Onichophagia Anonymous

If you don't know what onichophagia is, you probably don't struggle with it. Or maybe you do, but never knew there was a clinical term. Anyway. It's the technical term for nail biting. Ongoing, long term, difficult to stop nail biting is CHRONIC onichophagia. I know all about the chronic kind, because I have it myself.
In case you're curious as to the causes of onichophagia, or if you think it's just a dirty, disgusting habit, please know that it's linked to a variety of psychological issues, like all body-focused repetitive behaviors (think hair pulling, skin picking, etc.) It has been linked to OCD, bi-polar, depression, and anxiety disorders. It isn't often a matter of just stopping because you know you should or because you know it's a gross behavior. It is entirely damaging to one's self esteem, given how people look at nail biting, and how obvious bitten nails are.
I can't say exactly when I started biting my nails, but I CAN tell you that I was VERY young. It goes back as far as I can remember. A few years back, I managed to quit. And then I relapsed. Then I quit again. Then I relapsed again. I imagine you can see where this is going.
I'm pretty down tonight (can't sleep, getting over a miserable cold) because I really thought I had this kicked, but suddenly I'm in the midst of the worst biting relapse I've had since quitting biting in the first place. It makes me wonder if I will either never be able to kick it altogether, or if I'm going to have to go on some sort of med to knock down the anxiety that makes me bite.
I've long thought that nail biting was my internal response to high levels of anxiety, and having a bad response to stressful situations. Now I feel that's been pretty much confirmed, and it sucks, because I feel like unless I seek help, I will ALWAYS relapse into nail biting when things are difficult. And I hate it SO much. I've been looked down on, ridiculed, made to feel like a disgusting person, and more because of this DISORDER. And that's all nothing compared to what I do to myself in my head over it. Because nail biting is somewhat common, no one looks at the chronic kind as a disorder. It's just something you should be able to stop doing, to most people. I won't gross you out with pics of my hands, but I can tell you that when I bite my nails, I do so with fervor. My fingertips ache and my nails look absolutely awful. And when I've just had my nails nice for the past two years? It hurts even worse to fall back into this.
I wish I had a better handle on my options, other than obviously trying to stop again, which of course I will. I've done it before, but when will it stick for good?
I just have to wonder, if I seek treatment. .. Will I be treated for the DISORDER of onichophagia, or will be I told to use more willpower and "just stop" the gross HABIT?

Perfectionist in name only

Is it weird to be a perfectionist in some ways and a total slob in other ways?

In some ways, I want every single thing to be perfect, as they pertain to certain events. Birthday parties for my kid, giving birth, surprises for others, and things like that... I demand perfection in such a way that it would likely never be obtainable. By the time the thing I wanted to be perfect is over, usually I've gotten a grasp on the things that DID go well, and I'm ok with whatever wasn't perfect. But in the planning process, I tell you what, everything better go just right or I'm panicking. I think that this has an effect on my insomnia; I lay in bed the other night debating for hours if I could give a gift that was baked in my kitchen to an acquaintance who's daughter has a peanut allergy, even though what I baked wouldn't be around or contain peanuts. It's a severe allergy, so ultimately I decided it wasn't worth the risk -  but why worry about it into the night? Why not have the thought, consider it, and either think about it tomorrow or make a decision? Instead I lay there worrying for hours about whether or not they would feel left out, and whether that was better than a possible allergic reaction because hey, I fix my kid a PB&J in the kitchen every day and what if a molecule of peanut butter got into the bread I was baking even though I clean the kitchen before big bakes? Ugh. How can my Christmas baking be perfect if someone may be allergic to the peanut butter molecule that may or may not get into the baking? Can't sleep must think. Sigh. I appreciate my ability to consider the minutiae, but I sometimes wish it were restricted to the daytime hours.

But in other ways, I'm helplessly NOT a perfectionist. Toys all over the floor in the living room? Meh, no big deal. A few dishes in the sink? No big thing. They'll get done at some point. I don't wish I was fanatical about keeping the house clean, but I DO wish it was a little more inherent for me to clean. When I met Brian, he was a fanatical neat freak, and I was fairly slobby. Over the years, we've worn off on one another, but I sure do wish I could find a little more motivation for cleaning than I do. I would like for Brian to come home to a (more) clean house. I keep thinking I need to make a schedule for myself and adhere to it better - then maybe I could get done the things around the house that I want to instead of realizing suddenly that he will be home in 10 minutes and there isn't anything I can do then (even though there really is.) With cleaning, that is one of those things that I'm going to just have to pep talk myself into and get it done. I've told Brian on numerous occasions that I'll try harder and it hasn't happened... so it sure would be nice if I could actually get my stuff together and be a better housekeeper, considering I'm here all day.

