Nesting? Or Cabin Fever?
Terence probably wonders when the body-snatchers came and took over his wife. I don't know what's wrong with me lately. I've had my normal periods of hormonal wackiness while pregnant before (when I was pregnant with M I actually hit Terence in the head once because I didn't like the jokes he was cracking while ordering at a drive-thru.) But the last few days have been something else entirely. I've actually provoked my normally-patient husband into retaliating, which is saying a lot. This man gets sworn at, lectured, and derided on a frequent basis by motorists at work and still keeps his cool, so I know I've been way out of line.
The other day he asked me if it was just too hard for me to try and control my emotional outbursts because he was getting a little tired of it. Poor man. During my morning scripture study today I really pondered keeping my mouth shut even when my emotions are wildly out of control and recommitted (for the millionth time) to be better. Yet not five minutes later, when Terence called me while taking M to school, I couldn't keep the exasperated, snotty tone out of my voice. (Granted, I had to rush back to my room to get my cell phone, which resulted in a couple of painful contractions.) I don't know how much of this to blame on discomfort and hormones, and how much because after six weeks, I'm just so sick and tired of bedrest.
Yesterday was probably the worst. I just COULD NOT stay down. Our dryer quit on us in the morning, with loads of laundry waiting to be done. So Terence set off in search of a reasonably-priced used dryer but left the house in a state of chaos. Could I just bear with it for a few hours? No. I picked up the living room. I folded three loads of clean laundry and got some of it put away. I packed my suitcase. I unpacked the boxes of baby stuff in the garage because everything needs to be ready for the baby right now. I knew I was beyond behaving rationally when I actually started cleaning up the nasty mess on the laundry floor where the old dryer had been. Down on my hands and knees and scrubbing. So much for bedrest. And of course through all of this I was having contractions, which made me into a world-class grumpy person.
So am I having a major case of the nesting instinct? Or am I just neurotic because I've been cooped up for so long?
The other day he asked me if it was just too hard for me to try and control my emotional outbursts because he was getting a little tired of it. Poor man. During my morning scripture study today I really pondered keeping my mouth shut even when my emotions are wildly out of control and recommitted (for the millionth time) to be better. Yet not five minutes later, when Terence called me while taking M to school, I couldn't keep the exasperated, snotty tone out of my voice. (Granted, I had to rush back to my room to get my cell phone, which resulted in a couple of painful contractions.) I don't know how much of this to blame on discomfort and hormones, and how much because after six weeks, I'm just so sick and tired of bedrest.
Yesterday was probably the worst. I just COULD NOT stay down. Our dryer quit on us in the morning, with loads of laundry waiting to be done. So Terence set off in search of a reasonably-priced used dryer but left the house in a state of chaos. Could I just bear with it for a few hours? No. I picked up the living room. I folded three loads of clean laundry and got some of it put away. I packed my suitcase. I unpacked the boxes of baby stuff in the garage because everything needs to be ready for the baby right now. I knew I was beyond behaving rationally when I actually started cleaning up the nasty mess on the laundry floor where the old dryer had been. Down on my hands and knees and scrubbing. So much for bedrest. And of course through all of this I was having contractions, which made me into a world-class grumpy person.
So am I having a major case of the nesting instinct? Or am I just neurotic because I've been cooped up for so long?
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If it helps, the only two times I've ever tried to leave my husband (like, for good) were during each of my two pregnancies. Pregnacy doesn't do much for our emotional levels of calm and reason.