12 Days of Christmas Challenge: Postpartum the Sneaky Mood Disorder


Just last week, I put a call out on Twitter for Christmas Song Suggestions for a blog project. Today starts this project. Last year, I did a 12 days of Christmas during which I took 12 Postpartum Myths and explained them. This year, I decided to really challenge myself. It’s not meant to be as informative as last years but is instead a bit more free-spirited. I’ll be rewriting 12 Christmas songs for the next 12 days to fit the theme of Postpartum Mood Disorders and the experience they impart. Some may be more fact based than others but keep in mind the format to which I’ve constrained myself. I have to keep with the flow of the song in regards to syllables, etc. And no, I will not be offering audio versions of these songs. Well maybe. I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet. What do you think? (I warn you, I’m not the best singer in the world. Please don’t make me sing.)

Today’s post is based on “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.” Enjoy and have a happy holiday season!

Postpartum, the sneaky mood disorder,

has a very stealthy mode.

And if you ever have it,

you would even say it blows.

All of the other mommies

used to laugh and bond with baby.

They never let us see them

fail at their baby games.

Then one tough morning

Mama came to say:

“Postpartum with your mood so foul,

won’t you let me laugh tonight?”

Then all the mamas rallied

as they shouted out with zeal,

Mama, you’re not alone,

we’re heading off to heal!

Whatever Wednesday: Grandma Jane’s Silver Bells


My Grandma Jane rocked. She was sassy, outspoken, brash, and overly compassionate. Doesn’t sound familiar at all, does it? ;-)

There were closets full of sweeping silky gowns, bedroom high heels, and real fur coats. We could dress up in anything we wanted to as long as it wasn’t in HER closet. Oh, the things I used to wear when we were at her house. (My cousin and I even got into her make up one year. Boy did we pay the price for THAT faux pas!)

She played organ at her church and had an organ in her living room on which she practiced. You know what that meant, right? We got to practice too. She would casually give us lessons too.

One of the songs our Grandma Jane loved this time of year was Silver Bells.

We would sit next to her at the organ as she played, watching every place her lithe fingers would land. Then it would be our turn. We would try our best to imitate her but all we could ever eek out would be Chopin.

This Christmas, every time Silver Bells plays, I am reminded instantly of my Grandma Jane. So I pause. In that moment, I feel the joy of sitting next to her at the organ, drinking in her perfume (remember Charlie?), her living room aglow in Christmas lights, delicious smells wafting from the kitchen, her perfume, and laughter of all the family members roaming about the house. In that moment, my heart is happy once again with her memory.

Then the song ends.

And I, I am left all alone until the next time the song is played.

I miss and love you, Grandma Jane.

This one’s for you:

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