In other news, I talked to the apartment leasing office yesterday, to find out if they could be of any assistance with our rent going up and now I don't know what to believe. The leasing office told me that they would never raise anyone's rent more than $100/month, and that it would likely only be $30-$40. But a friend/co-worker of Brian's recently moved out of here because they were going to raise his rent by around $200, so that makes no sense. I'm really not sure what to think, but ultimately our plan will just be to look around and see what's out there. I can't figure out why either party would lie to us - why would our neighbor lie/exaggerate by that amount? Why would the leasing office lie? We'll know what our increase will be in a few months! Is it normal for apartments to raise rates on existing renters? I've never lived in an apartment more than a year, just a rental townhome... is it normal? It seems once someone's renting, you'd be best to just leave their rent alone, unless something crazy happens, like the addition of a really great amenity. I don't know. I'm just confused. Brian's dad made a good point yesterday though - he said our responsibility as renters is to be sure that WE are getting the best deal, which means looking around for ourselves, no matter what the circumstances. We are responsible for being prepared for a rent hike, whether or not it actually happens. We of course knew that, but it was a nice reminder. We'll keep an eye on the rental market in the coming months, to be sure. Because, you know, we have to have the perfect place to live. Ha.

It was not such a good day... until it was

Actually, I'm not too sure I ever hit the "good day" part, but I did manage to have a decent day. It was one of those days that just seemed like nothing could go right, and I wished I could have stayed in bed. Would it have been as crummy if I wasn't pregnant and hormonal? Maybe. But the fact is, between the events of the day and the hormones, I cried more times today than I usually do in a month.

The day started out ok, Gage slept until 7:00 AM which was awesome because he'd gone to bed at 7:00 PM the night before. So he got a solid twelve hours of sleep, and that makes me happy. Unfortunately for me, I had gotten a not-so-solid... um, maybe six hours. I was pretty tired. We walked Brian down to his car, and Gage fought me and cried all the way back upstairs because he wanted to go with Daddy. After playing for a bit, he climbed up into his highchair, so I fed him some breakfast. He can now get the tray off of his highchair himself, which is a bummer because he basically kicks it onto the floor. That can be with or without food. This morning, he did eat all of his breakfast before kicking off his tray, so that was something. He then proceeded to throw a huge fit when I tried to get him down. Guess he really wanted to stay in his chair and color, so I set him up with that for a bit, and all was peaceful.

The morning went ok from there, until I tried to get him to nap at 10:00 AM. At that point, it all went downhill. Gage was clearly tired, but he refused to nap. He screamed and fussed like the world was ending. So I went and got him after 10 minutes, figuring maybe I could settle him back down. It didn't work. We were due at my folks' house between 12 and 1, so I figured we could try again a little later. It never happened. He was wide awake, and wouldn't give any consideration to napping. About 12, I figured I better get ready with a quickness. That didn't go as planned. Gage felt the need to try to clear off my dresser, clear off the bathroom counter, open every drawer in the bedroom and try to pull stuff out, shut me in the bathroom, shut me in the bedroom, dump the water out of the humidifier, turn the lamp on/off/on/off, and generally reek havoc in our bedroom... all while giggling his ornery giggle and grinning big at me EVERY time I stopped him from doing something. It got a little frustrating. The third or fourth time I kicked him out of the bedroom, I was pleased by a few minutes of peace. He stayed in the family room for a bit, and I got my hair done. I came out of the bedroom to get him ready, and saw my previously full water bottle laying empty on the ottoman. I looked at the floor under the ottoman; it was bone dry. So I turn around to look at the couch, next to which is the end table that the bottle had sat on. Bingo. The couch was SOAKING wet.

