Yesterday was a full day snow day for us; Since I was pretty confident that my daughter’s preschool would be dismissing the kids early due to worsening weather conditions, I just kept her home with me. I always like having her home with me.

I started the day not feeling well. I was worried that I was coming down with my husband’s illness, but my main symptom was nausea. Almost like morning sickness. And no, I am not pregnant. Don’t even go there.

My mom came over this morning to drop something off at around 9:30 and my daughter asked her if they could have some private time together. This worked out perfectly, as I got into bed with my exhausted son and we napped, together.

When he woke up an hour later, the nausea was bad and I felt a nervous feeling. I joined my mom and daughter in her room and then I did something that I don’t usually do, but that I am working on.

I asked for help.

My family is amazing. Not only are they helping me with my own recovery, but we are all working together to restructure dynamics so that we are as happy and functional and loving as possible. I am not a passive aggressive person, but prior to our family’s incredibly positive increase in effective communication I would have probably felt too guilty to ask my mom to stay today, which would have caused me increased anxiety.

She said she could stay for the day. She was off from work, and as long as she could use my laptop for a little bit, she could spend most of the day with us.

I didn’t realize that it happened, but my nausea dissipated slowly.

And we had such a nice day. Not one single electronic device was used. We played and we cooked and we did puzzles and art.

By lunch time, I was no longer nauseated. It was then that I realized that it had likely been my anxiety about being home alone all day, even though I am perfectly capable, and do it every day, I am more at ease when there is someone with me. Today, in particular, I needed that comfort.

So I asked for help.

It’s funny; I ended up making a nice and cozy lunch for my mom and me (in light of last night’s post, I will share that I roasted carrots, parsnips, a sweet potato, butternut squash, apple and ginger and then pureed it with a little bit of broth in the Nutribullet). As we sat across from each other at the kitchen table, a kid on either side of each of us, munching happily, I thought of something so funny;

“Mom,” I said. “Do you realize that if someone asked you what you did today you could say that you played with your grandchildren and your daughter roasted vegetables for you and made a fresh soup for lunch and we would sound really good, like almost impressive. You could brag, mom.”

The funny part came next, in saying, “But you would have to choose whether or not to include the part where you say that you came to spend the day in the first place because your anxious, almost 30 year old daughter, who is in postpartum depression recovery, was too distraught about being home alone all day and needed her mom.”

We laughed and enjoyed our lunch and I realized that those two things are not mutually exclusive.

I looked my mom in the eye at 10 o’clock yesterday morning and said, “Mom, I need you.”

And she said she would stay. We coordinated a way for her to work from my house instead of hers, so that I could just have the comfort of having her under the roof.

And then I whipped up a fresh soup from roasted root vegetables and fed my kids and did some other things that were good things.

I guess what I am trying to say is that you can be both functional and dysfunctional at the same time, and I am just starting to be able to realize this, which helps me to compartmentalize things in a healthy way.

And do you know what my mom could say about today?

“Becca needed a little help with the kids this morning, so I worked from her house. I got to spend time with them and Becca made a delicious soup for me on the spot. It was a nice, quiet snow day.”

And that would be the truth. And that is because I asked for help.