Things that Make Me Cranky

I had that wrung out look about me yesterday. I just couldn't seem to get or hold my shit together for the life of me. Sure, I made it out the door and did the good mom thing by taking TD to a new and exciting playground but once we were there I got a case of the crankies. Or just maintained them it can be hard to tell with my roller coaster hormones these days.

Things that Make Me Cranky-

1. Heavy playground talk. Yes, I love politics and discussing them. Sometimes my head explodes listening to various opinions too. I draw the line though at discussing weighty world issues while pushing my kid on the swings. I don't want to think about the Taliban, child-rape cases, incest, warring countries, the suck-ass economic predicament our country is in or abortion. That's way too heavy dude and I'm just not down with it while my kid eats a cheese stick on the park bench next to me.

2. Those freakin' huge grocery car carts! Augh. Great idea in theory but maneuvering those things are a bitch. I knocked over at least one display of Russell Stover candy boxes yesterday and then a stack of natural deodorant while trying to buy just one box of trash bags and a toothbrush. When I tripped over a cardboard display sign that had fallen (probably because I knocked it down with my giant ass car cart) I was livid. It was time to leave the store. The fact that the automatic doors did not want to open for us and our giant boat of a cart just made my day complete.

3. TMI at the grocery store. Yes, I know, I'm pregnant and very far along. That does not mean I want to hear your REALLY SICK birth story. My life would have been just fine if I never knew that your wife's water hadn't broken yet when she decided to push and it sprayed the wall across from her when she did begin pushing. Cue Giant Splat sound. Or how it just narrowly missed spraying you in the face, which would have made you blow chunks. Thanks for that visual man, I so needed it to go with my everything pizza I was planning on having for lunch.

Candy Corn = Massive Meltdown

I know what you are thinking. TD wanted candy corn. TD did not get candy corn. TD has massive meltdown. End of story.

Nope. The meltdown was all mine and it happened happily in my home and not out in public. That would have been really embarrassing for H.

Call it hormones, a house over run with home projects, baby stuff and just our own stuff and I lost it. There I was trying to write, supposed to be writing/working and I just couldn't. The infant car seat was apart on the floor in front of me with the Jolly Jump-Up, excersaucer and taken apart baby swing. If I looked to my left power tools and paint covered almost every surface. Toddler toys crawled out from every corner of my home and laundry snarled and snapped at my feet. The stairs to my house were a landmine of items to be put away, I forgot to figure out dinner and grocery shopping was desperately needed. Did I mention I am on the verge of a cold and TD was a walking snot bomb? Yeah, I was due for a massively volcanic meltdown any day.

Every time I turned around someone was stuck, tripping over something, throwing shit around or getting into trouble. Someone was crying or yelling and it wasn't always me. Our shit was all apart. Then I heard it again. More screaming and crying and a crash and skittering sound that I could not identify. I lumbered my big ol' pregnant ass upstairs to find TD in underwear only snotty and crying. Candy corn was all over the kitchen floor.

It was in the pantry. On the shelves. Stuck in corners and plastic bags. Under the table and just well, EVERY-FREAKIN'-WHERE. I sighed deeply and tried to calm her down as I began to clean. And then. Then, I just started sobbing. Those great heaving sobs where I became the snot bomb and this massive feeling of being overwhelmed and incredibly futile gripped me hard. TD ran running from the room for cover and Daddy. I heard her telling him, "Mommy upset! Mommy crying!" Seconds later, H appeared and had to figure out through my sobs what the hell was the matter.

I don't think he quite got it and frankly, I don't think he wanted to. The man wanted his football game and a solid three hours on the couch with minimal interruption. I didn't blame him. A weekend full of chores, cleaning, organizing, painting, Lowe's runs and more had done him in too. Now his wife was a fretful mess on the floor and his kid was sobbing too. It was a bit too much for any of us to bear.

Twenty minutes later, TD was napping, the baby gear all put away, laundry sorted and started and candy corn mysteriously swept away, all by H. I was hiccupping while writing a draft or two and H was back to watching the game. It came and went like a tornado but I guess that is what massive meltdowns do.

Curses! Foiled Again!

Damn! I was kind of hoping I would be immune to the sap of the combination of pregnancy hormones, TD starting preschool and this whole Dash Two Factor but it appears that I am not. No amount of my looking to the dark side of sleepless nights to come, spit up happening and a return to the pony-tail look with no time for mascara is cutting through the mush I have begun to feel on an almost daily basis.

Double Damn! I am foiled again.

Yesterday, despite dealing with a very difficult TD who could have doubled for a POW camp leader with her nasty tactics of pushing all my buttons and testing every limit, I put her down for a nap complete with extra stories and songs. Who knew POW task masters loved, "You are my Sunshine" that much? She looked at me, face suddenly soft and angelic with not a trace of sinister leanings and said, "I want to be the baby." I immediately teared up as I perched on the edge of her big girl bed and kissed her. I smoothed her hair and told her not to worry that she would always be my first baby and my biggest girl. I hugged her again, kissed her forehead and sang her another song.

