My husband loves to joke 'when mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.' Which can be true. I can make his life miserable *if* I wanted to. But I don't...often. Only when I'm tired, hungry, have a headache, cold, hot, feeling fat, sick, or need out of the house. That's all.
But honestly, the driving force behind most of my crankiness is a 34 pound variable.
For example....last night.
Morgan and I have been home since Wednesday. It's currently Sunday. THAT stinks. But Michael has been working night shifts, he leaves at 6pm and gets home at close to 8am and sleeps until 1 or 2. That means I'm Morgan's only slave 24 hours a day, with very little help. Have I mentioned I'm pregnant and have the energy of a slug? Yeah. And it's been really cold here; this morning when Michael climbed in bed (next to Morgan) he told me it was 6 degrees!! I don't have the energy to get myself AND Morgan bundled up to go somewhere without help. I know that sounds really pathetic, and it is. I'm suddenly 70 years old and need my husband to drive me everywhere.
But I always try to look at the bright side of life. Although Morgan and I are getting cabin fever, sick of being stuck in the house day after day staring at each other, I thought to myself 'well at least she's not getting exposed to all of the germs going around out there' ...there are some raging colds and a nasty flu going around!
HAHAHAHA fate slapped ME in the face.
Morgan was extra fussy at bedtime last night. It was close to 11:00 and she was still awake, rolling around on the couch, kicking at her blankie. I turned on Miss America and we watched the last 15 minutes. We caught the end of the talent section and Morgan put her hands over her ears and said 'hurt my ears!!!' and I had to agree. Watching Toddlers in Tiaras is way more fun to watch because they don't sing and they drink red bull and pull off their wigs and scream at their crazy moms.
Morgan finally fell asleep, half on my lap, half on the couch, and I thought she felt a little warm, but I've been extra cold recently so I dismissed it. I dumped her in her bed and climbed in my own for a little rereading of one of my favorite historical fiction novels about British history, because that's what every cool person does on Saturday night. I was asleep by midnight. By 2am I woke up to the sound of Morgan fussing, so I went to investigate. She wasn't even awake. Nothing irritates me more than when she fusses in her sleep, and yes it does happen. I didn't dare wake her up, because then she would want in bed with me. I noticed she was having a hard time breathing through her nose and assumed that's why she was being crankypants in her sleep. This continued for over an hour...me going back to bed, her fussing again, me going to check on her, rub her back, she quiets down, I go back to bed... then around 3:30 I hear her get up and see her walking down the hall with an armload of blankies. When I'm home alone at night when Michael works, I leave a light on in the living room, because that will scare away any aliens / ghosts / humans that don't belong in my home. I called for her to come to my room and she ran in and threw her blankies up on my bed and held up her arms like 'mommmyyyy pleeeease let me up!' So then she needed milk. And a clean diaper. And then she kicked like a mule and flailed her arms around because she was not feeling good and was cranky. We fell asleep sometime after 4. At 7 she started fussing in her sleep again. Michael came home at 7:30 and tried to climb in bed next to her and she slapped at him and cried. We decided she needed drugs. so he was able to get some ibuprofen into her. After about 10 minutes she stopped crying and started saying crazy things like 'the bathroom...it's so tall!' and I realized she wasn't going to go back to sleep. So I dragged my tired body out of bed and took her to the living room, put on Octonauts for Morgan to fall into a cartoon coma while I dozed a bit on the couch hearing bits of pieces of things like 'I'm Bob the Blobfish...' and 'you've got a strong grip for a little crab!'
Now it's almost noon. Morgan has been running around playing like nothing is wrong; like she had the best sleep ever last night. She can't breathe through her nose and she has a mild fever. Serioiusly WHERE did it come from? Do germs just creep into your home during the night and attack you in your sleep? My night light is failing me at keeping away all things that go bump in the night...errr...and all things that attack sinuses in the night.
So now I'm typing this, sharing this experience. My eyes are swollen, I'm sore all over from sleeping in awkward positions with a toddler in my bed and then on the couch, my hair looks like a moose licked one side of it, and my socks don't match. Yes, I'm cranky. I'm going to be in a bad mood today. I'm tired AND I'm hungry AND I haven't left this house in like 4 days.
oh no....and now I'm sneezing.
mama bear ain't happy.
but hey, look at the bright side...uhhh....
just kidding...I know life can ALWAYS been much much worse. I am grateful for all of the positives in my life, but I am allowed to be grouchy and a bad mood every so often. That's my rule.