PPD is the root….

Every few months, a discussion of Postpartum depression pops up in conversation in social media and in the news. Recently, it has become a hot topic, presumably because of the car chase in Washington D.C. The morning after the driver was shot and killed after trying to break down barricades of the Capitol, several nataionl news organizations blasted headlines such as “Capital Car Chase Suspect Believed to be Delusional, Emotionally Distrubed” (with the web address reading a much less dramatic “depressed…” and “Miriam Carey, Capitol Suspect, Suffered Post-Partum Depression.” I only wish I could find the cite to the news article which read something like car crash suspect had mental issues.

All weekend I was waiting for something to blow up and to turn into a warning on the DANGERS of pospartum depression. Of course, there would be sprinklings of articles of “what to watch for” and “how to help”, but the focus would be postpartum depression = stalking the President

And low and behold, I read an article published on Babble, and then on Yahoo Shine, asking the public if it’s time to take notice of pospatum depression: Woman Shot at Capitol Building Had Postpartum Depression – is it Finally Time to Take Notice?

with THIS: “Over and over, it seems that when women are involved in acts of violence, often harming their own children, PPD is the root.”

No. no no no no no no no. NOOOOOOOOOOO.

This, my friends, is why so many women do not talk about their experience with postpartum depression.

And that, my friends, is why I’m going to talk about mine.

Stay tuned….

Murder Mystery!

The only sort of murder mystery I get excited about are super cold-cases. Maybe excited isn’t the right word, but it’s a combination of intrigue and a dash of horror (certainly less horror than with current murder mysteries).
Anyhow, the Capital Region has it’s own murder mystery. A family living in a local suburban/rural area was having work done in their house. Yesterday morning, a construction worker found a bag of old bones hidden in a basement crawl space.
When the local newspaper, the Times Union, reported on it yesterday, there was a hint that it was related to a missing persons case from 1938. Today’s article shines a little more light- apparently police have uncovered a report written by a ninth grader about the missing woman and whose husband returned to his native Germany shortly after her disappearance.  It doesn’t seem like there is much to do with a case like this, but that hasn’t stopped the local police from sifting through other areas of the house.

Has your town ever had a cold-case murder mystery?

UPDATE 10/4/13:
So, no murder mystery after all. The bones were examined and turned out to be animal bones.

Sacrifice for Health

What kid is good with shots? I challenge you to name one.  But Vivian has never been terrible with shots.  Most of the time she’s more angry than sad, and the only tears we’ve seen was with her most recent set of shots at her 1 year checkup.

It was at that checkup that our lovely family practitioner, Dr. B, advised that we have Vivian’s blood levels tested for lead. (Our house was built in 1890…. so… yeah).  I don’t know if it is my own avoidance of blood work, but I completely blocked that task out.  It was only until I received prental bloodwork last week did I realize Vivian was due for her own. (I actually had a discussion with the phlebotomist* about WHY IN THE WORLD LITTLE KIDS NEED BLOODWORK – other than if they were seriously ill. She told me to test for lead, and a light went off. But I digress)

So today I was cleaning out my wallet and found the prescription burried in a small compartment. Knowing her 15 month visit is coming up in a few weeks, and that the Man had a flexible schedule today, I quickly made the latest appointment they had, and headed over.  Less time to dread it, right?

I wasn’t sure what to expect – some coworkers thought it was a true blood draw, others thought it might be a prick.  and the internet wasn’t clear (surprise!). 

Vivian was in a SUPER mood today. Happy, laughing, playing.  When she was up, I was asked to sit in the chair with her on my lap. I was instructed to “bear hug” her, while another nurse would hold down her arm.  So true blood draw it is…. As soon as they put that rubber tuniquette on her upper arm, she started to panic.  But when they put the needle in, oh Lord, did she cry. and not a mad scream, but true sad horrible tears and sobs. I was trying to talk to her and calm her down, but I know that was more for my sake than for hers.

It was over in less than a minute (the longest minute EVER), and for a good 15 minutes afterwards, she was holding her arm out to the side to remind us the horrors we subjected her to.  I swear, she would calm down for a second, and then look back at the gauze taped on her arm, and start crying all over again. 

Thankfully, the labratory was near a TCBY, so we grabbed some frozen yogurt as a treat. A little vanilla yogurt, blueberries, butterfinger and hot fudge DID THE TRICK. she was bouncing and happy in now time.

I’m told this didn’t last the rest of the afternoon during her and The Man’s shopping trip.  But at least those big fat tears and that deep sobbing was left behind.

* I had to look that word up. Otherwise it would have been “the lady who ever so gently draws my blood)
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NaBloPoMo October 2013

 

Fancy Tricks

In honor of her 15 month birthday, Vivian has decided to show you all of her tricks*.


 

 * yes, we call them tricks. listen, we were dog owners long before we were parents, so old habits die hard!

 

P.S.  Today is the first day of NaBloPoMo October 2013! Remember when I did that last year?  Be warned, we’re going to be heavy on the pictures and videos this month, but isn’t that what you’re all here for anyway?

NaBloPoMo October 2013