I'm not proud to say that I sank to my knees in the middle of the room and bawled like a baby. Hormones and frustration. Heavy on the hormones. THEN I felt like a giant jerk, because (soaking wet) Gage came over, threw his arms around me, and cuddled up into my lap. He cuddles me if I cry; I am telling you he is the single sweetest kid I have ever met. So I held him, cuddled him, got myself together, and got him ready to go. We got out the door, and got to my folks' house. Because we were running late, they had eaten lunch without us, so it made me depressed to think that we would be at their house and eating by ourselves, even though that's dumb because they would sit with us while we ate, anyway. Hormones? Yes.

So we got there, and my dad told me they had some good turkey (lunch meat) for sandwiches. I'm a little nervous about lunch meat and listeria, so I didn't want to eat the turkey, even though it sounded good. My dad said they didn't have much else for me to eat... and that triggered a whole NEW crying jag. With me standing in their refrigerator crying over lunch. Again, ridiculous, because their house is loaded with food, and it isn't like I would starve, I would just have to look a little harder. My mom heard me, and gave me a hug, and we talked about it. Between eating lunch (my dad grilled me a hamburger) and watching Gage's happy delight in playing at his grandparent's house, I felt much better. It also helped to have someone sharing the Gage-chasing for a bit, as I was a little frazzled and frustrated. By the time I got home, my mood was much better.

When Gage and I got home, Brian and I split the dishes. Then we had a tasty dinner of leftover baked ziti and put Gage to bed. After the Biggest Loser, we're just kind of hanging out. I love this time of the evening. I really enjoy my days with Gage, don't get me wrong. He is the light of my life and I treasure every moment of being home with him. It is nice to have a couple hours of the evening just Brian and I, though.

Hope you enjoyed a good day. Or at least, a decent day, because a decent day is much better than a terrible day.

The power of self talk

Recently, I made a comment to Brian that was meant in jest, but taken quite differently. I said something along the lines of, "Oh, I meant to, but it just slipped my feeble brain." I do this a lot. I have always been a bit of a self-effacing person. I have never been too good at taking compliments, and I have never been good at talking myself up. Quite the opposite, I'm pretty good at telling myself I'm NOT good enough, I'm not smart enough, I will fail again, why even try? Once, someone close to me was telling her husband that she didn't want to get any new pictures of the two of them taken because she was fat and ugly. Her husband told her, "I don't like it when you talk about yourself like that. I would never let anyone say those sorts of things about the woman I love, so I won't let you say those things about you, either." It really hit home with me that he loved her a lot. But interestingly enough, it didn't make me rethink my OWN habit of negative self talk.

It is so easy to fall into the habit, especially for us women. Feeling a little down, or unhappy... it is so easy to verbalize the thoughts of, "I look so fat in this dress." "I forgot to do the dishes, I'm such an idiot." "Oh, I'm so dumb, I can't believe I forgot that again!" These things become part of our vernacular. We get so used to wanting to be humble, meek, liked, and not seem over-confident, we easily fall into the trap of playing down our strengths. What we don't realize is the chasm that builds between our true selves and what we want to portray. Negative self talk also is an obvious slap to God's face, because it is like telling Him that He did a pretty bad job on us!

What we may NOT realize is that our negative self talk tears down not only us, but our families and relationships as well. Tell someone you're stupid enough times, they may just start to believe you. If someone else thinks highly of you, they may just get tired of hearing you talk badly about yourself. After all, they probably wouldn't up with that sort of insulting language ABOUT you, what makes it ok for them to hear it FROM you?

But back to my specific incident. I told Brian that something slipped my "feeble brain." I meant it to be funny. I know I'm not dumb. Apparently, however, he had heard enough of my negative self talk. In a very calm, very level voice, Brian asked me to stop saying things like that because it was upsetting. I sort of blew it off at the time, to be honest. But later, I was mulling it over, and realized how much of a sign of his love that request was. And how could I not honor that? I told him I would stop the negative self talk. I realized also that my negativity would be just the thing to help Gage breed a negative image of himself, which is the polar opposite of what I want for him. I want him to grow up knowing he can be or do anything he sets his mind to. He doesn't need to get mired down in thinking he isn't smart enough for something he dreams of.

You see, our kids are sponges. And it is just as easy to help them learn positive, Godly messages as it is to help them learn that they just aren't good enough, their gifts aren't special enough, they weren't made for that dream. If we just give our thought processes and speech patterns a little tweek, we can fill our children with positivity, optimism, and light. And isn't happiness one of our goals for our children?

