Monday, September 5, 2011

There's been better days.

Today is a holiday.  Today is a terrible, rotten, no good, very bad, hormone day.  If you are male you can politely leave the room, the rest of this post is for us women.

Every once and a while I have a day like this.  A day when it's best for me to stay away from small children.  A day when I should not talk to anyone, especially my husband.  I'm mean.  I'm fierce.  I could punch the crap out of anyone just because they look at me the wrong way.  I'm not kidding.

I woke up groggy, and after an hour or so of being awake, I knew.  I've been eyeing my calendar.  I've been having some of my tell-tale symptoms - slight dizziness, headaches, cramping, insatiable hunger, sore, tender, well you know. After I took stock of myself and how I was feeling, I knew today was going to be bad.  

Since I got up before anyone else, as soon as I heard other people stirring, I headed back upstairs.  I didn't want to make the children cry first thing in the morning. I can tell myself to not go there, to shape up, but history is the best teacher.  On days like this I've learned to stay clear of everyone, no matter how good my intentions are, or how I tell myself that I can keep it under wraps. Whatever 'it' is, 'it' seems to not be able to be controlled no matter how hard I try. 

I grabbed my shoes, my ball cap, and headed out the door for a run.  Usually running is my salvation.  I pound the pavement.  I run fast and far and all that miserableness and anger from the unknown depths, finds itself on the side of my running route.  Not today.  Today I'm fumed and fretted and by the time I got back I was ready to rumble.

This is what met me back at the farm.

Why do you think there has to be a large green piece of farm equipment on my grass?  My grass!  It finally rained all day Saturday.  My grass now has ruts.  My grass has ruts!  Farmer Boy had the unfortunate luck of showing his face at the moment I realized my grass had ruts.  "Hey beb", he said so innocently, so unknowing.  Two minutes later, he knew.  I had let it all out and slammed the garage door to make my point.

He grabbed his children and rescued them from the house.  I retreated to my bedroom and slammed another door.  It just felt good. It was my right.

Farmer Boy had plans for the kids today and that was good. They could be outside.  I could stay inside.  The barn went from this,

to this.

The pig that got sick this summer may have infected the barn.  We are planning for new pigs to arrive soon, and so everything got taken out and the whole barn was sprayed down with bleach water.

We have ignored the backside of the barn since we moved here.  It's a pile of weeds, discarded boards and pieces of concrete. Well, it was.

Now it looks like this thanks to the kids and our friend Farmer Chad and his skid loader.

While I was outside taking these pictures I kept my distance from the kids.  They had come into the house occasionally throughout the morning only to hear my bark and feel my bite.  They quickly retreated back to the barn and to their work.  Today, even chores were more desirable than spending time with the seemingly rabid beast in the house.  

After most of the day spent trying to get a hold of myself I'd say I'm still precarious right now.  I'm starting to become civil.  I think I can retreat into silence for the rest of the day which is far better than barking at my loved ones.  

I wish I had an explanation for days like this.  In my mind I'm doing everything I know I should.  I avoid things like chocolate, caffeine, sugar, fried foods, and salt. I exercise 5-6 days a week.  I drink plenty of water.  I try to get enough sleep although when my hormones are raging they tend to rob me of sleep. I take the vitamins my doctor told me to take to help with these unruly hormones.  I understand and believe that I am loved by God and covered by His Grace, and still there are days like today.  I have no idea, no answers.

I can only hope that tomorrow will be better.  

For their sakes, I hope tomorrow is better.


  1. You have NO idea how much I love you. Do you think that if we were in this particular state of hormonal whackiness together, we would fight? Or would be just be total witches together?

  2. I'm sorry Kris.
    I can empathize.
    so sorry...hang in there...


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