Oh, loyal readers of mine (i.e. my phenomenal family and friends), you don't cease to amaze me with your support. I shouldn't have hesitated so long in coming out with my tails of woe as a postpartumly-bummed mom of two. Since I decided to answer the "How are you?" question honestly, I've gotten nothing but love (except maybe from the grocery store clerk who would have preferred the anticipated "Fine, thank you"). And here's the thing, really I AM doing fine, and I know how blessed I am and how much worse things could be ('cuz honestly they aren't bad); I'm just not quite me. But I guess I'm also realizing that maybe I need to better figure out who 'Me' is.

I was telling the girls at Book Club last night [Hi! And I still think that we should allow a new member to join, and I'm willing to write an entire blog session on why, if need-be and it's not just because our new potential member is a friend of mine and she's great :) ] that a few years ago, a much wiser (and yes, older) friend asked me how old I was. When I told her 22 or 23 (whenever it was), she said, "Oh! So, you don't even really know who you are. You haven't reached that mid-to-late-twenties-read-Self-Help-books stage yet." Of course, I immediately got defensive: "Please! Like I would ever need to read Self-Help Books. I have a totally, clearly defined sense of self." Um, so now that I'm the ripe old age of 26...anyone know any good Self-Help books? I'm in the market for one.

Part of it, I know, is the whole struggle of the Mom thing. I wouldn't change it for the world, I'm so glad that I get to stay home with my kids, and it's what I've always wanted to do, so then why am I not better at it? Man, it's hard. And people always tell you 'being a Mom is the hardest job in the World' and 'it's harder to go from one to two kids than zero to one," but until you live it, you don't actually know what they're talking about. Now, I knew that I wouldn't be the fresh, all organic ingredients, home-made meals on the table every night kind. Or the slippers waiting for Mike at the door type either. And I can't tell you the last time that I ironed. I also know that I'll never sew a Halloween costume. But, still! And then we (Moms) have all this weird self-inflicted mom-guilt if we do make or take time for ourselves. Although, I am willing (sheepishly) to admit that I think I do a pretty good job of getting that me time. And Mike is certainly great at helping me get those much-needed breaks too. I just keep thinking about the Oprah a few years ago when Mom's were finally 'telling it like it is' -- how much nursing can hurt and how (as one woman put it) "no one told me that being a Mom would suck 80% of the time."

Matthew and Zachary are both supposedly napping right now which means that I automatically SHOULD turn into Productive-Mom (picture a cape clad Mom -- home-made, of course, with duster in one hand -- I don't even own one -- and cookbook in the other so that meal menus can be planned out weeks in advance...all the while folding the mountain of laundry with feet or the magical extra limbs that all super moms must grow). BUT instead of being Productive-Mom, I'm 'self-medicating' with a fudgesicle (sugar free, at least) and my blog. I was thinking that I'd even try to squeeze in some Pilates before I release Matthew from his anti-nap naptime. And maybe I'll even do some self-helping by researching self-help literature.

Better sign off before I'm completely out of my Me time!