Posted by: rocketbride | May 26, 2012

furniture prozac

This is absolutely my favourite time of year, and the time I appreciate my house the most. I moved in five years ago, and there’s something about the smell the earth gives off, the heat in the yard and the coolness of the wood floors that makes me remember that first spring and summer like it’s come again. This year is a little better than last year in that I have the time and energy to buy little seedlings and spread them hopefully around the gardens. Sometimes it works out (rhubarb!) and sometimes it doesn’t (hosta, my hosta), but I love sinking my fingers to the knuckle in dirt and dreaming of what things might look like in ten years time.

Today was annuals for the swan planters (I bought too much, so there’s more in a rectangular box my mom installed and I never used till now) and some more shade ground cover for the backyard. Mason has his veg and herbs in the front and I have a new flower garden in the front to play with, our third salvo in converting the lawn to garden.


I went to my doctor yesterday to discuss the depression and anxiety. It was hard to admit feeling so worried over nothing, and it was harder to hear the recommendation that I return to the meds. Her point is valid: that if I have the diet and exercise and social connections I’m already doing a lot of the right lifestyle things, so there needs to be something more. And I need to be there for Blake. It was so hard to hear. I wanted to bargain, to promise that I was about to start running and I could take out a lot of refined sugars if that meant I didn’t have to be a big fat failure on happy pills. Plus, I bought a hammock which is basically furniture Prozac.

She said one of my issues is that I try to achieve too much. No doubt the bargaining is a part of that. I signed up for a running class anyway. I take the first pill tomorrow.


I took Blake to a Cuboree today, an overnight camping-in-a-tent extravaganza that will net him two astronomy badges, a crest, and did I mention he’s in a tent for the night? I am frankly jealous.

The road to the Cuboree was not entirely smooth, of course. There was the packing, which wasn’t entirely horrible but had moments of fear and also loathing. This morning’s departure was almost entirely scuttled when Blake refused to get into the car if he could not take his DS for the drive, and I nearly had to make good on my bluff to take Sage to camp in his place. (Poor Sage, to be used so shabbily. Later in the afternoon I tried to make up for this by playing a pretend version of “going to Cub camp” four times in a row. At Sage’s camp, they play Mario and learn about Spiderman and Iron Man and they get lots of treats.)

When I finally got Blake in the car, he spent the ride claiming to hate everything (although he was momentarily silenced by a donut.) Waiting in line for the grounds to open and spraying him with bug repellent, he told me he was going to use the bathroom and then lock himself in the trunk so that he wouldn’t have to stay. By the time I got him to the division’s tents with all his gear (and balancing Miss Maggie on my hip the whole time), he had stopped complaining so loudly. He wouldn’t kiss me, but he did say goodbye.

He’s agonized by choices; I get that. And I know that going into an entirely new situation with no exit and no parent is very very frightening. But I watched him tear himself up last weekend, feeling like he should be in another place, and I wasn’t going to let it happen today. And I’m totally confident that he’s having a good time right now.

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