Gwen is spending the day at Jackie's house (the woman who used to porovide Gwen's daycare) today and I sent along $20 to buy the kids McDonald's or pizza for lunch. Emily and Gwen were so excited to see each other and by the time Tonly left Gwen had settled right in, made herself at home and was playing in the living room. This, of course, means that I am home with only the triplets. Most normal people would spend their "free time" cleaning, or doing long-overdue things that have gotten put-off, like calling the collection agency about that hospital bill from 9 months ago. But not me. I sit around in my pj's fucking around on the computer. I blog. I do Christmas shopping online. And it's all wonderful. Oh, I had illusions of grandeur for my day at 8 AM, but have since lost sight of cleaning off the kitchen island and organizing my stack of miscellaneous papers, lists, and reciepts that Holden keeps trying to eat off the side table. The kids are napping, the TV is off and the wind is blowing the leaves around outside. Besides the occassional car driving by and the wind, all I hear is typing. It is glorious.
Of course, I did start my EMDR therapy on Wednesday (which I will blog more about at another time, when I have the strength to talk in depth about it), which was intense, so I have been a little down-in-the-dumps. I will say this about it: the session started with my therapist telling me to muster up memories, feelings, and emotions from when the babies were in the NICU and I didn't want to go see them while simultaneously thinking, "I am a bad mother." I touched upon many feelings and emotions stemming from that thought from how I am becoming all the things I hated about my own mother, to how I feel helpless and hate my life. She said the first session is always the worst and as my brain processes everything (even on a subconscious level), I will start to feel better, and by the time I go back on Wednesday I should feel much better about everything already. I am not a crier, per se, and I cried through the whole EMDR session, for 30-40 minutes again that night after I was at home, and again last night for a good 40 minutes or so. I also left therapy that day with a massive headache and a stomach ache. I hate crying, it's like throwing up emotions. Emotions I want to have control over but no longer do. It makes me feel weak and vulnerable and stupid. I hate crying. So I sure hope for all this energy spent and time wasted blubbering, that it actually helps me feel better. Yesterday was especially rough having to deal with the kids all day and I had to lay down a couple of times to decompress and collect myself. Then I let it all out when they went to bed, throwing up more emotions. This morning was the first time I have felt like I'm coming out of the depressed fog I've been in, which is hopeful and promising. Unfortunately, my headache is coming back.
And now, my delicious, sweet-silence break is over as the lightest sleepers in all the land have arisen. Thank you to the town testing that stupid fucking emergency signal horn each day at noon (I really have to move their nap times so they no longer coincide).
Besides, I should probably take a shower and brush my teeth, eat lunch and do the dishes. UGH!! I miss my old life...
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