Meet Pete

Jul 22, 2010 | Filed Under: Candy's Column | Tags: Wah-Wah-Wah-Waaah

Internet, meet Pete. Pete, Internet. Pete the Pimple has been residing on my cheek for so long, that we are now eligible for a common-law marriage. The mole next to my belly button, a lifelong acquaintance, has agreed to officiate the ceremony.

Pete is more than just my unattractive tenant-slash-life-partner, however. He is also a sign that I have the blues.

Hey, it happens, right? We all feel down from time to time. Some people deal with it by guzzling gin or getting addicted to QVC or shaving their hair in front of the paparazzi. For me, depression is manifested in my skin, frequent trips to the fridge, infrequent trips to the shower and weepiness that seems to come out of nowhere. I’m lucky that I’m still nursing and have to climb four-billion-and-two stairs a day in our four-story townhouse; otherwise, I might weigh 200 pounds — like I did in college.

Oh yes, I did.

I have a long history with Señor Depression (I have no idea why I assume he is Spanish, except that he does make me feel like taking a siesta), explaining why I was the Oprah Winfrey of high school, only without the fame, fortune and “friend” Gayle. Lost forty pounds the summer before my junior year, then put it back on and then some by the end of junior year. Lose, gain, lose, gain, until all I did was gain, gain, gain in college, thanks to late-night pizzas, weekend keg parties and a three-muffin-a-day habit. Some people gain the Freshman 15; I gained the Freshman 50. Clothed in baggy sweatshirts and sweatpants, I was able to remain blissfully in denial about how bad it really was. Until one day I was sitting at my parents’ piano, banging out the classical masterpiece, “Heart and Soul,” when my mom came up from behind:

“Candy, your butt… it barely fits on the bench!” she gasped without thinking.

To this day, I still clench my cheeks whenever I hear that freakin’ song.

It took many years, but I eventually got my weight under control. I don’t know how I did it, really; there was no magic bullet. I think it was a combination of becoming happy with myself and learning the value of moderation. Candy’s diet tip #1: Eat one, not three muffins for optimal weight-loss results. Also, drink vodka instead of beer because you don’t need to consume as much for a good buzz. (Why I don’t have my own FDA-recommended diet book yet, I’ll never know!)

But I still get sad sometimes. [CUE VIOLIN MUSIC HERE]

Before my mom gets in a tizzy and calls to investigate the State of Candy’s Mind, let me note: I’m not depressed depressed. Not like the My-Dad-Just-Had-a-Stroke-and-Oh-Shit-the World-Trade-Center-Was-Attacked depression of 2001. Yeah, that was not fun. I’m just sort of blah, you know? It’s amazing how being a mother can make you power through most anything. Because you want to be present for your child. As soon as Skye happily throws her arms around me, or presses her open mouth against mine and burps into my mouth and laughs (true story, happened this morning), my “problems” really do melt away, as though she and I are starring in our very own corny Quaker Oatmeal commercial. For a while, at least. But the underlying blahs are still there. That’s why I haven’t been posting as much lately. And why I have ice cream sandwich crumbs under my fingernails. And why I almost started to cry today when Skye’s daycare teacher told me my baby will transition to the toddler classroom soon. The only thing that kept me from crawling into Skye’s storage cubby and blubbering was the fact that, as my mom would surely tell you, my butt would not fit in it.

Hard to put my finger on the cause of my blues. Our unraveling house, complete with a leaking air conditioner and wet carpet that had to be ripped up to the tune of a thousand dollars, sure hasn’t helped. Nor have weaning-driven hormonal swings. Or exhaustion. Or the fact that a toddler appears to have eaten my baby. (Seriously, WHERE DID MY BABY GO?) Or the struggle of balancing motherhood with my writing; spending time with Skye has trumped everything for me, so my writing suffered this past year — a decision I would not hesitate to make again — but I grapple with how to carve out more time for my career, without shortchanging my daughter, moving forward. Because I need to write, much like Queen Elizabeth needs to wear crazy hats. It’s who we are.

I should probably also mention that depression runs in my family. In fact, my paternal grandmother has been in and out of psychiatric hospitals a good part of her adult life. A genetic reality that makes me go, yeah, okay, yikes.

Or maybe I just need a good you-know-what. Which, coincidentally, is Mr. Candy’s suggested course of treatment for everything that ails me.

Of course I am talking about a good spinning class. Yes, Mom and Dad — SPINNING. To, you know, relieve my stress. *Ahem*

Ah, but spinning (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) is just gonna have to wait for now. ’Cause I need to buy Pete a tux for our big day! (Yes, I am dressing my zit in formalwear. Clearly, I am the poster child for perfectly stable mental health.)