As I left her room closing the door softly I looked back at her and my heart broke. I felt as if I was going to dissolve into tears. Yes, she can be a tricky bedeviled toddler just like anyone else's but she is my testy pea of a girl and my first born. My baby and my big girl. My pumpkin. It's hard to comprehend that already she is going to be heading to school for a few days a week and will have a whole life independent of me where I won't know every detail. That while she will always be my first baby she will now be my oldest too. The big sister, full of responsibility and that there will be a new life that will take time away from her. Every time I think of it I well up.

I cannot imagine our family with this new being or what her personality will be like. I can only see the past and present with TD. Now more than ever I wish I could put life on hold for just a bit and reassure her a little more that while the baby won't be staking claim on her pink blanky, just her old room, she will always be my baby, my big girl, my biggest girl and the first key that opened my scroogey black heart.




*Off the sap-Does baby or kid need new shoes? Enter to win a lifetime supply here at MPR!

It's Beyond My Control

When it was hot enough to melt balls earlier this summer and my gym membership was frozen (trying to save a few laid off dollars) all I wanted to do was go there and do my morning walk. Ah, the cool A/C. The free childcare and the chance to actually move my body without having to push a stroller, bend down to retrieve a shoe, sippy cup or tossed blanket. It sounded like bliss.

Bliss on an ice-cold stick.

Now, gym membership unfrozen and the weather a bit more relaxed, the sheer idea of driving to walk indoors makes me feel nothing but waste. A twenty minute walk suddenly turns into an hour. Get TD dressed, make sure the hungry beast that is me is sated for an hour or so, water bottle? Check. Wrangle kid into car and off we go driving ten minutes to walk. It just seems so bizarre. When I think of the walking at a much slower clip than ever before I get infuriated too. Mad, even. Yes, yes, I know I am pregnant and things need to slow down a bit, but it's sheer frustration for someone who likes to sweat to barely work up a drop now. To look at the classes going on in front of me and wish I could do them and run my ass off and know that I can't. It's maddening!

Then, last night it seemed all my frustration came to a head and I realized what it all really is. It's that everything is beyond my control and I am sick of it.

I hate it.

The green monster is there too. It is not just that when you are carrying a child so much of what your body and emotions do is beyond your control. You have to accept that. It is frustrating but it is what it is. Lob in a toddler and the bizarre exhaustion and inexplicable aches and pains of a second pregnancy and Viola! You have yourself a case of pure frustration that is beyond comprehension. At least for me. I feel as if I HAVE NO CONTROL OVER MY OWN LIFE.

Throw in an active spouse who plays basketball, works out at the gym a few times a week, runs outside when he can and can swill beer, white russians and whatever else he wants without even thinking about it and the green monster rears its ugly head with a fierceness that has surprised even me. I'm left breathless with the thought. I don't remember this with TD at all. Maybe I was too busy being a desk jockey all day and eating sausage, bacon and buttered biscuits from the work cafeteria to notice.

I see him move his body in ways that I can't right now and I want to burst into tears. It's now an effort for me to roll over in bed. Or get up from a chair. I see him be able to stay up late without gagging or feeling like his legs are going to run away from him from Restless Leg Syndrome and I want to beat the crap out of something. He can swill SBUX grande lattes with wild abandon while I can order decaf and wonder if I already ingested too much caffeine through chocolate yogurt and my morning cup of joe. Oh, sweet nectar that is coffee, I miss our wild times. I miss your highs and ways of comforting me. You are clearly an addiction and I am your slave.

Then, I think about how inevitably after this girl is born my work will take a backseat for a while. It will have to. There is no other way. Unlike a regular job with maternity leave, working from home is always there and so is the pull to do something, to keep pushing, to be better, to find more work and make more connections. And really? Truthfully? That idea is hard for me to swallow. It's like I'm losing part of me and suddenly I'm just a feed bag who is trying to find time to shower and a pair of pants that fit. Gone is any control whatsoever and any power I may have constructed.

That surprises me too. While I clearly knew that I needed to work, I had no idea I needed that sense of power to feel worthwhile in the eyes of not just myself but my spouse. It has thrown me off-kilter and into a bit of a panic-mode. I don't know why, it's probably all in my head. After all, I get videos or radio spots I'm in sent to me and he never asks to view them. Sure, he is proud of me and all, but I don't think my work particularly excites him. He doesn't need to feed the ego in the same way that us writer and actor whores clearly do.

Again, I know it is all temporary and in a few months we will have this (brake for sappiness ahead) beautiful little girl who will probably be named after some old Hollywood star and one that I cannot wait to meet. Just thinking about that moment brings real, not hormone-induced tears to my eyes. I can't wait for her to join us and be part of our little family so that we can all get to know her personality and become a different family because of her presence. In the meantime however, I seem to be struggling on daily basis with a total feeling of a loss of control in my life and not just my body. It's hard for me to even understand.

