This may be TMI for you, but it’s in context to the title of this post.

Last night, Jimmy & I finally found ourselves with some alone time and an empty bed. But my mind kept wandering to the problems I’m having as of late. His soft touches, caresses and butterfly kisses were, most of the time, not even felt because I simply cannot feel. I knew he was doing it only because I could see him. I couldn’t FEEL and enjoy his attentions.

This morning, I woke up and nursed the baby. As he was finishing up, I began to have a weird sensation in my right arm. It seemed to be coming from my head, which had begun to feel weird - I cannot put it into words, but it was weird. Sort of a pressure but not a headache. Also, for whatever reason, Zachary was quite a handfull this morning, wanting to be in any other position than the one he was at the moment, so he was twisting and turning and I simply couldn’t keep my hands on him properly. My hand began to feel this weird achiness to it and finally, I could not close my hand around anything (like his arm or leg) without a searing pain.

I called Jimmy to take him (and for some reason, Jimmy’s arm has been hurting him alot lately so he’s in his OWN world, not in mine) and I went down to make breakfast and coffee. While cooking, my arm and leg on my right side, continued to grow number - but not where I couldn’t USE it - just that it felt like there was something else On Me. Sort of like when you use a body lotion and it stays on you, but doesn’t really absorb. Sorta. It’s really hard to describe the feeling. But It starts at the top of my head and goes right down to my feet. on my right side. This feeling I’ve had on my left side but not quite so … "obvious" for the last 5 years.

I couldn’t even hold the phone in my right hand while talkign to my mom and cook.

I ate breakfast and came upstairs to log into my email, etc. The feeling subsided and then returned. The fullness in my head subsided. Then it returned but at the base of my skull. I wondered if perhaps I was having a stroke or maybe an aneurysm that was getting ready to blow. I don’t honestly feel like this was catastrophizing the situation. Jimmy didn’t seem concerned, though. I guess that’s a whole separate situation, but can I just say - it really pisses me off.

So I sat here, wondering if I was about to pop out of this little life. I decided to take a shower, just in case. As I was washing, I use this loufa poof thingie and realized I could just barely feel it scratching my skin. I shaved my legs and in some spots, couldn’t feel the razor at all. I shaved my underarms, and couldn’t feel the razor at all. I truly do not know what’s going on. I twittered "wouldn’t it suck if I had a stroke while waiting for the MRI". I wondered if I should go to the ER. Jimmy suggested I get up and walk around. I worry that this loss of sensation that I’m now experiencing throughout my body is permanent.

I wish my grandfather were alive to tell me how he felt when he had the first of his many strokes.

Jimmy wants to know when I took the zoloft this morning because he’s still wanting to blame everything on that.

I love him, but sometimes I really feel less than important to him. Less than … everything.

My mom get so upset when stuff like this happens to me because she’s so far away and can’t help.

I wonder what will happen tomorrow when Jimmy goes back to work - what happens if I can’t hold the baby? Change his diaper?

I don’t go to the ER because it’s $100 to do so and what if they find nothing.

What if! it’s all in my head … maybe it’s all just emotional. Maybe my body is putting into physical terms what my head can’t seem to work around anymore. I’m sure there’s a term for that but I can’t think of it right now.

Zachary woke up from his nap and I nursed him, WhyMommy’s (http://toddlerplanet.com) post about not knowing it was the last time she nursed in the forefront of my brain, and I took the time to look in his eyes and smile and hope that it wasn’t my last time.

My writing assignment this week from my therapist is to write about the things I value in myself. She specified, though, that it cannot involve my children.

How is it possible to delineate the two? My children are what define me. Aren't they? Motherhood has changed me. My husband actually made a comment once before about how I'd changed - I wasn't the same person he'd met. Well, of course I've changed. I had children! I was transformed from mild-mannered martha to SUPERMOM!

Able to change diapers with a single hand.

Able to leap tall piles of clothes in a single bound.

Able to see through the little white lies and get to the truth, justice and the am... oh sorry.

Able to defend my children as fiercely as a mother lioness. That's probably the best way to describe myself - my "new" self - a mother lion, protecting her cubs. I am always their biggest cheerleader. No longer able to just content myself with planning the day for myself or me & my man, I now contend with FIVE of us at any given time. Feeding, changing, teaching, correcting, helping, and always, always, loving.

How do I write about what I value in myself without talking about my mothering instinct? The way I know when someone's not feeling well without them saying a word? The way I can hear the first wretch of a sick child long before their father does. The way I can distinguish a hurt cry from a crowd of kids and know it's my child. Or a raised, alarmed voice. Or any of the other distinctions that my children make for me.

Perhaps the thing I value MOST in myself is that, on the whole, I am a Good Mother. I love my children, I do not berate them, wear them down in guilt, make fun of them or let them make fun of each other. I teach them about valuing other people, no matter what their differences. I teach them how to love Each Other, no matter how much they may drive each other crazy. I teach them about patience, even though I may not always have alot of it. I teach them to look at the world differently, and to have an appreciation for that world. "Don't hurt that bush - it's a living thing" and I mean it. "Leave that bug alone - he has a family too, you know." And they remember these things. Because of me. I teach them responsibility - being responsible for themselves first and foremost.

Perhaps the things I value in myself will come when I'm not thinking about it. But being a mother is what makes me who I am. Motherhood defines Me.

This post is part of a group writing project at MamaBlogga - I just love writing things for her writing projects, because it always makes me stop and think! You can see the other entries at her blog.

