Parenting

Crafts for the Uncrafty

Make Your Own Tent (With Tassels!)

February 2, 2015

WE MADE THIS.

You will note, please, that I said "we" and not "I." That is because I had literally nothing to do with like 99% of this project, because I am not talented like that. I do, however, have a friend, Erin, who is, and who responded to our son's love of cave/fort things with "Well, let's make him one!"

And so we (and again, by "we" I mean "Erin and her husband, who just happens to be a master woodworker") did. And then we covered it with polka-dot flannel and added rainbow tassels, and the whole thing is just flat-out RIDICULOUSLY COOL.

Crafts for the Uncrafty

Dipped Thrift-Store Paintings

December 23, 2014

You know what no one buys at thrift stores?

The artwork. Seriously, no one: in every thrift store that I've ever been to, the corners are piled with stacks of forlorn-looking faded prints of, like, fruit. Maybe some dancing kids, or a vase of flowers. And because nobody buys them, ever, they're usually in the realm of a buck or two each.

I generally take a peek at the stacks of paintings and posters to see if any of them happen to have really good frames that I can repurpose…but then I saw the below photo on Pinterest and was all: OOOH.

Crafts for the Uncrafty

DIY Golden Creature Terrarium

December 5, 2014

The other day, Kendrick and I had dinner at our friend Erin's house (she of the awesome Pinterest and crafting blog and Peekskill-trip planning skills). She and her husband have an amazing midcentury buffet table in their dining room that they use to display various odds and ends that they've collected and/or made over the years, and when I spotted a tiny dome housing even tinier gold animals sitting on the buffet I was immediately transfixed. I had visions of them wandering through some obscure thrift store in some adorable middle-of-nowhere town and stumbling across priceless gilded tigers the size of thimbles that had once been the playthings of royal children during the Qing Dynasty, but that they had managed to score for five bucks.

Or something.

Five seconds later my son had whipped that glass dome off and plucked the animals off of their stand, and I was running towards him, with visions of him destroying some precious, irreplaceable artifact (and thereby destroying our newish friendship in the process). I snatched them out of his hands (--> tears), only to discover...

Anxiety

Someone With Problems

October 10, 2014

I wrote a few weeks ago how, in the days following Goldie's birth - when I feared a relapse of the postpartum depression that I'd suffered from after Indy arrived - I was prescribed a low-dose medication to combat the chronic insomnia and anxiety that I've been dealing with for a good decade (and hopefully make PPD more unlikely). It's been two months, and I figure now is as good of a time as any to write about how it's been going.

* * *

Growing up, my parents taught me that no one would handle my problems for me; it was on me to face them, and then fix them. If I had an issue with a teacher, a fight with a friend, an essay that I just couldn't seem to get right, they were there to listen and offer suggestions, of course, but they were not going to storm the gates and take over; finding a solution was my job. And I'm grateful for that.

Anxiety

If You Only Ask

August 22, 2014

I went into the birth of my second child absolutely convinced I'd experience at least some degree of the postpartum depression I dealt with after Indy was born. It was something I brought up at my very first appointment after finding out we were expecting, and something that I touched base with my doctors about over the course of the next few months. I didn't want it to catch me unguarded and without a plan in place, because with a toddler and an infant to think about, being that emotionally out of sorts even for even a day didn't feel like an option.

My primary concern: you know how I've written extensively about my insomnia (which is largely related to my anxiety)? Well, when you have a newborn, you sleep even less. And less sleep = a greater chance of suffering from PPD.

At the mid-point in my pregnancy, I went to meet with a psychiatrist (which I should have done a long, long time ago), because even though I didn't want to start any new medications while expecting, I figured you know what? I've been dealing with this problem long enough. I've tried lots of different things - some that have worked for a time, and some that haven't worked at all - and if there's a longer-term, more stable solution, I'd like to find it. What we decided: that I'd start on an extremely low-dose daily antidepressant immediately following the birth. I don't suffer from depression, but apparently this kind of medication can help to shut off the sort of ruminative thinking that characterizes my particular type of anxiety.

(As a side note, this decision to try medication wasn't something I was going to talk about here - it feels so, so personal - but then I realized: am I ashamed that I suffer from insomnia and anxiety? No. Am I ashamed that I've tried lots of different things over the years, and that now I'm going to try this? No. And I know that these are issues that a lot of people suffer from, and that a lot of people feel ashamed about, and I believe with all my heart that there is no shame in being open about your struggles and seeking out help wherever you can find it.)

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