This post is a pretty serious one. If you’re looking for more light hearted reading this fine Monday morning, check these out from the weekend:

• Cliché – my cliché Friday afternoon
• And I Lived To Tell About It – ten miles on the treadmill
• Argh, Matey! – attended a cute birthday party and the FFF Features of the week
• An Ordinary, But Still Memorable, Day – recap of yesterday
• Self-Love Reflection of the Week: The Strength Within

I like to think of myself as a positive person. I trust that God loves, cares, and provides for me. I have faith in His plans. I believe in hope and generally approach life with an optimistic point of view. With the exception of one thing – my irrational fear.

With Peter out of town this weekend, I found myself engulfed by my irrational fear, just as I do anytime he goes away. Anytime he runs late without letting me know. Anytime I get behind the wheel of my car.  Anytime I see some changes in a mole or freckle.

I spent Friday night bawling like a baby at times on the couch while watching NBC’s special on 9/11. The testimonies, especially those of women who had young children and suddenly faced single motherhood, really hit me hard. I get this overwhelming pit in my gut that I will face something similar one day. 

I don’t know why I’m such a pessimist in this way, but for as long as I can remember I have had this almost instinctual feeling that I will one day lose someone very near and dear to me unexpectedly from a bad accident or incurable illness – Peter or one of my kids – or that I will experience one myself and have to leave them behind.

I don’t quite know where this irrational fear comes from, but I can never seem to fully shake it. It doesn’t make sense, but it’s always buried somewhere inside of me to come out when I’m vulnerable. Like when I don’t have Peter around or when hearing other women’s testimonies of such things as 9/11. I just sit there and think “could I ever survive something like that?”.

I know those thoughts and worries are nothing compared to the heartache others go through in reality (not just inside their nightmares), but I needed to share the emotional mess I felt this weekend. I guess I know how much pain life can bring as I felt it in previous parts of my life. I almost wonder how things can be so good now….and how it could possibly last forever. 

I don’t quite know where I’m going with this post. I know it’s pretty depressing and I apologize for laying it on all of you. But if there is one thing I do, it is write what is on my heart and my irrational fear weighed on me a lot this weekend.

And because optimism is what I try to do, I can at least see some good coming from this deep gut feeling I can’t seem to shake – It makes me pray for my family’s safety and health every day. It makes me cherish the time I have with them because we truly never know how long it may last. And it helps me know that I don’t have control over everything, only He does…and even when we don’t understand, His control is for the greater good.

• Do you have any irrational fears or worries?
• How do you vent the things you feel you HAVE to get out of your thoughts? Obviously I blog mine out. I promise to be back with my more upbeat attitude later!

I precede this post with a warning – SCARY PICTURES AHEAD! SCARY PICTURES AHEAD! SCARY PICTURES AHEAD!

I felt exceptionally nervous for today’s six mile speed run. And probably for a different reason than you think.

the pain. Oh, the pain! What would happen with a fast run? Could I handle it????

Okay. I may have gotten a little dramatic there. But I still had concerns about this morning’s workout – speed work, sore chest, bouncy bouncy. You put two and two together. And it for sure doesn’t look like Baywatch either.

I told you all that I have slowly been weaning Braedon for the past month. Well this week came the time to finally drop the last bit of pumping. My body’s supply had decreased to the point where I maybe got two ounces out of that pumping. I figured I would adapt quickly to dropping that final bit of milk. Ha!

While it certainly could be worse, the tatas are making themselves well known around here with the swelling, tightness, and tenderness. Oh sweet heavens that sounds straight out of a trashy romance novel. And it’s only about to get even less classy.

I have been doing all I can to ease the process and help it along…including stuffing my bra…with cabbage leaves. Yes, that bumpy mess you see in my shirt is a bra full of cabbage. Don’t come over for our stir fry dinner tonight!

I have also done the tricks of taking Benadryl to help dry up (only thing that worked after M), strapping the suckers on lock down night and day, and avoiding anything and everything that can encourage milk production. Well, except for one thing I refuse to give up…

You would be crazy to think I would go days without my beloved morning breakfast. I’m already losing hair at an alarming rate thanks to the hormonal changes. Don’t take my oats, too!!

Oh, you didn’t know you lose hair too in this fun?

A wad of my hair after one shower. And don’t say I didn’t warn you about nasty pictures in this post! I guess I better stop before I go too far over the edge. The good Lord knows I have already frightened you enough with dinner invitations including cabbage and tacky Baywatch references. Hope you’re having a good day!

• What’s the craziest “remedy” you have ever used?
• What’s one food you could not give up even for a week?