I'm having a hard time today.
I'm cranky. I have been for a couple of days. I'm PMSing, hormonal, sad, angry, and exhausted all in one.
That's not a good combo.
My kids have sensed this and are deciding that this delicate mental state of mine is the perfect opportunity to try and beat each other senseless when I'm not looking. Or, quite often, when I am looking. They are showing no mercy.
I've been fighting with my husband for a couple of days now, and this probably wouldn't be going on as long if I was not in full-blown PMS-mode. For those of you who have never been through the whole childbirth saga, when PMS comes back after having a child and ending the nursing period of said child, it comes back with a vengence so powerful that you can actually shoot fire from your eyes. It's like your body stored up all that PMS for the almost two years you went without a period and will release it all in the coming months, until the excess is gone and you go back to the normal amount of PMS. However, if you get pregnant three months after ending nursing the previous two children, your body does not have the chance to rid itself of the excess PMS and will hold onto it along with the current amount of stored PMS, creating such a buildup of PMS that, when released, can actually destroy small countries. Weapons of Mass Destruction were never found because they were simply hiding in the bodies of post-natal women. It's a conspiracy no one wants you to know.
The boys are supposed to be napping but instead are jumping from one bed to another, which was made easier because Ben moved his bed across the room. Twice. I keep going in there and putting everything back, as well as threatening their very lives if they keep it up.
Unfortunately, they are missing the power of the whole idea of "I brought you into this world, and I can take you back out again!" And are continuing in their disobedient ways.
OK, that is a lie. I never said that to them. But I have been thinking it. A LOT.
Well, that's all I have for now. I will try to be better tomorrow, and a tad less cranky. I don't think Marty has ever been happier that this is the week that he is gone every night, less the wrath of fire-breathing flame-throwing Cranky Wife makes me beat him to a pulp. You know, more that I did HERE.
Don't forget to scroll down (or click Older Post if you came here directly) and check out the Ask Tiff! post. Ask me anything, and I'll answer when I'm less likely to maim someone.