This Too Shall Pass

I had one of those really great mornings yesterday-- I got up when I had planned, got out for my run, got the kids out the door to school on time, managed a half mile swim at the pool, just for starters. It was a great morning. In fact, my afternoon and evening didn't go so badly either. I had a clean house, got a couple loads of laundry done and had two new piano students start their lessons. Even the evening wasn't so bad. Granted, B went on an hour long crying/screaming bloody murder spree. But once directed to her room, she stayed in there until she had screamed herself out and then calmly came out and ate her dinner. (Go figure.) Bedtime was no picnic, but even still, I actually had all the kids in bed (though not asleep) by 7:30. Thursday sounds like a success, right?

So why does my Friday morning feel so horrible?

It actually started at about 1:30 am, I kid you not. I had to get up to go to the bathroom (I rarely make it through the night anymore, legacy of birthing four kids I guess), and for whatever reason, I could not go back to sleep right away. I started stressing about every Ragnar team dilemma I could think of which wound me up a bit. Then I realized that it was after one and my husband was not in bed. So then my mind went to stressing about what if this is the night that my husband never makes it home, and how would I manage the Ragnar and the kids if I'm a widow, and wait a minute, I'm going to have to get a job and what could I possibly do that would pay all the bills. . . .

OY! Shut up already, you obnoxious pessimistic brain! Mentally shouting at myself didn't really work, but I was so utterly exhausted that eventually I drifted back to sleep.

When my alarm went off Terence was in bed next to me, so all that worry had been for nothing. But my mood was still gloomy. I didn't have to get out for a run before school, but I still got up early to read my scriptures and make a grocery list. Only my scripture study left me feeling like something is fundamentally wrong with me and that I'll never be the kind of person I ought to be. (But isn't scripture study supposed to be an uplifting way to begin your day?) My mood dipped even further. By the time I woke Terence to come have family prayer before the older kids left for school, my eyes were filling with tears for reasons I couldn't explain.

Terence listened to my fretting about the Ragnar, about everything that's stressing me, and finally I started in on how there must be something terribly wrong with me because reading my scriptures was making me feel bad, when Terence interrupted me with a laugh.

"Oh, I know what's going on with you!" he exclaimed. "This is all hormones, Heidi. You don't really feel like this."

That brought me up short. You know, he might be right. I'm just starting my cycle. But it still feels so real, all this gloom and stress. Like I'm miserable for good reason, and it's just going to stay that way. But before he went back to bed, Terence gave me a long hug and reminded me that none of what I feel is reality, and I'll feel better in a few days.

Thank goodness for husbands who can see clearly. Maybe if I remember what he said, I will be able to make it through my day!