Normally I am quite successful in reigning in my off-the-wall idiosyncrasies. Lately, however, I have not been as diligent about hiding-er-controlling my less than appealing nuances. I have to admit, that even when there isn't a surprise baby on board, I tend to like things the way I like them. Hubby lovingly refers to this as "high maintenance". I refer to it as "attention to detail", and without such surely the world would end!
However, I fear that the family doesn't see it this way and have been forced to suffer through my less-than-desirable over-reactions in silence for fear that my crazy will jump all over them. You see, with hubby home he can at least mask my quirks with humor or distraction. There in lies the problem...hubby isn't here. And I fear that without his intervention I am merely another victim to pregnant hormones run amuck! And my poor kiddos have no where to escape.
Nary a child wants to be caught leaving a random toy on the floor. An assault which surely justifies torture if not death. And my poor oldest boy had to suffer the wrath of my out-of-control OCD when he put the canned goods away in the pantry after grocery shopping. Upside down and backwards cans stared back at me when I opened the door...and I thought I was going to have a panic attack. I may not be to the extreme of the husband in "Sleeping With the Enemy", but I fear I may be just one over-turned can away!
Putting clean laundry away in the dresser should not require instruction or supervision, but I seem to have been proven wrong. Clothes hanging out of half-open drawers, clean shirts on the floor having fallen off their hangers, and discarded inside-out hoodies greet me when I attempt to enter the lair of the oldest two dudes. The horror of such a sight seems to send me into a mommafied tizzy. Luckily for the criminals, they are at the safety of their respective schools and do not have to witness my meltdown and the frenzy that follows.
Requests for special outings are met with a hefty pregnant-lady sigh and a possible flutter of my eyes. Acquisitions for family games in the evening hours are quickly rejected from my horizontal position on the couch. And extracurricular activities have become my verbalized nightmare.
I'm not sure if it's crankiness with age...although 30(ish) isn't exactly old, pregnant hormones and fatigue, or the absence of my hubby. You be the judge....crazy? or not crazy?
- I am a SAHM of 6 little dudes. My hubby's jobs require him to be away from home way more than I would like leaving me to fly solo more often than not. Since Dr. Phil won't return my calls, and Oprah has unfriended me, my therapy has now gone public! Here is where I go to receive cheap advice, reassurance and hopefully share some laughs. Honeslty, I'd love to make you laugh until you pee! So come, grab a cup of coffee (or vodka) and join in the conversation!