I stayed home from work last week due to some depression and anxiety issues. Yep, I snapped. For reals. And I will probably be home again this week while I adjust to some new meds. I enjoy my job, especially the ladies I work with, but it’s one of those “every day is so damn chaotic you can’t breathe” jobs. The kind where you’re constantly doing twelve things at once and are still expected to avoid any and all mistakes. My coworkers seem to handle this pressure really well. Me…. not so much. This job has not meshed well with my seemingly never-ending postpartum issues.
In case you are an idiot and still don’t believe postpartum is legit, it is. Trust me. You can ask me. You can ask my husband. This shit sucks.
Staying at home with my one year old has been… interesting. I love this kid. She’s a total rock star. She is super smart and super sassy. This girl knows what she wants and is not afraid to tell you. But this week she started telling me no. It’s her answer when I tell her to stop playing in the dog food. It’s her answer when I tell her not to touch the litter box. It’s pretty much just her answer to everything now. Still, even with the endless laundry, non-existent naps, constant fit-throwing, and stubbing my toe one too many times on all these freaking toys… I’ve loved it. And I want to keep doing it. As in, I don’t want to go back to my eight to five, full time job. I desperately wish there was a way to become a SAHM, supplementing our income with my little photography business.
What a week. Yikes.