can fight back. You can win. You’re not alone. So many of us who have fought back are right there with you, beating Postpartum back for you until you can do it all on your own.
You are loved, always.
