It’s that time of year again. Time to pick out wee outfits and wee shoes and frilly blouses they’ll never wear again and plop them down on some weird guy’s lap so they can whisper in his ear and tell him what they want for Christmas. A truly magical moment. That being said, we always seem to find a way to make this Christmas tradition happen. A lot of times, it ends up a complete gong show, but take a look at the hacks I rocked with my daughter and at the very least, you’ll have done everything humanly possible do to get that perfect picture with Santa Claus.
When it comes to being a parent, we all tend to think that we’re not doing enough. Our punishments are too harsh, our voices are too loud, or our fuses are too short. When it comes to being the parent of a kid with special needs, every so often, we also think other thoughts that are even less rational than that. But first, an update on the G-Man.
Postpartum depression is the single hardest thing I’ve ever had to contend with in my life. Don’t get me wrong, giving birth was no picnic either, but having my recovery sabotaged by a dirty little mental illness just made everything so much harder.
Postpartum depression is a sneaky little bastard that creeps up on you when you least expect it. It hides in and among your already-raging hormones, stealthily camouflaging itself, and prays not to get caught.
But I did. I caught that bugger red-handed, treated it and now I’m the best mom I can be.
But how do you Know You Have postpartum depression?
Before I became a mother, I was nice. I was friendly and giving and kind. I wasn’t selfish or mean. I hardly ever got angry. I’d go out of my way to help my friends. They trusted me. They thought I was a good person. I was well-liked and reliable. I wasn’t a bitch.
Parenthood is the hardest thing I have ever done. It brings me so much joy and laughter, but with it so much utter insecurity and frustration. I’m snuggling and giggling with my daughter one minute, and negotiating a new bedtime story contract via an arbitrator the next. As if dealing with estrogen wasn’t already a pain in the ass, now I get to ride the ups and downs of child-rearing too.
And while all this is true for most parents, there are things in our lives that actually make the business of parenthood a lot easier. We Canadian parents in particular have it a lot better than we might realize on a day-to-day basis. We take these things for granted, while we’re trying to ignore the judgemental stares of the general public as our toddler throws an earth-shattering tantrum in the cereal isle.