It should probably be a rule that cashiers don't comment on the amount of junk food you buy. But maybe this one couldn't help himself when I showed up at his register with 10 truffle bars, 2 six-packs of Hershey's chocolate bars, and two bags of giant marshmallows. All for adding to the collection of chocolate waiting at home for me already.
PMS has hit me hard this time. A stab in the gut (like miniature contractions), a pounding to the head, and not one ounce of patience left. I'm moody, cranky, hot-tempered, and so tired I've been rendered nearly useless as a mommy. I regained the pound I lost, I grew a beard of zits, and my throat hurts from the number of times I failed at keeping my voice in a reasonable talking range (my excuse? Ender was opera-sobbing so loud he couldn't hear me to even start being comforted...and I was far away trapped on the couch nursing Scarlett) (I still don't feel justified about it). I admitted to Michael that I hate having neighbors on days like this because I'm sure they can hear me...
Arg! And my legs are hairy again! Didn't I shave recently enough?
Being "sick" when you're a mom is so hard. Duties never do end. I mean, the kids live with you, and their kind of living needs more help than I ever thought before I was a mom. Days like today, I feel like all I really can do is make sure they keep living. We're down to basic survival here. Curled up on the couch. Ugh.
The only thing keeping me from hauling out the carton of chocolate ice cream is that I don't want to share.