The post baby blues

My baby is five months old already! She said momma for the first time today. It's strange that she would pick this day to squash her little pink lips together and form that word. I don't feel like a good mommy today. I don't really feel like a good anything.
I met with a doctor today because I'm still having trouble finding my way out of this haze of let downs to cope with life. It is what it is I guess, but right now it's too much to handle alone. So the doctor gave me medication and now I'm a zombie like everyone else in this dinky little ghost town. I can't nurse my baby anymore. My last baby, and she's still only five months old.
He said I need to make a list, problem solve, re-evaluate my life and priorities. He challanged nursing and homeschooling. "Do you really need to be doing them right now?" He asked me. What else can I do? What else do I have to offer? He said I should do something for me, maybe go to school. "What about your career?" He said.
He apparently hasn't gotten the memo at the boy's club or at the publishers because, last I checked, unpublished chick-lit writer/ nursing homeschool mommy of four/ floundering pastor's wife with a killer stuffed mushroom recipe didn't qualify as a taxable career. You aren't anything until someone important says you are.
Money really is the root of all evil isn't it? It qualifies our effort and tells the world that we are something.
So I sat down with my oldest little girl, she's six and beautiful. For privacy I'll call her Glow worm ( she lights up a room with her smile). Anyway, we sat down over dinner and talked about school. "Real" school as she calls it. I try not to take that personally. She's actually wanting to go next year for first grade. She knows how to read already. Her handwriting is beautiful. She knows more math and geography than I did in Highschool (not saying much, but still impressive for a six year old). She'd do awesome in school. She's brilliant and polite, a teacher's dream. My pride is wounded though. I was supposed to teach her. I don't know how to share her with anyone really. . .not even her daddy.
My kids are my world. I can't even remember who I was before them. That's why I have to let stuff go. I have to redefine and self evaluate and pop a pill because (in my saine moments) I want them to have a mommy for a long long time.
So. . . my baby called me momma today.