Was that a wall I just hit?

I realized last night on the way to RCIA ( Adult religious Ed.) that I have hit a wall. I think that I have reached the "postpardom funk". I just feel sort of "blah" most of the time. Is that really an adjective? What does that mean? adj. (1) "Dull and uninteresting. (2). Low in spirit or health; down. Yep, that's me.

Obviously I have very upbeat moments throughout the day and I really get enjoyment out of talking to my friends and moments of laughter with my precious family. But if I had to rate my level of "feelings of spirit" I would have to give them a 6 out of 10. I think maybe a day away to walk by a lake and get a cup of coffee on my own might do this body good. (Interupting my day of self-centeredness only to breastfeed of course.)

I keep tellling Steve that I just feel torn. When I am on the floor playing with Ella I think about the laundry that I'm not doing. When I'm in the laundry room folding the clothes I am thinking about the coloring that I'm not doing with Paxton. When I'm taking a shower I'm thinking about the time that I should be spending with my husband. When I wake in the morning, I already feel behind. Where is there room for extra? Do I have enough in my life? Have I temorarily abandoned my volunteer activities because of selfishness or because of my feelings of obligation to my family? Or both? I should be beginning my day and ending it in prayer, talking to God in the quiet of my heart. He deserved that from me. Why am I having a hard time finding 5 minutes to honor him, as I know I should? Why am I taking for granted the my husband loves me no matter what I wear, if I have washed my hair, or if I have any makeup on at all? Doesn't he deserve to look at a wife every day that takes care of herself and how she looks? Is that shallow, or loving of me to even think about that? Or both?

Ahh....it's only 9:36. Paxton is at Preschool. Ella eats raisins and colors on the table. Shepherd has finaly "broken the dam" and had a blowout this morning. Steve is working hard. I am doing laundry and sitting here, waiting for my life to be full of glitter again. My dad used to say, "Hey, the sun will come up again tomorrow". I am sure that was his way of saying that every day is a new one and that we need to look ahead, and not dwell in the muddy sink hole that we're in right now. Thanks dad. It realy did make me feel better. Is it so bad that now, at this time in my life, I'd rather it didn't come up until around 3:30 or so?

Stuttering bowels....

I hate to speak ill of my children but, so far, two out of three of them have...how do I say this?....stuttering bowels. Poor Shepherd hasn't gone number 2 in FOUR DAYS. I am normally not concerned with other people's bowel habits, but when it comes to my own children, I take issue with them having issues.

Could this be a hereditary thing? He doesn't seem uncomfortable....yet. He comes from good solid, BM retaining blood. From my Nana, to my mother to me (Sorry for outing you mom). My claim to fame in this area was when, on our honeymoon in the Bahamas for TEN days, I withheld. Yep, that's right ladies. TEN DAYS. If you ask me, anything worth doing is worth doing WELL. No quitters in this family, ya hear? My new husband did NOT need to know that I did THAT.

Poor baby. Just poop already, will ya?

A little big hole..

We have started telling stories to stimulate the kids imaginations. Frankly, we learned very quickly that they didn't NEED any help with that. Most of Paxton's stories involve some sort of aircraft or a camping trip. Ella, on the other hand, likes to involve some sort of death in her stories. Yes, that's right. Death.

Once upon a time, there was a little big hole. Ella fell in and died. The end.

I am hoping that she doesn't understand the gravity of what she is saying. And, while I'm proud that upon entering the church every Sunday she prompty announces, "Jesus died on the cross!" very loudly, it is a little disturbing that she has a fascination with her own mortality. Oh, well. I suppose she comes by it naturally. I have been convinced lately that I am going to die young as well.

We have also started potty training, since Ella decided that she was ready after an encounter with "Prudence" and her potty seat. Yay! I discoverd that it is MUCH more difficult to potty train girls than it is boys. There is that whole "panty problem". We insist on taking them all the way off every time. No. Not just down, but off. AND....one would think that since she is a girl the potty would just go straight down into the toilet, but girls' anatomy is quite interesting. All she has to do is try to watch the potty come out and poof!- out spills the potty over the seat and onto the floor! Fun times.

Steve has started to go to Seattle for the day every Monday. I am trying to be REALLY supportive about it. I know that he needs to do it to build "team cohesion" and "boost morale". Secretly, I think he just goes so that he can get his weekly fix of something that I call a little bit poison, otherwise knows as pop. I think this because every time I get into his car after he has been gone, there are like THREE empty pop cans rolling around the floor of the passengers seat. I guess I should be happy it's just soda and not another woman. I'm really not sure which is worse though. When he got home last night he asked me what day would be a good day for me to "take the day off". Oh how I love the man I married.

I have started a food journal. I know that I am breastfeeding and, as the le leche league claims, the weight should be coming off with relative ease. Um, no. I am now convinced that I must be getting up in the middle of the night and taking trips to Krisy Kreme in my sleep. I'm just teetering up and down two pounds a week. What's that about? So frustrating. Have I told you I have food issues? I am trying to compensate by spending 40-45 mintues on the treadmill at least 4 times a week. Stay tuned for the continuing weight loss/gain saga.