I meant to post earlier today but I was in a MOOD. Just... gah. A MOOD. And not a good one either.
I hate when this happens, and I don't have a decent explanation -- say, PMS -- and it just goes on and on. There's no particular reason for me to feel crappy; we just have the usual cornucopia of bullshit (pushy toddler, late-paying clients, no money). Charlie is feeling the pressure since he's the money manager in our house, and my worry meter is off the scale thanks to my mom's current crappy situation (stupid nasty roommate of my mom's actually fucking ATTACKED her -- this after my mom let her live there for two years for FREE; plus, she's facing financial hurdles of her own).
I had therapy today and it was one of those sessions where I just kind of dumped and vented at my therapist and I didn't feel any better. Plus there were a few minutes when I wanted to kill her; I was discussing Tori's behavior and she said, "What is it that you and Charlie do that makes her do that?" and my head kind of blew off. But I got it together and managed to get something out of the appointment.
I mentioned to her that I feel kind of ripped off because I was in a good mood for like ten days and I really thought it was the anti-depressants working and I thought that meant I wouldn't have to be in a damned bitchy mood anymore. She pointed out that those ten days of feeling good just might have had more to do with my vacation than the actual medication. She suggested perhaps I stop whining and start exercising again (I've missed a few days because... well... because I have a blister on my heel and my shoes hurt. Shut up), and I opted to NOT increase my antidepressant dose in an attempt to feel all happy all the time. Even though I totally want a pill to make it ALL FUCKING BETTER.
Arg.
I promptly came home from therapy and picked a fight with Charlie which was AWESOME (ask him, I am so SURE he'll agree) and then kicked and fussed and moaned for a bit before I was finally able to see reason. At least, I think I can see reason again, although I'm clearly still in mind dump territory because GOOD FUCKING GOD THIS POST IS SO ANNOYING.
Gah.
Moving on.
So, everyone is right about Tori. Your advice and responses to my last post were incredibly helpful; such great suggestions and food for thought. I really liked the responses that didn't involve hitting, but I could totally empathize with those comments too, frankly.
Several things in particular stood out; first and foremost, Charlie and I got on the same page about tantrum management. We're going to follow the very smart rule that says we can change our minds about something right up until she begins the screaming (thanks Liz, among others). Then we stand fast. Also, we will ignore tantrums, and leave the room if she's safe to give her time to cool down. I feel good about this plan, and glad Charlie and I are in agreement about coping.
Secondly, the dietary suggestions really hit a nerve. Tori doesn't get a lot of sugar (as in cake and candy and cookies) but she has begun downing juice boxes at the speed of light and we finally counted how many she was going through in a day and OH MY GOD. So we've stopped the juice boxes (with the exception of one low-sugar one that has carrot juice in it which helps her get some sort of vegetable into her body, and that we're diluting and limiting it). Secondly, we are eliminating the goldfish crackers. For a while there all she was eating was goldfish and juice boxes, which is pretty much like giving a toddler crack. Already in 36 hours we've seen both the duration and intensity of the tantrums decrease, and it almost seems as if she is just pitching a fit more out of habit than a sincere feeling of rage.
Whew.
Lastly, I'm wondering a bit, still, about the sensory disorder spectrum. I had no idea that there was another end of the spectrum that is all about sensory seeking (thanks Shandra and Heather); I knew about the sensory integration disorder (and, in fact, feel very firmly that Charlie suffered from this as a kid, based on so many of his own childhood stories. His mother treated it by beating the crap out of him; NOT an effective treatment plan). Tori matches a good 75% of the sensory seeking behavior and we've already instituted a bit of a sensory limits; we are only allowing one toy at once, requiring that she turn off the TV if she's reading or playing with a toy, and insisting that she eat at the table. We are also keeping up the physical activity and encouraging her to express herself through exercise. I know very little about this stuff and am doing more research to see if we think she needs an evaluation. However, I do have a tendency to think sometimes that she MUST have some underlying thing going on to explain why raising her is so fucking HARD sometimes, and that may not be the case at all. It just might be that she's fine and I'm the one that's dysfunctional.
Heh.
Anyway, this post is already beginning to bore me so I will end it on one last note.
If you haven't seen it already, go see the movie Away We Go. I've never seen a movie like this before: a movie that has at its heart a strong, functional couple that really love each other. Add in amazing dialog that sounds like real people I know (the last line -- and this is not a spoiler -- is "I fucking hope so."). Warning, though: for us infertile/loss people there is a moment of absolute wrenching loss that made me cry. It's done well -- beautifully, in fact -- so it feels true, but it still hurt. But the rest of the movie, oh my GOD, is just so fucking good. Don't miss it.
And thus ends my it's-practically-Tuesday-Monday post. I'm getting there, people.
