Tuesday, April 20, 2010


Lately, I've been feeling sad. Some mornings I just don't want to get out of bed and, honestly, if I didn't have to get the kids to school, I probably wouldn't. Why the sudden blues? Am I trapped under a pile of rubble in Haiti? No. Have I lost a loved one to the war in Afghanistan? No. Do I work for an airline? No. I have a loving family and the best friends a person could ever hope for. So what gives, princess?

Depression is a funny old thing. It can creep up on you when you least expect it and it can make you feel so guilty. On my doctor's advise, and with every fibre of my being screaming, "NOOOO, we agreed to keep our own counsel!", I went to see a therapist. It was surprisingly empowering. It felt good to relinquish control for a while and have a professional tell me that it is okay to not be perfect always.

So here goes: I spend every hour of every day caring for three children and a husband. I handle 12 loads of laundry a week on average, despite chronic pain from arthritis. I gave up a great career to cook and clean and babysit and coordinate and console and cheer and chauffeur, chauffeur, chauffeur. I try to take a little bit of time for myself but I forever have one eye on the clock. Oh, and I'm turning 40 next week.

Don't even think about questioning how much I spend at Starbucks.

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