PS — For those who are wondering, Pete and I are registered in Target’s Skincare Aisle

9 Responses to “Meet Pete”

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Sheryl says:

Sweet Candy (unintentional pun) – Life can be difficult and you’ve had a heck of a year – many changes and new motherhood *is* exhausting.

I wondered if perhaps you were a little depressed. Your loyal readers notice when there’s not the usual outpouring of words from you.

Hang tough, girl.
July 23rd, 2010 at 5:16 am - Reply
Sarah says:

Sheryl’s right, we notice when you feel a bit funky Candy. I felt the same way when Boogie was about to turn 1, I felt like the entire year just flew by and I wasn’t sure if I like how it had turned out. I hope that you feel a little less blue soon. *hug*

p.s- It must be a man thing, mr.Candy’s answer to your problem is my hubby’s answer to all my problems too “got a headache? Lets go the the bedroom. Feel like God is pointing at you and saying “You! Yes you, this year I will mess up your life!”? then lets go to the bedroom” lol
July 23rd, 2010 at 5:25 am - Reply
Cowgirl in the Sand says:

Oh Candy, I’m sorry you’re feeling down. I’m feeling some of the same as my Miss S heads for her one year birthday. I’m glad that you are able to share your struggle with us and I hope that we can do at least a tiny bit to help lift you up. It’s a lot harder for mothers to figure out our “new normal” than most of us expect, but you have a ton of support out here. Hang in there!
July 23rd, 2010 at 8:05 am - Reply
elisa says:

Dear Candy,
1.- Get rid of the zit ASAP
2.- Drop Sky at the Daycare and then go and buy yourself something nice… put-the-sweatpants-L-size-away. If your don’t want to buy more clothing, then look for something nice in your closet.
3.- Do not make any more unnecessary trips to the refrigerator… you know what I mean.
3.- Go out with Mr. Candy for a dinner date, movie, weekend, whatever, JUST THE TWO OF YOU, and do it without any regrets and after have your own private spinning class.
Doing these things will not make you a bad mother, is just that happy parents translate into happy children.
July 23rd, 2010 at 9:12 am - Reply
kate says:

Candy:

I am so sorry to hear that you are not yourself. You bring me joy almost every day. It is important that you take care of yourself — whatever it is that you feel like doing, whether that’s being sad, being lazy, eating, shopping, exercising, watching a sad movie, watching a funny movie, whatever — because your baby will grow up imitating your care for yourself. So if you soldier on, so will she, denying her sadness or whatever. By acknowledging your sadness, and even wallowing in it, you are showing her that your – and her – feelings are important. Wallow away, girl. Then watch a sad movie; then a silly one. Because you’re worth it.

Take case,

Kate
July 23rd, 2010 at 10:30 am - Reply
Candy says:

Thanks for the support and advice, ladies. You do indeed lift my spirits!

I hesitated to write this post because the site is called The LAUGHING Stork, after all — but I figured you could tell something was “off” and deserved some insight from me. I also figured many people could relate, so why not share my story and let them know they’re not alone. And, as it turned out, just writing this post was very cathartic.

Cowgirl hit the nail on the head — figuring out the “new normal” is tough. And there is something about approaching the one-year milestone that really slaps you in the face, making you realize how quickly life flies by, both your life *and* your child’s. It’s a tad unsettling.

We head to the East Coast tomorrow for the family/birthday party rounds. Visiting family isn’t exactly a vacation (and, oh, how I dread flying with our squirmy girl), but at least Mr. Candy and I will be able to have our long-overdue date!

Again, thanks, guys. I already feel the cloud lifting. No joke.

xoxo,
Candy
July 23rd, 2010 at 2:42 pm - Reply
Mr. Candy says:

Great. So now I have both Skye and Pete keeping me from my “spinning classes”. If this keeps up, I am going to start to break out too.
July 24th, 2010 at 12:22 am - Reply
Candy says:

Such a sensitive hubby I have!
July 24th, 2010 at 6:14 am - Reply
Mrs. Harrison Ford says:

Spinning class? Seriously?!! Seriously?? Mr. Candy, I love you, but you’re channeling a bit of Tom ala War of the Worlds/Couch Jumping/”I know the history of psychology”/”Don’t be glib” Cruise. We women are complex beings.

On a serious note: Candy, if the down feelings do continue, go see a psychiatrist. They’ll take care of the meds. They can suggest a psychologist for you. I’ve had anxiety/depression for 10+ years and that helped me a bunch.
July 26th, 2010 at 6:54 am - Reply