Pretty Please, With. . . .

Ah hell, who am I kidding, hold the damn sugar on top.

Who the hell says that anyway??!!

You wanna know what's worse than a stressed out woman? A stressed out, PMSing woman. WOW, is all I can say.

Let me try to give you a few examples here:

My in-laws have been fantastic about our lack of car problem. Steve (my father-in-law) spent a good part of today running me around from errand to errand, yet I still had an extremely hard time thanking him. For some reason, in my head I thought I was entitled to his generosity. (We tend to do a lot for them as well) As it is, I'm sure the "thank you" I did give him came out as a half ass attempt at gratitude, but darn it (Trying to watch my language here) that's all I was capable of giving at the time. Do I feel guilty? Nope, not really.

I think my kids are starting to wonder where in the world their real mommy went. The stuff I used to find cute, (Bumpo taking forever to spit out a sentence, Bob's way of trying to make all the rules in the house) are now driving me insane.

Lets not forget Tim. My poor husband has had to deal with these raging hormones for the last few days and he'll never know just how grateful I really am, because like stated above, I suck in that department right now. I've chewed that man out on more than one occasion during the past few days. And for the most part, he's taken it. Although, yesterday I believe I may have stepped over the line, just a tad. Good thing I know the way to his wonderful heart. He can rest assured I will be making up for these last few horrible days.

Where in the hell, has my sweet demeanor gone? I am no longer walking on my normal set egg shells, in fact I think I made it a point to stomp on every one of the fuckers. (whoops, so much for the language patrol)

It's funny, I always used to get so mad at women for using their hormones as an excuse to be a bitch. "You can control your hormones" is what I always used to think. (and quite frankly, I still feel that most women still use the excuse a little too often) But let me tell you something, karma is a mean little whore.

It's been a long time since I've had to deal with the wonderful effects of PMS and I think it's safe to say (a least it's safe for me to say, if anyone else says this, I'm likely to rip their freakin' head off) I'm not handling it very well.

At first, I thought this was the "Holy Cow, will this summer ever end" annoyance that every parent goes through. But the truth is, I don't want the summer to end. I'm not walking the "Back to School" aisles at my local Target with that look of total bliss yet. In fact, I tried it the other day to see how it fit, and. . . Well, not so much. I'm not looking forward to the school bell this year. At least not yet. Despite my recent run of bad luck, the time I've logged with the boys this summer has been extremely enjoyable, I'm not ready for that to end just yet.

Although, if these hormones keep going the way they are right now, next week I might be whistling a different tune. . .