Thank you, Brian. For opening my eyes to what self-deprecating humor and fishing for compliments really does to a spouse. And let's face it... if you've ever fished for a compliment, you probably know that the resulting compliment is so not fulfilling. Now, when your husband tells you out of the blue how nice you look, THAT is a good compliment. As a result of all of this, I am on a mission. I want to remove negative self talk from my vocabulary! It isn't cute, humble, or funny. It isn't something that those who love us want to hear. It certainly doesn't breed motivation to fix the things that we really would like to improve. Most of all, it is something that can easily be passed along to our kids in such a way as to stunt their positive self views.

Are you with me? Will you work to cut the negative self talk out of YOUR vocabulary, too?

Nap refuser, Wal-mart, and a tasty chicken dinner

I had a nap refuser today. You know the nap refuser, the baby/toddler/kid that is flat out exhausted but refuses the nap no matter what you try. It took two hours to get him down, and by the time he crashed, I knew it would be too late upon his waking for an afternoon nap. So we made the best of it. He slept 2.5 hours and may have tried and failed at falling back asleep.

We needed to hit up Wal-mart for some meats and a few odds and ends. It was a hard trip for me for some reason. My anxiety levels were through the roof, despite Wal-mart not being super busy, and I couldn't concentrate to save my life. I paid really close attention to Gage, which mostly got me through it. If I focus on him I can get by in crowds or anxiety inducing circumstances. It took me almost 15 minutes in the meat department to choose meats for the rest of the week and weekend. I haven't had that happen for a while. But it was alright, the important thing is that we made it through and got what we needed. Gage got a new green ball that he really loves. He played with it off and on all evening!

When we finished at Wal-mart, we had to go to 24 Hour Fitness to cancel my membership. They offered me a 6-month freeze when I told them my reason for cancelling (the Kids Club makes me nervous for my little guy, who doesn't talk yet, is very attached to me, and is easily knocked down as a newish walker.) Because of that, I have little-to-no time to go, unless I go the second Brian walks in the door from work, then we have a quick late dinner, then bed. No thanks on that; I would hardly ever see my husband. I treasure the relaxed, happy evenings with Brian and Gage too much. So I took them up on the 6-month freeze. By the time six months has passed, hopefully the Kids Club will seem more attractive us. And maybe Gage would enjoy it. Hey, if it doesn't work out that way, I can always cancel in October.

Then we came home, so I could start dinner. I was making breaded, baked chicken breasts (which were delicious.) Gage wanted to play ball, so he would throw it over the baby gate into the kitchen and I would throw it back out. When Brian came home, he took over the ball-playing, which sped the cooking process for me. We ate, took Chevy for a little walk, and settled in for the Biggest Loser.

It was a good one this week, with the contestants being in New Zealand. I won't give you any spoilers, but there were some tears shed at the elimination. The eliminated player is rockin' it at home and had already revisited New Zealand. Is it just me, or do you wonder if NBC has to pay the players something while they're on the show?! How many people could just up and leave their households without one income for who-knows-how-long? There has to be something going to the families of the players, monetarily. Something tonight really bothered me, too. Moses was talking about his dad having gone to New Zealand as a kid to get an education. He was saying how proud his dad would be to know Moses was there. So Bob whips out his cell phone and tells Moses it is breaking the rules, but he can call his dad and let him know he is in NZ. Ok, seriously? They took a THIRTEEN hour flight to another country, and these guys' families don't even know their loved ones are out of the country? That is awful to me. What if their plane crashed, can you imagine? I can't. I still enjoy the Biggest Loser, don't get me wrong. I'm just sayin'.

If you don't watch the Biggest Loser, sorry about that ramble. If you watch any reality show with a big cash payout to the winner at the end, you still must wonder about the paycheck thing though. Seriously, could you afford to leave your family without your income for a non-determined amount of time, on the gamble that you MIGHT win a big prize? I know I couldn't.

Anyway, after Biggest Loser, Gage ate a snack and we all went to bed! Now just Chevy and I are awake. But I heard her crash out in the living room, so maybe it is time for me to do the same. Just not in the living room. Fortunately, my nap refuser did not turn into a bedtime refuser. He crashed about 5 minutes after bedtime.