I learned how to make WordPress theme templates this weekend. Hubby was nice enough to wrangle the kids for a little while so I could actually put 2 or 3 brain cells together long enough to comprehend what I was reading. This is a huge feat for me! LOL

My Dearest Zachary,

6 months ago, I was preparing for yet another journey. A familiar road that I’ve taken before, with the outcome uncertain, and to be sure, I was scared. It was 9 below zero that night, 6 months ago, when your nannie & pepe snuggled in, nervously waiting for the morning when we’d all go to the hospital - me, daddy, Anthony, Libby and them, to greet our new baby boy. You were busily kicking me that night, as if somehow you knew that your time had come. I worried that you wouldn’t be OK - that throughout the whole pregnancy, something had been missed somewhere, and you’d face a life of difficulty. I worried that I wouldn’t be ok, and that you and your brother and sister, would face a life motherless.

The morning of your birth, we set out to the hospital long before the sun rose. Your brother & sister so anxious to welcome you, they actually bounded out of bed (which is SO unlike them). Daddy & I took a few minutes before waking up the rest of the house to just be alone and reflect on what we were about to do. To bring a new life - a new person - into this world - such a monumental task for two people who didn’t even go to college! (Ok, well, DADDY did, but he didn’t finish yet :) )

Then the house was a flurry of activity as my lists were checked and rechecked. We paused for one last photo of “the Belly” and your big sister giving you a kiss. As we drove through the cold, snowy morning at a balmy 4 degrees ABOVE zero, I secretly hoped it wasn’t my last time. Once we got to the hospital, things went on autopilot as I was ushered into my room and … prepped (such a un-fun word) to bring you here - to let you outta that little womb without a view. We were so nervous and excited! Another round of kisses and we were off to the operating room - more waiting as daddy forgot the camera in the dressing room - and finally - FINALLY, at 9:04am, Dr. M announced “It’s a Boy!” (which of course, we already knew!) and you were ours. Ours forever.

The past 6 months have been a blur. You’ve grown and changed so much, you hardly look like that little tiny boy who just stared at everyone from the french-fry warmer, not crying, just looking, wondering what all the fuss was about. Now, you’re up and about, working on crawling every time you get up on those hands and knees and rock back and forth. Working on walking, having finally figured out that if you push your body forward when in the walker, You MOVE! Working on joining the family dinner table by trying something new here and there and letting me know with no uncertainly whether you like it or not.

You’re a perfect example of a perfect baby. You’re my baby boy. And thanks to some wonderful work by Dr. M, you’ll always be My Baby :)

Love, Mama

I originally posted this to my regular blog the other day but would like to see what others might have to say about the situation. Thanks.

I've talked before about having some weird, intuitive feelings about things that were about to happen, and although I don't always recognize that that's what's going on, I've tried hard to really LISTEN to them when they happen.

It happened yesterday and I didn't listen, and although it wasn't a bad thing, I still am left to wonder.

If my ex-husband does read this, I hope he will not take offense, as the feelings I had were not specifically about him, but rather his actions on the whole. Because he is not a parent, I doubt he can possibly understand mine or my husband's position on this.

Now, for the explanation.

My ex-husband, who is not the father of my children, is up visiting NH. He is single, has been for the nearly 12 years that we've been divorced. We're still friends, and so I know for a fact that he hasn't even dated in that time.

During that time, he's spent his vacations and other time off with nieces (he has no nephews), including my brother's oldest daughter, as well as his step-brother's kids. He takes them places, and is in general, a fun, generous uncle.

Gradually, though, they've all grown older and have sort of "moved on". This actually started with my youngest brother & sister when we were married. We spent tons of time with them because we had no kids of our own.

Anyway, he's up here visiting. And because we have Zachary now, I'm not really in a position to do the things that he came up to do (water park, hiking, etc. ) so he's asked to take Anthony with him to do various things. He took him bike riding yesterday in the town's cemetary (because it's safe) and that's when my momtuition kicked in. He's never said or done anything even remotely icky, but the whole situation just had my hackles up. I mean - he's alone, with my 10 yr old son, in a place that's FULL of ... places to hide? I guess. I don't know - maybe it's just my imagination in full force, but I just had an icky feeling the whole time they were gone, and was very grateful for them to be back.

Today, he wanted to take Anthony hiking with him up a not too serious mountain. Again, my ick factor raised to RED and I just didn't like the idea. I spoke to hubby via IM and he wasn't either but was leaving the decision to me (but with the addendum that if something happened to Anthony (mountain lion, cliff, etc), that ex-hubby would DIE.

Greeeeat.

So, I finally came to the decision that I just didn't like the idea. But I didn't want to offend the ex-hubby, because he's really done nothing to warrant this kind of ickiness. So I said that my stomach is still bothering me from last night, and that hubby didn't want me left alone with the other two in case something got worse. Anthony was mad, but he seems to have gotten over it. Ex-hubby left to go hiking. End of story, right?

Or is it?

I was out in the garden with Libby and it occurred to me that we'd never talked to Anthony about what he should do if someone WE KNEW did something that made him feel weird, icky, etc. Probably because I want to shield him from that, and he's homeschooled and doesn't get around many people for any kind of extended time, it's just never been an issue. But all the WHAT IFs floated around in my brain while I was weeding, and I finally had to bring it up with him, without pointing a finger at the ex at the same time. I just explained that if someone did try to do something that made him feel weird, or anything, to get away and then tell me or his dad, NO MATTER WHAT the person says. Again, it was hard to do without pointing a finger or naming names, and just to keep it general and light, but I hope I managed.

His response was, rather indignantly, "I know, Mom" and that was it.

What would you do? Would you let your pre-teen go hang out with a 40 yr old man? Am I being over-protective/over-cautious? Am I letting prejudices get to me? Or is my momtuition a finely tuned machine, protecting my kids from unseen, and possibly real danger?

Should I up my zoloft? ROTFLMAO