Dellabee and Me

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I am grumpy.

I am so grumpy, I am sick of hearing myself. Everything I say has that bitchy edge to it. All I have done for the past week is glare while semi-yelling/shrieking at my kids or the dog. Literally, I am giving me a headache.

This is likely but a spoke in the wheel of my menstrual cycle. If so, I should be back to normal in another week or 2. If not, well, I think I might need to find a good doctor here and see about getting some happy pills.

I know – ooooohhh, she said happy pills. I did. I have been on antidepressants twice in the last 3 years. I have been parenting for nearly five. Think there is a connection?

It is true, I think, that our children make us crazy. Not only is it in dealing with the shenanigans they pull – my 2 year old continually patting the flat-screen tv with unidentifiable schmutz on her hands despite my threats and glares and the continuing round of time-outs, or being forced to watch the same movie for 3 weeks straight in every waking hour. It is the whiplash of emotions that get to me, how in the span of less than a minute I can go from wanting to inflict grievous bodily injury on my child for laying under the throw rug like its a blanket to wanting to weep and melt into a pink froth because she has crawled into my grudge-filled lap to say “I lubba you too” while I fight with the DVD player.

I often find myself at odds with, well, myself. How is it possible to feel completely conflicting emotions in almost the same moment about the same person? And this is on a good day, so imagine my struggle while in the midst of hormones and anxiety about money and being someplace new.

I think I need a drink, and to check that calendar again cause I need a breakthrough here.


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