Bodyscape

Six weeks postpartum and the skies are not cloudy anymore, well it's almost blue skies. This condition....postpartum is just another word for depression and I dislike it greatly. The only bliss is the baby and my body is royal wreckage. Aesthetics have a terrific way for affecting my mood. This baby making business is not for the faint of heart. Where there were curves are now rolls and where there were valleys, are now mountains (that part I don't mind so much.....actually that's the only thing I've got working for me now). Dark circles have set in from lack of sleep and my tears don't hold back for anything. Just ask J-P, he's lovin' my yin and yang moods. I wish the upside would be an exquisite bottom, but even that has taken a turn south. I'm still mending and beating the pity by working out with Traci Anderson. Apparently she is the personal trainer for Gweneth Paltrow and Madonna. She has developed a postpartum work-out that is cruel and feels more like punishment. However, is satisfies my need for torturing my body back into its' normal shape. I don't how we do it, we women folk, but somehow we do. For now, I have to revel in the glory of what my body did make, a wonderous beautiful creature.