There are days when I could use a break.

I love my children, and every day I am grateful that I am able to stay at home with them and be with them as they grow. I don't regret the decision I made to give up my job. I know that if I had tried to balance the both of them my life would be a mess, and I would constantly be short changing either my kids or my workplace. As much as I miss the people I worked with and the work I was doing, not to mention the adult conversation and the feeling that I could actually get something done... well, I don't really have any regrets.

But yesterday Steve came home from work and I cried at having him home again. I was so glad to have another adult to speak to, someone who would see what little monsters I had to deal with all day, and who could help me out by dealing with one of them as I made green beans for dinner, who could pick up a child when it cried if I happened to be changing the other's diaper.

One day last week my OB's office called to check up on me and make sure I was doing OK. The woman I spoke with mentioned that I was upbeat and had kept my sense of humor, which made me kind of proud, if you want to know the truth. But it made me think about depression, particularly postpartum. I had not known, for example, that postpartum depression can occur anytime during the first year after the birth. I would have given it a few months, tops.

If you've never given birth or done a really frightening amount of phamaceutical drugs, then you don't know how emotional you can get after you give birth. I mean, there are hundreds of hormones that used to help take care of this unborn child that are now swimming around with nothing to do, so there's a huge chance they'll all gang up on you and you'll find yourself watching Little House on the Prairie and sobbing your eyes out because Pa has to shoot a horse with a lame leg or something. I know this has happened to me. But eventually these hormones go away. Somehow. And you are then supposed to be able to get on with your life.

But the thing about life is that some days are better than others. And while some days can be chaotic and met with a smile and the laughter that keeps you from going insane, other days are just a bit more difficult. For example, after Steve came home yesterday I asked him to make me a drink, as this was the only way I knew of to banish the horrible wails and whines and cries that I could do nothing about. Mostly because there was no reason for them. (Let's face it - if a child is fed and burped and dry and has a clean diaper and is still crying so hard the cats have left the room... what do you do?)

I think what I'm trying to say is,I have my moments, and my bad days, and times when I want to give it all up and join the circus. There are days I wish I had my old life back, or at least my old job. There are days I wish I hadn't moved so far away from my family, or from my friends, because it's been days since I've spoken to anyone but Steve or the checkout girl at Wal-Mart. And today is one of those days.

I can' wait until tomorrow. It's only a day away... And Steve gets up with the kids and I can catch up on sleep.