My Battle Against Stress!

Meredith Viera had a 2 minute interview this morning on the Today show that has been in my brain all day.



So we as women are taking this economic situation, plus our family stuff, plus our jobs, plus our children's behavior, plus our attempts to please others and we are doing ourselves in! I have read so many blogs, personal messages, and notes in the last 48 hours from friends and complete strangers that demonstrate this to me.

You may (or maybe not) know that I am blogging over at the BlubHer Overhaul. I have seen so many ladies struggling with stress eating or lack of motivation for working out or just being sick. And now I'm wondering how much of it is linked.

I have friends who have said to me on numerous occasions, "I just can't beat these blahs!" And I wonder if they really mean "I just can't beat this stress."

So of course having had all day and 2 loads of laundry (and the motivation of my own stresses) to ponder this, I started to ask myself "So what do we do to battle it?" Exercise? Eat right? Meditate? Pray? All very valid solutions I told myself. But I want more.

What can I do to help other women battle back against stress? Is it just a matter of leaving a comment on every blog I visit? Is it sending a random e-mail to tell someone I care? Is it praying for other people that I see hurting? But I still want more!

You may or may not have seen Copacabana last week -here's hoping you missed it! But that is what I want to do! I want to start a "Pay it Forward" style campaign. I want women to reach out to other women and make them smile. Even if it's only for a little minute, enough of those minutes from enough other people will make a difference.

I have seen so many references to medications, depression, and stress that I wonder if the tide can be turned. I am an optimist. I believe that it can be. But people have to look outside of their own meditation, exercise, dieting, and prayer and try to help other people. I come back to the gas situation I faced last week. I have no idea what effect if any my half a tank left behind had, but I have to believe it helped someone.

Help me. It's not an official campaign. I don't have a happy blog button for anyone to carry around. It's just what is right. So if you see someone today who needs a smile, tell them a quick joke or just smile at them. You may just save their life.

The Playroom from the Nether Regions.

My office (ok, so it's my desk) sits right next to the playroom. I hate it - the playroom I mean. I am kind of fond of my desk. The chair is really comfy. And it spins. What was I saying?

Oh yeah! The playroom. I hate it. It will not stay tidy. I know it will never be "clean." It IS a playroom after all. But does it have to look like Kansas in the summer all the time? I would just like to be able to see the Emerald City carpet for more than minutes at a time.

Ok, so I am not the most disciplined about making sure the kids put away the toys when they are done. And I should probably stop letting them bring snacks down if I would like to stop stepping in questionable stuff. The funky smell would probably diminish if I would make sure the sippy cups got back upstairs at the end of the day.

But I guess the part that bothers me most is when we clean up. I end up doing the lion's share of the work. The whining that goes with the cleaning is enough to make me want to throw everything out and tell them to stare at the walls. And I forget that five and three year olds have yet to figure out logic. So when I say, "I didn't play with them - I shouldn't be cleaning them up" it pretty much qualifies as wasted breath.

Beloved reminded me that once upon a time (when we first moved in three short years ago) this was OUR den. Our place to hang out after the kids went to bed. Soft lighting, over stuffed couch, a little entertainment center with TV and DVD. A haven if you will.

Now the flourescents are on all day every day glaring at me from above like I am a burger on a warmer. The couch has been chewed up, juiced up, and recovered twice. The entertainment center has become combination entertainment center, toy chest and art board. No more haven. Just a playroom.

But it keeps them happy and I can referee the wrestling matches from my comfy spinning chair. I guess I can make the sacrifice to the Playroom gods.

But I Like my Crack - I Mean, Coffee!

My skull is threatening to split right down the middle and free my brain. I mean it. This brain - this rambling, wandering, slightly twisted brain - could be knocking on your front door in the morning looking for a place to sleep.

I messed up. I did not make the coffee last night. Then I topped that off with sleeping in this morning. Daddy-O was so busy trying to figure out why there was a naked - and I mean not a stitch, naked - child in our bed and why I spent the night on the couch with baby feet in my face; that he forgot to make the coffee. By the time everything was sorted out, I had to rush through a shower and whip some kids into clothes in order to make it to church on time.

Oh well, I said to myself as I tried not to die while descending the stairs in 3 inch heels and a caffeine withdrawal fog. I'll just grab some coffee at the welcome center at church. I'll be fine! Munch intervened and decided that a meltdown at the nursery door would make a good beanus interruptus.

I made it through church by praying that the headache at the back of my skull was still controllable. Beloved has made a pot of coffee and it is waiting for me at home. I'll have a cup before I go to the grocery store. Wrong. He went to Dunkin Donuts for his coffee and by the time I got home Tuck was determined that we were going to the grocery store on a date NOW!!

No caffeine today. None. I usually have a pot before 10 am and three more cups of strong tea before 3 pm. At 8 pm I could take no more. I brewed a cup of tea, downed three Motrin and prayed that duct tape can hold a person's head together.

If my brain shows up on your door step tell it that you talked to me and that there is a pot brewing and one on standby. Oh! And Juan Valdez is coming for lunch.