My Dark PPD Secret

I’ve seen atrocities committed against animals in my day and I’m not talking about on TV. I’ve been in the lower level of a two story barn that had horses in manure up to their knees, manure built up so high they could not lift their heads or they would hit it on the ceiling. Horses who have spent their entire lives starving in a stall of manure who have never seen sunlight.
I’ve snuck around property in the dead of night to film horses and dogs, skin and bones, eating insulation from a mobile home because there was nothing else to eat so that we would have enough evidence for a judge to grant a warrant for removal.
I’ve cried tears over animals we couldn’t save despite our best efforts because we rescued them from hell too late.
Having spent years fighting against the cruelty to animals and the pathetic laws we have to punish animal abusers, I should have caught it sooner. I should have realized something was wrong with me when I could not control my temper for the smallest infraction of my dogs.
I excused myself over and over because it is true that the more advanced my son progresses, the more my dogs act out for attention, but that doesn’t excuse my behavior. I have cried and begged my husband to get rid of the dogs because I don’t want my son growing up thinking its okay to abuse animals. I’m embarrassed that I have stood on my porch screaming at my dogs knowing the neighbors can hear me. I’m ashamed that I have struck out at them, kicking them away as they swarm in like vultures for the smallest amount of food my son drops. I’m horrified at my negative feelings toward them, the hatred I feel towards these creatures who only want love and affection.
I look in the mirror at the end of the day and I see a monster. How could my son possibly love this ghastly face that stares back at me? And still I would feel uncontrollable rage building up in my chest like bile as my son fights sleep and the dogs bark at every shadow jerking his eyes awake once again. I know its wrong, but it’s like watching me from outside my body as I pick up a crate with a dog huddled inside it and throw the whole thing out on the porch in the cold and rain. These pampered pooches that have ruled their kingdom and known basic discipline are now subject to the wrath of an ogre.
When I leave the house and drop off my son at daycare, I cry and sob because I want to hug my dogs and give them treats and for a few days we are good. I play in the floor with them and give them extra time in the yard. Then Cody (who is obsessive with licking Matthew in the face) accidentally knocks Matthew down as he tries to eat the crumbs directly from his mouth. As my son begins to cry the ire of the banshee emerges and I scream and rail at the dog causing both of them to flee to their crates in pathetic trembles.
What must my son feel from me when I’m choking on my own fury. It’s amazing that he even calms down when I scoop him up as I’m bellowing at the dogs.
Even if he knows my anger has nothing to do with him, I don’t want him thinking its okay. I don’t want him growing up remembering to be afraid of his own mother. I’m not a happy person when my anger consumes me. I have NO Reason to be this angry and it’s not like me. A temper? Yes, I have that but this deep controlling consuming seething rage that takes over? It isn’t natural and its certainly isn’t me! I don’t want to be this repulsive and hostile person anymore. I want to be loving and sweet and in control of my own body and emotions.
I failed to catch it even though it was right in front of me. I have become one of the most vile things I can think of, abusive. Being what they are, they forgive me. (sometimes over and over again).
As I sat on the floor last night with my son and his snack on the coffee table, the dogs drooling beneath him, I breathed deep and let it go. There are worse things then bits of roast beef being licked off the carpet. My son is at the stage where he thinks its funny to feed the dogs and feel their tongues on his hand so he is often sharing with them (even eating after them which I find appalling but I can’t stop it all the time) staring over the side of his highchair and purposely dropping food to them and laughing. They are performing on instinct and I can’t fault them. I can’t begrudge them anything given that they will lay there and let my son yank their ears into the position of a Joan Crawford Face Lift. Cody is already becoming Matthew’s shadow, constantly trying to play with him. When Matthew crawls to their food bowl while they are eating, they both back away and sit knowing he has priority and they would gladly share their food with him.
I love my dogs (even though they aggravate the crap out of me with some of their antics and have the most horrible breath on the planet) and I know they will be great playmates and loving with Matthew as he grows. I have no idea why my wrath has centered on them (not just on them) and I will have to continue to work on controlling my anger. They deserve better than me but I can make it up to them. If the meds do nothing else, I hope they ease my anger and my house becomes loving and peaceful again.
I am so revolted by myself in this, that I didn’t even want to write it but I have to admit it. I have to get it out because I’ve hidden too much from everyone, from myself. I have to face it in order to correct and move on.

Best Friends in the House of Smith

In a house full of animals, I envisioned my son romping around with a frisky dachshund at his heels (mostly our rambunctious boy doxie). I even imagined that our female would be very mothering and snuggling with him. So far our boy dog wants nothing to do with him and is acting out: peeing in the house, disobeying, getting into everything. Basically driving me insane. Our female acts like she has been beat when you say one negative word to her (like NO) and runs tail tucked to her crate as if the hounds of hell were after her. She is slowly coming around to listening to commands without being offended but she is still so desperate for attention that she goes stupid occasionally. She is coming along. Atleast she likes the baby she just wants to be in my lap and with him at all times.
Scarlett and Matt

What I didn't expect, was the cat to be the most behaved and attentive. She hangs out in Matthew's room. Sleeps in the drawer under his crib and on the daybed in his room. She is constantly hanging out whereever we are and acting like a gargoyle perched on the arm of the recliner. She gently sniffs the top of his head and licks the bottom of his feet at risk to life and limb as he is very ticklish and one day with deadly accuracy is bound to kick her in the head. When he's in his bouncy chair I've even caught her on her back underneath pulling herself over the top to pat him on his head and then darting off to come back and do it again. She's infatuated.
Truffles and Matt

I just wonder if she will still be the numero uno bestest bud when he can pull her fluffy tail.

