Am I PMSing or just flat out crazy.

Ok, this morning, Phillip's alarms went off 5 times. I am a very touchy person. Not only are they alarms going off all the way from 3:00AM to 4:00AM, but one rings to the tune of "head and shoulders knees and toes" (the better of the two) and the other...let's just say I would rather hear a fog horn go off! We talked before and he said he would only set three and only use the more pleasant of the two. This didn't happen. So, when he went to kiss be good-bye, for the first time, I didn't feel nearly as guilty as I had before for my horrendous, fire breathing morning breath.

The day went on, and Liam (thanks to daylight savings) get's up at 7:00. Something I am not used to. Usually it's around 9:30ish. So I roll out of bed and go in to him laughing upon seeing me. No going back to sleep for him. So we get up, potty (no more floor mess thanks to the new potty!) and start breakfast. My sister is getting married so I started to cut down drastically on my carb intake to fit into the dress I bought WAY too soon after I had Liam thinking the weight would just fall off. HAHA! what a joke. So we eat, and then I see it's only 7:30. What am I gonna do all day. I vacuume, then sweep, then mop. Then see it's still before 9. So I dust and pick up the living room. It's only 10 now. I call my mother-in-law who I know helps pass the time, and she doesn't answer. So we play with his toys, he flips through some of his books. I check my email. Phillip wrote me. How sweet, he wishes me a wonderful day and says he can't wait to come home. What a doll. Finally I decide Liam is ready for a nap, I lay him down and no fuss, he grabs his bunny and closes his eyes. I lay down and just as I am dozing, the phone rings, it's the mother-in-law. I can't fall back asleep, so I get up and call her back. The waste some more time doing random things.

Liam wakes and we eat lunch. His new thing is going over to the high chair like he is going to climb in it and frantically signing "eat" with his mouth wide open. So we eat lunch. He does, I eat a couple hard boiled eggs (great snack by the way, good to have on hand, and it's practically guilt free for most diets). I then decide to do a workout video "Core Rythms" It's a latin dance, very upbeat with girls way too skinny, and from the 90s, who speak with a heavy accent while jumping and doing random cardio. I sweat more than I ever have. Phillip said he was going to come home and we would go for a walk. He calls and says "I have work to do, and we can't go." This blew my gasket. I don't know why. I was really looking forward to it, and then it was not only are we not going to do it, but the first day he has the evening off, he works. Yuck. So anywho, we tiff a little, then he gets home. He goes to the bedroom to put his stuff down and I follow him. From the closet as we are about to kiss "hello" we hear a thud and a scream coming from the kitchen. We run out and Liam is red faced and yelling, on the floor. Previously, he was in his highchair. I had taken the straps off because of potty training for easy out of chair onto potty maneuvering (nothing more gross than poop or pee in a chair made for sitting while eating). So that just blows up. I felt completely incompetent as a mother. What the hell was I thinking? I knew this would happen. Liam calmed down and we noticed a strawberry on his head. He's fine, just to reassure anyone, and the straps are back on the chair.

So we fight, Phillip's comments seem less than consoling to either of us. I admitted it was my fault and I can't let it happen again. I feel like I am talking with my parent. "I'm a problem solver, what can we do to ensure this doesn't happen again?" Phillip asks, with what I call his "angry eyes". This sends me further off the edge. First off, he hasn't even been home hardly (especially while Liam was up) for the past 6 weeks. YOu don't do any problem solving around here. BOLOGNA!! So, we yell a little and the I decide to take Liam on the much awaited walk. We get home, and nothing is different. Phillip still working, scowling, and me pissed off still. So it's silent and I say, when you are ready to talk about this, I am, but if you are not ready, it's ok, I can wait. "OK fine, let's talk" (says while I can tell he's rolling his eyes even though I'm not looking at him). Never mind, it's pointless. A few more comments that make me feel even more of a crappy mom, then I decide to make dinner. Liam poops on the floor in the process and then it's "are you sure we are not starting too young?" Seriously, what does he know, he hasn't been here to see the progress, and who in their right mind thinks potty training at any age is going to be mess free. So anyway, we get past that and then dinner, Yummy, eggplant Parmesan lasagna. Wonderful. We eat, fight a little more, and then once we take our first bites, "Oh, my God, this is delicious" The fights done, and we are good.

Liam does NOT care for his straps (or eggplant) and just wants down. After three slices of turkey, he is "all done" as he signs and won't eat any more. So fine, we finish I clean the kitchen and the we talk like we are two adults. The night ends up with us cuddling on the couch watching The Biggest Loser as Liam goes to bed with no fuss. It feels like night and day. I honestly don't see the point in being mad or "acting" mad I should say, so I don't. I ask Phillip, "do you think I'm crazy" "no". "Do you think I'm emotional?" "no". "be honest" "Yes, you are very emotional." With that we laugh and kiss, we still love each other and sadly at this point know what to say, how to say it, and when to say it to piss the other off and to make good again.

Crazy, maybe. PMS? More likely. Reality? Yes, definitely.