For the 755th time since I gave birth, I was walking around my house feeling ugly.  So, I said out loud, "I feel so ugly."  I looked in the mirror just outside the kitchen and I stretched out the bags under my eyes.  I ran my fingers through my hair roughly, as if I could make it magically grow longer that way.  I slouched away from the mirror and glanced at my husband with sad, weepy eyes. "What is your definition of beauty?" he asked.

I was going to answer and then it occurred to me that I had NO idea what beauty means to me anymore.  I am in some sort of indefinable limbo.  Beauty is not how I feel now and it is definitely not how I felt when I reminisce on moments past.

"I don't know... I just want my long hair back," was the only semi-intelligible thing I could come up with.

I feel old.  This is the first time in my entire life that I haven't felt completely young and vibrant.  Add to all of that a toddler who yells NO or NO WAY to virtually everything and the only things that entice me these days are sleep, pajamas and pillows.

I feel like my life is gone.  I feel like disappearing.  I feel like running.  Am I even here?  Do I have legs to run away with?  Can anyone hear me?

As I write this, Madonna is singing...

"I ran from my house that cannot contain me From the man that I cannot keep From my mother who haunts me, even though she's gone From my daughter that never sleeps I ran from the noise and the silence From the traffic on the streets

... I ran and I ran, I'm still running away."