Is it ridiculous, even? Am I ridiculous?

You Know It's Been A While

When the act of someone rubbing your earlobes almost brings you to tears.

H has been gone a week and me, the non-touchy feely person, wants to be touched.

Spooning the dog? Hugs from T.D.? Just not cutting it. I miss big hugs. I miss hearing someone breathe next to me as I sleep. Because the dog sounds like a 98 year-old man with a serious sinus condition and has restless leg syndrome.

I had a facial today (it was free people!) and I fell asleep. I barely remember the face mask part but I do know that drool was wiped off my slackend jaw. I might have snored a bit too. My hormones are so jacked up that I want to sleep during the day and almost cry when someone puts a frothy egg-white encrustation solution on my face (it is just me or does the encrustation part make you mildly gag but become all at once even more fascinated with it?) and I am up in the middle of the night brewing with ideas.

You know it's been a while when you actually enjoy watching episodes of the Bachelor. I'm ready for H to come the hell home.

Thank God I didn't have a massage because who knows what the hell would have happened.

*Be sure to check out the fab coupon for Afterglow Mineral Cosmetics (all natural! and divine!) on MPR now.

In Which Target = Happiness

What happens when you go to Tarzhay with low blood sugar and massive amounts of hormones sweeping through your body? You end up with a bag full of stuff like this-

One Method lavender disc deodorizer which for some reason you felt you could not live without. After all you could not sleep last night because your house smelled like chicken soup or some other such phantom smell.

An entire bag of mini Ritter Sport Butter Biscuits. Which you then ravenously ate a few of before even leaving the parking lot. There is still chocolate under your nails.

One carton of full-sized cadbury cream eggs. You will hide them away and eat them in secret later, preferably in bed.

A bath mat. Why? Not sure. It looked very soft and fluffy in the store. Its pristine whiteness calling to you. It makes the old bath mat look like it hangs out in a sewer.

An ovulation kit. I have to know if this is the reason my hormones are so crazy and since no company makes the, "Why am I a crazy bitch today" kit this seemed the next best thing.

Bugs Crawling Under My Skin? Nope, Just Hormones

Ever have one of those days where you actually feel the hormones pulsating through your body? It is like there are bugs crawling under there or quite possibly your skin is about to jump off your body because it is on fire? Really? You too huh?

Yesterday was one of those days. I classify a day like this when the following symptoms occur. If and when three or more of these traits show up on my door step I basically have to just ride it out. Ride it out and tell everyone else to just take cover.

1. The creepy crawly skin feeling. Also accompanied by hot flashes and waves of nausea. If you speak to me when this is happening I just may flip out on you in a Tom Cruise scary fashion. Not the fun couch jumping Tom Cruise either. The Gawker displayed type with the nutty eyebrows and crazy fist pumping away. My eyes may seem like they are spinning too. Just quietly back away.

2. Suddenly Mummy begins to sound like Clint Eastwood. The low whispery growl that comes from my mouth is calm and measured but in reality it is at the breaking point. Don't mess with me punk! Because you my dear are never lucky when I begin talking like this. Be afraid. Be very afraid. Don't speak. When I'm trying to buckle you into your car seat please don't buck and scream into my right ear drum like that. Mummy can very quickly go from Clint Eastwood to Joan Crawford when she is in this state. Clint Eastwood is much nicer.

3. Narcolepsy or lethargy akin to almost going catatonic. Selp explanatory and it just comes over me. Then it's gone and I'm wired again because the bugs! The bugs! are back and worming around my body.

4. Eating everything in sight and then hating everything I just ate. This includes eating things like, well, everything in sight. Don't make me talk about it. I might bite off a finger if you try and make me share when I'm in this mode. If you like your digits then get away from my plate.

5. Consuming too much caffiene to counteract the intense lethargy only to have it be counterproductive causing me to go into a state of what I can only deem close to 'roid rage' but I'll call it 'sbux rage'. In the event that I begin downing cups of caffiene in this manner just chuck the Senseo over the side of the deck or lock it in a trunk in the basement for a few days. When the shakes stop I'll understand why you had to do that.

6. Unabashed buying of chocolate products. "Hey! We're at Trader Joes buying organic foods. Organic chocolate. Chocolate covered caramels and butter biscuits covered in chocolate. Oooh! How did that pound of brie just get tossed in the cart next to the canisters of chocolate cookies sprinkled with caffiene dust?"

There are many more symptoms that are smaller but just as lethal when my body decides to flood itself with hormones. It doesn't happen often but when it does even I can't stand being around myself. I just want to ball up in the fetal position and stare at the tube. Then I realize that the writer's strike is still on and the only thing to watch is a show about Redneck Weddings and I go balistic and almost rip the stuffing out of the couch with my teeth.

Let's hope today is better. Make your day better and visit the reviews (that green spiffy bar to your right!) section for a chance at a free Senseo coffeemaker!