someone might get hurt. it won’t be me.

For those of you that have been asking if this week is going better than last I’m going to share a little story with you.

Last  night I ended the night crying myself to sleep for being such a royal bitch to my kids all night.  Yes, they deserved it, but usually I’m better than that.  Usually.  This morning started with me telling myself no matter how much it feels like my innards are at war with one another, no matter how badly my hormones are trying to kill me from the inside-out, I will not succumb to the beast that takes over this time of the month.

{Yes, this will be one of those posts.  Sort of.}

Round about ten o’clock my little man’s behavior had reached limits that nullified his stay of execution,  and I just sent him to his room for the rest of the day.  It was basically to save his life.  I gave in three times after that and let him have “one more chance”  because I was feeling a bit guilty about what a psycho I was being.  {I will not share the details.  I have reason to believe CPS may be watching me now. (that’s a joke.)}  At this very moment he’s sitting at the table eating candy.  I am an unstable situation right now.  (And I am usually a reasonably consistent person.)

This is an actual text message I sent to my husband this afternoon:  “I’m not sure your son is going to live to see you come home.  You know that lady that drove her car into the lake with all her kids in it?  I can kind of understand that.”  {I still haven’t heard back from him.  Obviously he’s not worried.}

You guys, I am a train wreck.  If I  don’t get some decent hormone treatment soon no one in this house is going to live to see the light of day on the nights my husband is away.  My behavior and mental situation gives the term “stabby” a whole new meaning.  One that closely resembles the literal one.  Okay, maybe it just is the literal one.  I don’t even know.

So, no, I guess this week isn’t any better.  It’s probably not any worse either… but you sure as shit couldn’t prove that to me right now.  I’m one slippery step away from the loony bin.   The terror level in my house should be at a code black right now.

Aren’t you glad you asked?  No?  Me either.

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4 thoughts on “someone might get hurt. it won’t be me.

    • what kind of a treat? tell you what… I’ll buy your gas AND the treat if you’ll just bring the babe and come. I’ll even call the parents and tell them I’m dead tomorrow. OH- and we can watch movies. you can even pick.
      A day of debriefing might save my sanity. It just might…

      • YES!!! OMG I would LOVE to, but I don’t think hubs will let me drive that far with the snow and all and it’s my dad’s 60th! 😦 What about next week?- Could your sanity need saving then?

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