Thankful for Children Loving Dogs

Somethings do not turn out like you wanted nor expected, like hosting Thanksgiving. There is only so much that you can control. The rest is out of your hands.

Then there are some things that turn out better than expected and brings joy to your heart and excitement for the future, like a mob of little blonde boys and two happy Dachshunds.

There is no denying that my three nephews are in the same family though they honestly look nothing like either my SIL or BIL, they still manage to look like each other (and favor my husband a little bit in his baby pictures). Those genes are strong in that family and there is a good chance my own son may get those strong traits despite my almost black hair and slightly olive skin tone. When you see these happy little faces with cuddly wiggly dogs though? The only thing you can do is smile to think it won't be long before my little boy will be surrounded by ecstatic pups whether he be blonde, brunette or even ginger.

Who couldn't fall in love with these sights to behold and be Thankful for these adorable pups and boys no matter how stressful the holiday turned out to be? My future with my son and dogs is bright indeed. :)

Hi, I think my name is psycho Hormonal crazy pants

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Is this the psycho hormones I always hear about? I have MOCKED people for blaming hormones for their behavior but now I’m not so sure I should be doing that.

Let’s start with me being a horrible mother. Lately, my dogs (the doxies) have been whining at night. Nothing is wrong with them, they just aren’t sleeping and whining to get out of their crates and be with us. They have been in their routine for TWO years so I don’t know why this whining has started now! They have always whined when the sun was up and/or they hear the alarm going off. They want out to use the bathroom understandably. But ALL NIGHT LONG? That is new.

The past two nights, I chalked it up to them hearing my husband up moving around as he’s had an upset stomach. I’m also thinking my more frequent bathroom trips at night are causing them unrest as they hear me. Last night however, two hours after bed, they woke ME up whining. I yelled at them. Ten minutes later, whining resumed. I yelled again. Same thing. So I finally get up and go in there, and pop their little butts. (yes, on occasion, I lightly pop their butts-it hurts their feelings more than anything, get over it.) Finally silence. An hour later, I woke up to resumed whining. I LOST MY SHIT. I took my poor little dogs, crates and all and put them outside on the porch. I was so tired, I just wanted sleep and was at my wits end and cramps had kicked in real low stressing me out. Of course, I didn’t get any sleep the rest of the night because I laid in bed and cried my eyes out because I was such a horrible mother and started thinking about the long nights ahead with a screaming child which I absolutely can not stick in a crate and dump outside. (I also can not call in to work because of whining dogs where I can with a sick child). (BTW, this is the first time in 13 years, I have ever put a dog outside like that-in fact my 13 yo Chow/shepherd mix glared at me, like “wtf are you doing mom.” And slept by the back door where the doxies were at).

So needless to say, my husband woke up to me- a balling panicky mess this morning that is completely exhausted, feeling quite inhumane and cruel and thinking I am going to be the worst mother in history.

My dogs are fine. It was a beautiful balmy night and I went to the back door to see them snoozing away and happy as clams when I let them out to potty. They were their normal overly loving selves when we came back in the house.

I get to work and am immediately bombarded by a nasty email from one of our counterparts in Germany. He copied the higher ups and completely LIED in his email and distorted the situation. My boss told me what he was going to reply and it was basically just letting him do what he wants because he didn’t want to deal with him and did not address the issue of the lies. I LOST IT. (and I don’t lose it at work people. I am a hardass and I become a complete bitch. I DO NOT EFFING CRY.) I started uncontrollably sobbing. Of course I had to make a mad dash to the bathroom where I spent a half hour soaking my face in cold rags and slobbering into a wad of toilet paper. I AM A MESS.

I did regain some semblance of composure and wrote a very scathing reply with facts and supporting documents and sent it to my boss. He laughed at me and he can send it as is or change it. I don’t care. Since then I have fought the tears by stuffing my face with Coco Rice Krispy treats from a co-worker.

W.T.F. is wrong with me? Is this just hormones? Is this lack of sleep? Combination of both? Or am I really doomed to be a psycho mom that gets her kids taken away because I dump them on the porch at night? I feel completely out of my element, and barely myself. What happened to me?

Rover knows best...

Animals know. You know how I know? I know because my animals have lost their ever loving minds.

