As if my conflicting feelings on this pregnancy weren't enough, I feel like I have been acting like a rabid bitch. Excuse my French.
Despite the third pregnancy test telling me I'm pregnant, my two weeks of nausea that have passed and my ever present super tender but non-expanding boobs, I don't feel pregnant. But I sure do act like it. I don't recall being this crazy with hormones the first around. I like to think that I was pretty even tempered with a slight elevation in OCD tendencies. Nothing major. I was proud of myself for not being that irritating "pregnant lady".
But boy howdy, I think I'm turning into her REAL quick. And no sir, I don't like it. My fuse is as long as an ant and one day everything is horrible but the next day it's like heaven.
JT has been a pill the last few days and the candy didn't help today (duh) and he's been pulling his getting out of bed at night antics again. The first time tonight it was because he had to poop. Fair enough - he went in and did his business and then went back to bed. However, I told him tonight that I wasn't having it and he better keep his butt in bed. The trouble with that? He just lays there and screams for me. In fact, it was about 4 minutes after I lowered myself into the tub to unwind before trying to get to bed at a decent hour.
MOM!!!
WHY AREN'T YOU ANSWERING ME?!?
I CAN'T HEAR YOU!
MOM! MOM! MOM! MOM!
WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
ARE YOU COMING OR WHAT?
I couldn't take it. I threw my book across the bathroom and drained the tub. I stormed into his room and said, "what?"
"Mom, I need you to make me a pretend sleeping bag so polar bear and I can get inside it."
My heart was about beating out of my chest and my face was getting red. Seriously? This is why I'm out of the tub?
"JT. I am very angry right now because there is no reason for you to be screaming across the house unless you're on fire or something on your body is broken or there is a real emergency. This is your bed time and my alone time. I am NOT making you a pretend sleeping bag. YOU can pretend your own sleeping bag for you and the polar bear. Stay in bed, no more screaming and go to sleep. I love you. A lot. Sweet dreams...."
All this to say if I am not my normal self the next time you talk to me or I'm a little short in response to you - I'm sorry.
2 comments:
Jake is doing a lot of what JT is doing and I am doing a lot of what you are doing.
So much so that I considered taking a pregnancy test the other day because I was acting like such a spaz bitch. Not saying you are a spaz bitch. I'm saying that I was such a maniac that I was worried that if a nice girl like you could get accidentally...
oh, never mind.
I'm trying to say that having a newly turned four year old boy is hard.
But when it's good, it's good.
What's that poem? About the little girl with the curl?
When she was good, she was very, very good. But when she was bad, she was horrid.
Same goes for boys.
I'm betting that poet had a 4 year old at home.
Oh, and it's not that these boys are incredibly BAD, per se. It's just that they are incredibly grating for long periods of time.
I'm with Lora! I was leaving you a comment to tell you that I'm pretty sure - certain - that I'm not pregnant and Spencer's little getting out of bed antics ARE DRIVING ME MAD. I'm glad I'm not the only one who feels like she's being a bitch with a "I love you a lot" too at the end. My favorite is when he's been in his room for 2 minutes and yells to tell me he's slept.
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