Thursday, August 30, 2012

Holy Hormones, Batman!

You know that you are hormonal when you find yourself tearing up reading Corduroy.  There's a line at the end of the book, after Corduroy gets adopted by the little girl, when Corduroy says, "This must be home.  I know I've always wanted a home."

And then the next page he says, as the little girl hugs him, "You must be a friend.  I've always wanted a friend."

Me: Tears.

Lila and I were reading Corduroy a few days ago and when I found myself discreetly wiping tears from my eyes, I knew that those tears meant one of two things: I was pregnant or I was about to have my monthly reminder that no matter how hard I try or how much I want something, there are some things that are out of my control.  Turns out it was the latter.

I just want to go on record and say that it totally sucks that the symptoms for pregnancy are stupidly similar to symptoms for your you-know-what.  (Is talking about your you-know-what without actually saying you-know-what any better than just saying it?  No?  Okay.  Period.  There I said it.  I'm talking about my period.  And now we have crossed yet another line that I thought I wouldn't cross on this blog.  Oh, well.  It is what it is.)

And I also want to say that it really sucks that the disappointment and grief of yet another month without a positive pregnancy test (although, I've at least had self control and not wasted the tests the last two months) is amplified by the monthly "normal" hormones.  Therefore I'm a hot mess for more than one reason and I can't really distinguish where disappointment and grief ends and irrational hormonal crying begins.  If there even is such a dividing line.

And as usual, Aunt Flow (there I go again with the euphemisms) and all of her hormonal baggage arrived at a most convenient (sarcasm) time - the day I would meet my new students and their families.  Back to School Afternoon.  Admittedly, I cried a lot today.  In front of a lot of people.  I was a complete basket case.  (Where in the world did that phrase come from?  Pause while I look it up.  Hmm.  Interesting.)  All morning I was one jammed copy machine away from losing it, but I did manage to keep it together (mostly) when I met my students.  Which is a good thing because I'm kind of going for the I'm-a-safe-and-stable-person-to-trust-your-kids-with-for-6-hours-a-week vibe rather than the maybe-she's-got-a-screw-loose vibe.


I'm excited for this year.  I think I have a really sweet class and eight years into this gig I think I'm getting the hang of it.  Lila, on the other hand, is feeling a little fickle about school right now.  One minute hour and a half she's talking to herself in bed about how "excigaded" she is to go to school the next day when she should be sleeping (8:30-10pm, folks) and the next morning she's all, "I don't want to go to school because I don't love it."  Exact words.

Too bad, little lady.  We're going to school.  Wrestling match, wrestling match, threat, threat, bribe, threat, wrestling match, warning, spanking, tears, "Please Jesus," more tears, 15 minutes late to my morning meeting, cramps, sweating, mascara goops, big deep breath, more prayers...

As soon as I got home, the Hoover Hormone Dam released itself when my mom called to ask how my day had been.  "Really haaaarrrrrrrddddddd," I squeaked and then burst into tears.  At which point the Husband came home and, with a concerned look on his face mouthed, "What's wrong?"  I waved him away until I was done talking to my mom.  Then, I whimpered to him about how Lila didn't want to do anything I wanted her to do this morning (eat breakfast, wear clothes, go potty, wear shoes, wear undies, get in the car, go to school) and how our printer was out of ink and I couldn't find a working printer at school for my handouts (until my sweet co-teacher, Heather drove me to her house to print off my documents) and how the air conditioning in the building was broken so I had B.O. when I met my new class and how people kept asking me really hard questions like, "How are you?"

He laughed good-naturedly at that last bit, and told me he would rub my feet and I could watch Wipe Out tonight.  I married a smart man, I'm telling you.  So we ditched the crockpot meal I had made and went to Chick-fil-a for dinner, put Lila to bed and, true to his word, he lotioned up my feet while I laughed my worries away at people doing face plants into big red balls and muddy water.

Anyway, I have some more to say, but maybe I'll say it tomorrow.  For now, I'm just going to say that I'm glad today is over.  I'm hoping Lila sleeps for 16 hours tonight and that we can have a peaceful day tomorrow.  I'm hoping that I can get my life - or at least my emotions - together.  In the meantime, I'm super-duper thankful for this sweet man who fell asleep holding my hand.
what a guy


1 comment:

Dana Butler said...

You make even really rough days fun (NOT in an I'm-glad-you-had-a-hard-day kind of way) to read about. :) Seriously, I'm really sorry it was so rough. And I'm bummed you're not getting ready to leave to come to my house right now. But.... praying for you and loving you. Maybe one of these evenings after our kiddos are asleep we can chat a bit since our naptimes SO don't line up... sigh. :) xo