I am officially in the middle of a winter-in-Pittsburgh blah-fest, created mostly by the dreary weather and my horrible cold. It is during times like these that I question my decision to have children- as it is so hard to parent kids when you feel like crap. I'm left with an amazing amount of guilt that I'm not doing a good enough job nurturing L, L, and B. I confided to my good friend Stacey on Tuesday, that I'd gotten through my morning by allowing the boys to watch T.V. until lunchtime. She comforted me by retorting that she does that even when she feels good. Phew- okay, maybe I'm not a total failure but sometimes it sure seems that way. Tom has been coming to my rescue by coming home in time to fix dinner (though he leaves for work at the crack of dawn).

I am beginning to fantasize about moving to Texas. I'm really struggling with the climate here. DESPERADO!!!!!

I laid with Lily for a long time last night, which I love. When I am able to escape from the random floating thoughts of all I have to get done around the house before I climb into bed, I find myself lost in a sea of tranquility with my kids as they drift off to sleepyland. Yesterday, as part of our typical night-time routine, Lily and I read a chapter (it was a long one) out of the book Hatchet, about the 13 yr. old boy who went down in a plane crash....very riveting. Then we started our new journey learning about the history of each first lady- beginning, of course, with Martha Washington. I am having such a good time being a parent to Lily-whose curiosity about history is so invigorating to me. We cheated and skipped ahead and looked at the birth and death dates of some of our most recent presidential wives and were rather stunned that it appeared that Lady Bird Johnson is still alive. We called my dad to confirm and then talked about the ages of Betty Ford, Rosalynn Carter, Nancy Reagan, Barbara Bush, Hillary Clinton, and Laura Bush. Then it was lights out, much to our chagrine. :) I love being a mother. It is my best life ever!

I had the luxury, thanks to my parents and their small abode, to stay in a hotel last night. I drove down from Pittsburgh with the kids for a short visit while the kids are out of school. Despite previous stints of solitude in a variety of hotel rooms, I found myself feeling amazingly relaxed- content, and willing to provide my body with some long overdue self-care rituals. I slathered my feet with foot cream which my soulsister Deidre sent me a year ago, I moisturized my face (yes, we're talking the basics here), and slept a good eight hours. Pregnancy is good for me- I didn't once look in the horrible hotel mirrors and glare with horror at my cellulite or my less than perfect complexion. I didn't once brood over past mistakes of overindulgence or vow to stop eating everything but salads. I just laid there, watched marginal TV, drank endless cups of juice (ruby red grapefruit- my favorite), and water, and admired my growing belly. If I could be more "llama-like", pregnant almost continuously through adult-life, I do believe that I would be a hell of a lot more grounded and caring of my spirit. I'll have to ponder this for a while, and, as I'm quite sure that it is an impossibility for me to jump species, I will strive to come up with a more realistic solution. :)