I have furbabies, even though I know some people cringe at that word, there really is no other way to describe it. You can say my dog is just a dog, but it doesn’t make it true. My female Dachshund, Scarlett, who is prone to shivering in winter and likes to snuggle, has an extensive wardrobe. She will dive into a sweater quicker than you can say “dogs don’t wear clothes.” My girl, Tedda, has personality plus. She’s a half chow, half german shepherd mix who I have babied for the past 13 years. She’s lazy and obnoxiously stubborn and we haven’t decided if she really is going blind and deaf or just using it as an excuse to do what she wants in her old age. My little boy Dachshund, he is a character all on his own, obsessed with stuffed squirrels, we have a rodent problem littering our living room at all times. Cody was a Daddy’s boy from the first moment we got him, while all the other animals are predominantly mamma’s girls.

Then there is THE CAT. She surreptitiously rules the house, lording it over the dogs that she can come and go while they are barred from entering the bedroom area by that pesky iron baby gate. She perches high on our bed and stretches and yawns as they glare at her through the bars while I get dressed in the morning. She sneaks under sofas and reaches out and swats them as they pass by. She knows she is queen. She has at least five pounds on poor little Scarlett who is determined no cat is going to get the best of her. Truffles has been THE CAT and Queen for 7 years. I think she still holds resentment that I not only brought a man into our bed, but two more dogs. She rubs up against Tedda and glares at me like “see, THIS DOG and I are family. Those two munchkin rats do not belong.”

So how did they lose their minds? Every single one of them have become obsessed with me to the point I can hardly function. If I’m in the kitchen, so are they. Tedda lies in the middle of the floor watching me with deep sighs and huffs. The two little dogs move under my feet every time I do. The cat becomes a statue in the barstool watching me with those unblinking eyes. If I’m on the sofa? So are they. Tedda lays in the floor (as she’s never been one to climb on the furniture which would require hefting her old 65lb self up which is way too much energy for her to expend), Cody curls up behind my legs, Scarlett takes roost up against my stomach or back, and the Cat tries to balance on my hip while glaring at the dogs.

At night, the dogs have taken to whining in their crates because they can’t be with me. The cat tries to sleep on my stomach and if I throw her off enough times she settles with wrapping herself around my head and whacking me in the face with her plumed tail. And occasionally if DH tries to cuddle she attacks him or at minimum tries to butt her head up under his hand to move it or divert his attention.

My animals have always been loving, but now they are just suffocating me. They are ignoring DH, and shoved so far up my ass they can probably keep visual tabs on the baby. I distinctly remember Cody and the Cat acting different last time. We had actually suspected I was pregnant this time from some of the animals’ actions before we got the BFP (but were still shocked because of all the cyst issues we were dealing with). So you can be a naysayer about the intuitive nature of animals all you want, but I KNOW that my ANIMALS know. Maybe they are just smarter than yours, but they know. ::shrugs::

Ultimate disappointment

It wasn't even three days ago I laughed at a commercial that said "1 in 4 women can mis-read a pregnancy test". Apparently, everyone I know, including myself can misread a pregnancy test.

I admit it. I took two last night. The uber cheap store brand pink dye tests. There was no mistaking a faint plus sign. We both saw it. I took pictures and texted it to several of my BOTB girls for second (third, fourth, fifth, sixth, etc.) opinions. They all saw it. Around me, there was giddyness and celebration while I tried to maintain some composure. My heart was leaping, I could hardly breathe. My head was still saying "PROCEED WITH CAUTION!"

I hardly slept. About two hours in, I got up and collected my pee and took my temp. My temp had fallen below the cover line and I cried. Then I realized I had not even been asleep for two hours or so. When I got up like normal this morning, my temp was 97.9 so I poured out the other pee and peed again.

I was on the way out the door but discovered my sick old dog had exploded her bowels all over my livingroom carpet. She hasn't used the bathroom in the house in over 12 years. She's a very sick girl. I spent the next two hours gagging and cleaning up poop and steam cleaning my carpets with Resolve. I still have work to do but for now, my carpet has to dry.

So I took a shower and raced to Walgreens. I got not only a digital but a regular pink dye FRER. I used the FMU and got a big FAT NEGATIVE with the digital. My heart fell to the floor and I thought I was going to stop breathing. I did the pink dye. Negative though I swear I could see a faint shadow of a line.

But you know what? A line isn't always a line. Sometimes its just a shadow. I'm like 18 dpo. There is no way a digital could not detect HSG in FMU at 18 dpo. I am not pregnant. And I just wasted $45.00 on what I knew to be true yesterday.

The lesson here, is do not buy cheap tests. Do not look at shadows and do not get excited until you see a fucking ultrasound. Listen to your gut. When you know what your body does, believe your instinct, not the little hopeful voices that say "there is always a first time for everything." No. Not in the world of my broken uterus.

Excuse me while I go back to cleaning up the dog shit that is both literally and metaphorically my life today.

I'm Evil

Sometimes I wonder if my children are doomed since I laugh at the things I do to my furbabies. Miss Tedda got shaved. It's sad, but she's old and doesn't deal well with heat and while I despise the Chow Chow cuts, it had to be done. I'm still laughing at her.
S starting to shave her:

And After (looking at me like she's going to bite my face off for doing that to her! LOL