Today, Right This Minute.

It's one of those days.

I went to bed last night ready to wake up and tackle the day, ready to hit the ground running. But it's 6:49 a.m and the day has already tackled me, has me pinned to the mat. My throat aches, my head throbs, my body is heavy- and not just in reference to the last 10 lbs of baby weight that are still holding onto my thighs for dear life. I imagine for one second that I can just turn over and go back to sleep for a few hours. (Okay, a few days). What if I could just go make a cup of tea, soak myself to the bone in a steamy shower and give myself even an hour to try and swim out of my dense, foggy state?

Today right this minute, I feel broken. I feel sick. Correction: I am sick. Jake is out the door for work at 8:05 and I realize we've barely even spoken this morning. I miss him. Odd how you can miss someone who sleeps beside you every night. I miss talking to him. I miss having coherent thoughts of my own. There may not be that much space between us, but there's just enough distance to fit two small, precious children. Will that distance grow as quickly as they do? I'm afraid of becoming a statistic: a husband and wife who essentially become glorified roommates, sharing a mortgage and divvying up chores and after school activities. I know deep down that we're okay, and that we'll always be okay- and that even when we're not, we'll find our way back. We always have. But today, I wish I was a little more "wife," and a little less "mommy." I wish my body belonged to me again. And so I continue my love/hate relationship with breastfeeding. 3 months down, 9 to go? Maybe only 6?

I sit on the couch listening to Ella chatter in her room and today, right this minute, I don't feel like I'm enough for her. She'll want to go outside and play. She'll want me to get down on the floor and wrestle with her and I know I don't have it in me. So it'll be a morning with Nick Jr and all of our animated friends. I have all of the theme songs memorized. Actually, so does she. Why does that suddenly make feel guilty? The minutes are ticking before Milo will wake up and want to eat. Do people actually hire wet nurses anymore? Where would I even go to look for one? Okay, back to reality.

But my mind wanders. On mornings like these, I play a dangerous game of "what ifs." What if I had a normal 9-5 job, sitting in a cubie climbing out from a mountain of emails and sitting in hopelessly boring and/or unproductive meetings? I would probably call in sick today and put my "out of office" message on my voicemail. I can't be reached. I'm not available. Don't bother. Go away. I'll get back to you tomorrow.

But I can't say that to my almost 2 year old. Nope.

The boss will be needing a clean diaper soon. And then her waffles and yogurt, with a side of strawberries. Then there are the bills, the laundry, the inevitable blowouts and tantrums and spilled sippy cups. Today, I will find a way to keep my head above water at least until naptime, when I can let myself succumb to the tears that I know she won't understand.

The truth is that if I did have that 9-5 job I sometimes visualize in my mind, there's a very good chance that I'd spend at least 6 of those 8 hours thinking about and missing my babies. I need to remember that today. Being a mommy is hard, especially right this minute. But may there be long naps and early bedtimes for us all tonight.