I got me some blues

I'm down. I hate being this way, all self-pitying and such, but I am. I'm wallowing. This might be rambling and nonsensical - apologies in advance.

I think part of what is going on is post-marathon depression/letdown. The Pig was so amazing, so completely out of my realm of being, that it has taken on almost mythic, magical proportions...how can real life compete? Yeah, I know Detroit is coming up, but just like the Pig felt a few months ago, it seems so far off, so unreachable as to almost be unreal. My head really, really needs to get back in the game. I feel sluggish, old, and the antithesis of a runner right now.

We're all still recovering from whatever superbug swept through the household. Geneva developed a bad reaction to her antibiotics and is covered in spots so we were back at the doctor's office this weekend. We all have some sort of stomach thing happening, too, and my poor little one has developed explosive diarreah. Jon went to the movie yesterday evening right before Geneva got really sick and he missed the REAL show at home - she had a bad bout of diarreah so I was running a bath for her. I stepped out of the room to grab a towel and in the 10 seconds I was gone, she had another bout...all over the bathroom floor (she has been potty-trained for a while, so this was incredibly distressing to her, poor little girl). I got her in the tub and started to clean things up when the power went out. It was almost, but not quite, laughable. Jon started having stomach problems when he got home and I was up all night with the same thing. Part of this depression is just being weak and sick and worn out, I'm sure. I am also getting used to my new blood pressure medicine and my old med for insulin resistance, so my poor body is probably in shock right about now.

While Geneva was napping yesterday, I was cleaning out her drawers and closet. She is growing so fast that I try to weed things out a few times a year. Smelling the lavender drawer liner almost did me in - I remember her tiny little onesies smelling of that same lavender scent as she nursed. See, AF was 2 days late and I am NEVER late - if anything I am early, so I was really, really excited thinking maybe, just maybe...but no dice. I want another baby so badly! Yes, I know I am old, but we did get pregnant naturally last year, and I wasn't as healthy as I am now. Geneva wants to be a big sister and I want a tiny one...I miss nursing so awfully much. Having to wean Geneva overnight last year when I found out I was pregnant was just about the most depressing thing I have gone through as a mother; we were going to wean sooner or later, but at least we could have done it gradually. She still talks about "the boobies" and how much she misses them. It was such a special time for us and I have a lot of bitterness about what happened - if the baby had lived, then yes, it was the right decision to have made. But hey, let's really play a joke on her - let's get her pregnant, force her to stop nursing, then have the baby die and ha-ha! her milk is gone! Yep, the universe has a morbid sense of humor and I for one am not laughing. There is nothing worse than a weepy 2 year old asking for "mama milk" over and over - "please, Mama, can you make me some more" and having to tell her no. When I look at her baby pictures I just want to cry about how fast the last 3 years have gone and I am determined to enjoy every second with her because it's just going to go faster from here on out.

On a whim, I got a haircut. I was growing my hair out (again) but just not happy with it. It is not as full as it once was, and it just hung on me. I have had hair down to my waist and I have had pixie cuts and usually prefer the long hair. I really meant to keep growing it, but I needed some sort of change so badly. It's not a bad cut and it actually looks a lot more polished than what I had (plus it's super easy) but Geneva and I had the same cut and now we look so different! We used to wear braids and matching bandannas when we would go out - now I can barely make little baby ponytails in mine. Stupid, I know, to be worried about matching a 3 year old, but it feels like it has pulled me a little further away from her. Yes, I know I sound like a nut. I colored it, too, since the gray was coming in fast and furious; it's a trifle too dark now, but not horrible. I'll post a pic later on for a critique. Jon says it's sexy, so we shall see.

I guess I think that most everyone else on the planet has it all together and I am the one who is just failing at everything. My house is not pristine, my finances are not in order, my nutrition/fitness is all over the place, my marriage is withering from boredom. I am 43 and still standing on my head for my parents' respect and approval (a whole 'nuther story). I wonder if in 2 years when Geneva goes to school if I will even be relevant in the job market. Once upon a time I made a bunch of money, I was in demand and traveled all over the country for work, people respected me and were interested in what I had to say...wow, that seems like a looooong time ago. I remember when I was a tween how I used to look up the stars at night and the magnitude of the universe and my utter insignificance would hit me between the eyes. I feel that way now, only the universe has shrunk and I actually feel really insignificant to my own life. I am proud of my mothering, and nearly every day someone tells me what a good job I am doing with Geneva...that gives me untold joy and pride and a reason to keep getting up in the morning. Apart from that, though, I just feel unnecessary and unrelevant.

(That last paragraph really came off more melodramatic than I intended - please forgive)

OK, I'm going to get my sh*t together or at least I am going to go make some homemade guacamole for dinner.