I'm losing my hair in clumps. Every time I run my fingers through my hair or move it out of the way, I've got a handful of hair. Of course, now what will I tell the cats?

"Just because I'm shedding, doesn't mean I'll hold you, kitty." (Just substitute in the words, "fluffybutt" or "fatboy" to correspond with our girl cat and boy cat for the word,"kitty." I am not down with shedmeisters.)

Although, Cowboy was my BEST friend on the weekend when I was pumping milk to maintain my supply, but simultaeneously reduce the amount Genny was getting at a nursing, so she didn't get sicker. He got a whiff of all that fresh momma's milk and he was rubbing against my ankels, my hands, my freakin' anything, just to let me know he was my best friend and that to him, I smell "just mahvelous, dahling" as Billy Crystal would say.

I think I broke his heart when I put the bottle in the fridge because he immediately had to leave the house, like right this damned minute as soon as the fridge door closed.

But anyway, I digress...fucking hair loss. I'm sorry, but it's bad enough I'm getting old AND gray, but then to start losing hair in clumps kind of makes me feel like a dog with mange. All I need now are sores, an odd odor and the ability to make it communicable, and I'd be all set.

On top of the hair thing, I've got the sex-is-icky thing going on. I read something over on Babycenter.com basically that said, nursing makes the body a lot less interested. Mike's been totally okay with it, but I've been feeling like something must be wrong with me, but when I read the articles over there, I felt like all the supportive things that Mike and the doctor said actually sunk in.

Hello, my name is Wendy and I'm feeling mighty impotent, even if I'm more fertile than a rabbit.

Any more, when I have sex, it clearly makes the distinction between making love and "just sex." We've always made love, but I've enjoyed the sex aspect a lot. Now, it's different. I love my husband and I want to show it, so I'm happy to make love to him. I just might not enjoy it as sex, as such. I just enjoy him. I don't know if that even makes sense.

I told Mike the other night, the mind is wiling, but the body's got some catching up to do. We tried sex this morning and frankly, I would have preferred to just stay spooned under the blankets.

Of course, that may be the exhaustion thing kicking in, too. The doctor is checking my thyroid to make sure that's not an issue. It was for my mom, so it might be for me.

And one more totally unrelated non sequitur thing. I've found sugar-free cheesecake at this store that just opened and I guess the only way it's related at all to the rest of this entry is that I'd rather eat that than have sex right now, or for that matter recognize that I'm declining in years and that a loss of interest in sex and loss of hair are only the first of a long line of symptoms yet to come.