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I'm one of those moms on meds
The final straw broke about 18 months ago. I was driving my three children to soccer practice. “I have a surprise for ya’ll,” I told them as I lifted up the Hannah Montana Best of Both Worlds double CD. One disc was Hannah, the other, Miley Cyrus.
They chimed out “thank you,” “cool” and “awesome.” Then my son, almost 5 at the time, dared to ask to hold it.
“No, he’ll break it,” one daughter exclaimed. She and her sister promptly argued over who would open it.
“I will open it,” I said flatly. “Why does everything have to be such a big deal?”
“Can we listen to the Miley one first?,” my older daughter asked. “No! I want to hear Hannah Montana first,” the younger insisted.
“Mommy, do I have to have shoes on? I don’t have my shoes,” my 4-year-old chimed in. “And I want to listen to Hannah Montana.”
“Miley!” “Hannah!” “Miley!” “Hannah!” “Mommy!” “Miley.” “Hannah!”“Mommy!”
“Ugggh! I wanted this to be a nice little treat, and y'all have ruined it,” I screamed at the top of my lungs as I clutched the steering wheel so tightly my rings cut into my fingers.
The next morning I had a slight sore throat from yelling. It was like the hangover an alcoholic faces. Or the empty brownie pan soaking in the sink that makes a Weight Watchers' lifetime member cringe because she ate them all, one thin slice at a time, after everyone else was asleep.
This, I decided, was the last sore throat I would incur from yelling at my kids. It was time to consider joining the thousands of other women in the world who take prescription medication to help control their moods, temper, anxiety or depression.
I have a great life with three kids and a wonderful husband. But he travels a lot. My kids make demands, some fair and some ridiculous. I work.
I have no family in town. We get a sitter most weekends to go out, but I still feel like I never have any “me time,” until everyone is asleep. And that’s often when I work.
My doctor said he prescribes mood-enhancing medications about 10 times a week. He took me through a thorough exam, and I have to come in once a year to get my prescription renewed.
Maybe we moms should do more yoga, cut back our responsibilities, see a therapist, exercise more, put duct tape over our mouths every day after 5 p.m. Maybe we should do anything to avoid relying on drugs to become calmer, happier people.
But unlike Hannah/Miley I only have one world. And I want to enjoy it as much as I can.
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Sharon Kennedy Wynne has sunscreen in her blood. She may have been born in Buffalo but she got here as fast as she could, in time for kindergarten. She grew up in St. Petersburg, graduated from the University of Florida journalism school, and even got married at Sunken Gardens. She's one of the few adults we know who actually loves taking her kids to the beach. She has two sons and with 10 years of parenting under her belt, she's starting to feel a little less out of her league. She comes from a large family and loves to debate, so brace yourself when the hot topics come up.
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Freelance writer Courtney Cairns Pastor wasn’t so sure about having kids and how she would balance child-rearing with her journalism career. It turned out that her journalism training went to good use. As the mom to a funny, active toddler, she learned to handle him like she did her sources. Never ask yes or no questions (the answer will always be no), get him to be specific (are you crying because you’re wet or your tooth hurts?) and be prepared for anything because no two days are the same. When she’s not playing trucks, Courtney crams for her book club, trains for races and occasionally bursts into showtunes. E-mail her at 
Suzannah DiMarzio has it bad for the Mouse. Although she grew up outside of Boston, she took her degree in tourism management down to Orlando just to work at Disney and the travel industry. Of course, when she married her high school sweetheart, the reception was at Disney. She’s now a seasoned stay-at-home mom to two tweens and a toddler – and yes, that is as crazy as it sounds. Suzannah has her own blog, Comment Policy
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