Too blessed to be depressed

I was talking to mosesface yesterday about how the first symptom for me of postpartum blues, depression, or just a really crappy mood, has always been lack of perspective. When Lazlo and I were first married I would look at the sink full of dishes/hamper full of dirty clothes/bathroom full of stinky towels and a toilet that needed scrubbing and think: this is my new life. I'll be doing this until I die. Of course, when you factor in my super lousy clenaing skills and Lazlo's history of employment as a dishwasher (he wasn't called Rayo Blanco for nothing, folks) he ended up doing most of the dirty work while I sulked around in my pajamas moaning about my fate and having big "Domestic Equality" symposiums on the phone with girl friends. When we moved out Col. Rhombus cleaned our bathroom for basically the first time in it's stinky grimy life. I don't think he's looked at us the same since.

I think it must be common for new moms to lose sight of great stretches of time and zero in on this moment, the one with the crying baby. The baby has always and will always be crying. It's really very zen and new agey. Not much of a comfort when your brain is leaking out of your ears. The words "crying baby" are so totally inadequate a description of that moment, as any parent can tell you. Wrennel's never been much of a cryer, (and I write this with such incredible gratitude) she's really a pretty low-maintenace baby. I can check in on her once in while, maybe discourage her gently from eating handfulls of change, smacking the dog in the face, or playing with the extension cord (unplugged guys- don't freak out). Give her a rice cake and free roam of the house and she's cool. So Wren is incidental to any depression. It's not like her needs overwhelm me. They don't even whelm me, and her cuteness and hilarious antics (see dog smacking) always brighten my day.

Nonetheless I do get sad sometimes. And it's largely a matter of perspective. The old this moment deal: this diaper I'm scraping poop off of, this loud neighbor waking the baby, this mountain of to-do lists that never ever ever get done. In the past people snap me out of this by saying, "remember yesterday, when you said...(whatever deliriously happy thing I said)" And I think, oh right, I'm not always sad. I've done this for other people, mosesface in particular, and the truth telling really only works when you can really tell comforting truths. I'm not saying I'm not incredibly grateful for the innumerable gifts and blessings in my life. Being pretty pessimistic, I'm grateful everytime I walk the dog and she doesn't get run over. Every time I go to the grocery store and don't flip the car on the way home. Every time I throw away a bank statement and don't get my identity stolen, every time the baby coughs and it's not infant pnuemonia, and about a zillion other things lurking around I'm not going to give reality to by mentioning, (thanks, Buffy) but I'm grateful anyway.

I'm just saying, the point at which I can see my life taking a definite up-turn, not a wishy-washy state-of-mind up-turn, but a real one, is about two years down the road. When Lazlo is done with school and I can see him for more than roughly 24 hours a week. And when I rememeber that I get kind of blue. Wren sees him even less because she's in bed by the time he gets home. I see other moms who seem capable of so much, visits to the aquarium, museums, whatever. And I look at myself, with my stalled grad school application and my "maybe we'll leave the house today" mentality and am pretty disgusted.

I'm glad we're out here doing this. I wouldn't change it. We've made fantastic friends and go to a wonderful church and it's just a hard time in our lives that we'll look back on fondly and yadda yadda yadda. I need to get off my ass and find some other SAHMs to be friends with, whether I like them or not damnitt. I need to walk the dog every day and do a load of diapers. It's not a K-2 expedition. I know the pep talk by heart and I give it to myself all the effing time. It's just sometimes, like the last few days, I have a hard time listening.