And it's not just the zits.
Or the itchy red palms.
Or the flesh eating disease.
It's the extreme emotions. I can't stand extreme emotions.
I'm a red personalities. If I want to cry, I go and cry in the shower.
But not when I'm pregnant.
Ho ho, oh no.
Last night Kembry wiped her burrito stained mouth on the sweater I had put on the back of her chair. I couldn't believe she could be so insensitive. How could she wipe her mouth on my clean sweater? Why does the world hate me? Seriously. Hormones suck.
Last night I had a dream that everyone I hold dear, and I mean everyone, even childhood friends I don't get to see that often, all told me why I'm an awful person. I woke up in tears. And you know how when you're pregnant those dreams are just so vivid and they stay with you all day? Just not the funnest feeling to wake up to.
But I think Brett bares the brunt of all my emotional insanity.
Sometime around midnight.
Me- Why do you love me?
Me-Why do you love me? Seriously, I'm a mess of tears. Just leave. Find yourself a new, normal wife.
Brett-Go back to bed.
And instead of doing something smart, like exercise or yoga or doing something that would raise my endorphin's and make me feel better about myself, today, I'm going to curl up on the couch and pout and watch Pride and Prejudice. Chloe just shuddered. Let's just all hope I don't get personally offended when Mr. Darcy is rude to Elizabeth.