A Serious Case of the Grumps

I don’t know what’s going on with me lately, but I just feel so…blah. Kind of moody, kind of grumpy. Just constantly irked.

Things with Baby P. are getting a bit better, but it was still a rough week. There were a few days where he basically just cried from the moment he got up until the moment he went to bed. And then he woke himself up and cried some more. Sometimes when I hold him he seems happier, but then when I have to put him down he starts crying again. It’s really exhausting. I know now that he’s teething for sure. Poor little dude. I feel for him and I do everything I can to make him more comfortable, but the crying still grates on my nerves by the end of the week.

Blah! Party logo

Blah! Party logo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My house is an absolute mess. There is baby stuff everywhere. I only managed to make dinner twice this week. I bought a bunch of cookbooks and was excited to get to try them out, but they’re just sitting unopened on my coffee table. I desperately, desperately want to start exercising but have no idea when to do it. By the time my partner comes home in the evening I am completely exhausted and ready for bed. My baby doesn’t really nap, so during the day doesn’t work, unless we go out for a walk or something (and the weather has been so crummy that hasn’t been possible for a while).

I look in the mirror and I just look…ugh. My eyes are puffy and red and my hair is in the same messy ponytail it was in two days ago. I’m wearing yoga pants and an Old Navy t-shirt, both covered in baby food and spit up. I’m weary and I don’t have the energy or motivation to do anything except for maybe go to bed and sleep for a week.

And then I hang out with my friends, other moms, and they just all seem like they have their shit together. They’re laughing and smiling and their babies are laughing and smiling and they seem to be having so much fun being a mom. It makes me feel like the worst mother in the world because my baby isn’t laughing and smiling, and I don’t know if it’s because of him or me. I look at people that I know who are pregnant, and they’re posting pictures of their sonogram and their cute little baby bumps and talking about how excited they are and how much they love their husbands and I just think, “Ugh. Go away.”

What is wrong with me? No one else seems to be struggling as much as I am, or at least they don’t show it as much as I do. I love my baby boy more than anything in the world but good God Almighty am I tired and grumpy. I just want to shut myself in my room and not talk to anyone until it passes. But I can’t, so I get up every day and try not to grump all over everyone I know. Am I the only one who feels this way?

Pet Peeve o’ the Moment: “OCD”

This blog is a little off topic, but since it’s my blog I guess that I can choose the topics. Anyway, today I would like to write about my newest pet peeve: when people use the term “OCD” to describe mildly obsessive or orderly tendencies. I hear it all the time in instances like these examples I found on Twitter:

im really nervous about wearing the same shoes two days in a row  #OCD

I find great satisfaction when I can close tabs on my computer #ocd

If I chip any other color nail polish it’s not a big deal, but as soon as I chip a French tip I get so angry #uneven#OCD

If you do a Twitter search under #ocd you’ll find an endless list of such posts. It’s not just on social media; I hear people use the term “OCD” in everyday conversation more and more often. And it bugs the hell out of me. “Oh my God, I must have over a hundred pairs of shoes. I’m so OCD.” “I spent an hour alphabetizing my DVD’s because I’m so OCD.”

No. You’re not.

First of all, OCD isn’t an adjective. It stands for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and it’s an anxiety disorder that is highly disruptive to those who suffer from it. This post isn’t about those people who truly suffer from OCD, diagnosed or undiagnosed. It’s for the overwhelming majority of people who use the term as a catch-all for even the slightest neurotic tendency.

Being perfectionistic or desirous of order doesn’t make you “OCD”. It makes you someone who likes things a certain way. If you really did have OCD, you’d know it. And your biggest problem wouldn’t be that your DVD’s weren’t in alphabetical order. What you mean to say is that you’re a perfectionist, or anal-retentive about cleanliness. Perhaps you enjoy collecting things or keeping your house organized. It’s most likely not a compulsive mental illness, it’s just what you prefer.

I don’t find it offensive when people misuse the term, I just think it’s annoying from a grammatical standpoint. It probably doesn’t matter to most people, but I guess I’m just…nit picky…that way.