i was crabby earlier. we had been gone for four days in another country, it was canada, but it still qualifies. jason and i both went to work today; isabel had school, it was a monday like every other, aside from the fact the house was destroyed and we were all exhausted from being "on vacation until 5:30 pm last night. i picked the girls up after work....which is no small feat. i did not leave the office until 5 pm, it takes at LEAST 20 minutes to get to papa's house at that time of day....but jason said he wanted to work on the porch and i wanted to oblige.
i was trying to be helpful in a situation where i would be the ultimate benefactor. i called aforementioned spouse who led me to believe that since being home at 3:00 pm he would be capable of at least starting dinner, so silly me when i thought when i pulled in the driveway at 5:45 there would at least be the pork chops that i thawed earlier marinating on the counter. not so. i had two unruly, crabby daughters, one of which in desparate need of a nap, on my hands. so, i was, what i thought to be understandably, pissed off. i made dinner, i helped with homework and attempted to mediate littlest pet shop disputes. (sidebar....do not buy my kids littlest pet shop anything...i will never speak to you again). there was one dispute that got out of hand and jason came in the door yelling and i told him to mind his own business, he had a porch that was obviously higher priority than what was going on in the house. apparently, that is not the most diplomatic response. i had my head torn clean off. we did not eat until 7 pm.
i am sorry, but those of you who know the beginning of the story know that he delayed himself on beginning this project and that he has not picked the most opportune moments to work on it.
i decided to overlook all of this. we had a peacable dinner, clean up, and pediatric bed time.
this leads us to tv time and drinks. cuddling....with no expectations....auntie flow is finishing her visit...the office and the soup.
time for bed. i turn on the tv in the bedroom, wait for him to vacate the loo, and then use the facilities and brush my teeth.
two things. i am still slightly hormonal and when i used the scale it said i gained 5 pounds.
i was upset coming out of the bathroom. i am lamenting my alleged weight gain and notice my pillow is missing. my throw pillow, which i have been using for extra support given my sinus issues, is there, but my regular pillow is no where to be found. i asked where he put it and i received pretty much the response i got when i commented on him working on the porch on a monday night, peppered with the "f" word here and there. seriously? seriously?
and given my stupid arse hormonal emotional state, this sends me into tears. tears warranting me climbing out of the bed and making lunches. tears that have me clutching the edges of the kitchen counters and going to my knees. tears that had me briefly clawing at my arms. how is it he can send me into such a state with one diatribe? how is it that i rely so heavily on his approval, happiness, and need for me that when he is displeased it makes me crazy?
he doesn't react that way when i get mad. he pouts and laments and then he grabs my boobs and tells me how he can't live without me and blah, blah, blah.
i wanted to eat in chinatown this weekend. i wanted real dumplings. do you know what we had? hot dogs from the truck parked in front of the hotel.
there are days when i think i could beat the crap out of him and walk out the door. which i won't. i hit him this weekend when he was getting irate because i was slamming the glove compartment closed and it wouldn't cooperate. i hit him...it felt good...and i told him to keep his hands to himself. i didn't hit him in the face or anything, just whacked him really good in the hand.
so hear i sit, complaining to the only people that really listen to me. the people that i know were they here when i sank to my knees they would sink with me and pick me back up.
i am sorry, but those of you who know the beginning of the story know that he delayed himself on beginning this project and that he has not picked the most opportune moments to work on it.
i decided to overlook all of this. we had a peacable dinner, clean up, and pediatric bed time.
this leads us to tv time and drinks. cuddling....with no expectations....auntie flow is finishing her visit...the office and the soup.
time for bed. i turn on the tv in the bedroom, wait for him to vacate the loo, and then use the facilities and brush my teeth.
two things. i am still slightly hormonal and when i used the scale it said i gained 5 pounds.
i was upset coming out of the bathroom. i am lamenting my alleged weight gain and notice my pillow is missing. my throw pillow, which i have been using for extra support given my sinus issues, is there, but my regular pillow is no where to be found. i asked where he put it and i received pretty much the response i got when i commented on him working on the porch on a monday night, peppered with the "f" word here and there. seriously? seriously?
and given my stupid arse hormonal emotional state, this sends me into tears. tears warranting me climbing out of the bed and making lunches. tears that have me clutching the edges of the kitchen counters and going to my knees. tears that had me briefly clawing at my arms. how is it he can send me into such a state with one diatribe? how is it that i rely so heavily on his approval, happiness, and need for me that when he is displeased it makes me crazy?
he doesn't react that way when i get mad. he pouts and laments and then he grabs my boobs and tells me how he can't live without me and blah, blah, blah.
i wanted to eat in chinatown this weekend. i wanted real dumplings. do you know what we had? hot dogs from the truck parked in front of the hotel.
there are days when i think i could beat the crap out of him and walk out the door. which i won't. i hit him this weekend when he was getting irate because i was slamming the glove compartment closed and it wouldn't cooperate. i hit him...it felt good...and i told him to keep his hands to himself. i didn't hit him in the face or anything, just whacked him really good in the hand.
so hear i sit, complaining to the only people that really listen to me. the people that i know were they here when i sank to my knees they would sink with me and pick me back up.
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