When I am pregnant, I feel things to the extreme.
Either I feel great, or I am about to collapse from exhaustion.
I will die if I don’t get a tuna melt, or the smell of it makes me gag a little.
I love being at home, or I will go insane if I don’t run out the front door RIGHT NOW.
I think Joseph is just so sweet that I want to eat his cute little face!! or I am hiding from him in the bathroom.
You get the idea.
It basically means that I am only fit for human company about 50% of the time.
The other half of the time-well- I’m a drag. Or kind of mean. Or both.
The hardest part of all of this (for me) is that I can actually feel myself being unreasonable.
I know that I probably shouldn’t be crying hysterically and hurling F-bombs at Brian during a normal “what-in-the-world-should-we-name-this-baby??” discussion.
It is like an out of body experience, where I see myself barreling towards the abyss of hormonal rage and despair…here it comes…wow! look at me go…
and I can see Brian’s eyes glass over slightly as he retreats to his happy place.
With Celine’s “It’s all coming back to me now” playing in his head.
I have decided that I really need to start trying to be more…reasonable?…sane?…let’s say EVEN-KEELED.
But, for now, you will all just need to love me through it.
So, If you’ll excuse me, I need to go cry for an hour, and then bake 50 batches of cookies.