Watching: The MTV Music Awards, which is making me feel positively ancient. Our cable company rearranged our channel lineup four or five months ago, but until tonight I hadn't even bothered to determine which channel MTV is on now. So I'd never even heard of some of the groups nominated. How did I get to be so old so quickly?

Thumper's Mother

I was feeling a bit low yesterday, but not for any particular reason I can determine. Maybe it was because I dredged up some bad memories for yesterday's entry or maybe it was the overcast, oyster-grey sky. Or maybe I'm sliding into depression again, I thought, staring speculatively at the half-full bottle of St. John's wort in the bathroom medicine cabinet.

Two years ago I was in the throes of a mild depression. Although it was never severe enough to keep me from functioning, I remember those months as a bleak time of my life when I couldn't find pleasure in my family, friends, or any of the things that usually bring me joy. I felt trapped in a Twilight Zone life in which each day was the same as the day before, and I was powerless to do anything about it.

In July 1997 I started taking St. John's wort, and gradually I came out of the depression. Once again, the sight of my children could make me happy, and I started changing the things about my life that I didn't like. I was on St. John's wort for nearly ten months, during which I enrolled in two computer science classes, lost weight, and felt like myself again.

I've felt that confidence and energy slipping away gradually over the past few months. Nana's death continues to affect me, so perhaps I'm just in mourning for her and a part of my life that is gone forever.

I did feel better today. But I'm not throwing out the St. John's wort, either.

In the car, Matthew passes the time by drawing on his Magna Doodle (an erasable, magnetic drawing pad).

"Guess what this is, Mama?" he asks, holding it up for me.

I turn around in the front passenger seat and see what looks like a random collection of lines and circles on the Magna Doodle screen.

"Ummm, I don't know. Is it a tree?"

"No, it's Sheena, see?" he answers, holding up his stuffed sheep next to the Magna Doodle so I can compare them for myself.

"Very good, honey," I say, turning around in my seat.

Matthew turns to his big brother in the seat behind him. "See, Daniel? I drew Sheena!" he announces proudly.

"Looks like scribble scrabble to me," Daniel comments.

"Mama!"

"Daniel, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all," I admonish him, realizing I sound absurdly like Thumper's mother in Bambi.

This exchange also reminded me of an eccentric old teacher my sister Lori had in high school, who used to preach: "Before you speak, ask yourself: Is it kind? Is it necessary? Is it the truth? If the answer isn't yes to all three questions, don't say anything."

Lori's comment was that if everyone followed these guidelines, no one would say anything, ever. Even innocuous conversations about the weather aren't really necessary, after all.

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