My emotions are off the charts. They are going to extremes in all directions.

Two nights ago during our normal bedtime routine T and I were brushing our teeth at our double sink vanity. He has a sink. I have a sink. Should be  no problem right? It has never bothered me before. We have been brushing our teeth side by side for years but something happened that night. Something snapped. I became annoyed and angry. Whatever he was doing, it was driving me nuts. While still brushing our respective teeth, I started glaring at him, giving him the “are you seriously cracking you jaw right now-you know that drives me nuts” look. He returned the glare with a “are you kidding me I did NOTHING wrong” stare. He spit, rinsed, spit again and said, “What?” I turned off my toothbrush (a recent thing for me-I love battery powered tooth brushes!) spit with resentment and anger and replied in all seriousness, “You. The way you were brushing your teeth, is pissing me off.” There was a split second of silence and he burst out laughing. After he caught his breath he stated in tone that matched my seriousness just minutes before, “This one has to be a girl. Boys don’t cause this much trouble!”

It took a few minutes, in fact it took a whole chapter of the latest Vincenzi novel I am reading for me to start giggling. The giggles turned to laughter. Laughter turned into snorts-which my husband says is cute and I love him for that. Seriously… I was so mad at him. Mad at him for brushing his teeth. He did nothing different than usual. He isn’t a messy teeth brusher. He isn’t noisy. My hormones took me for a ride and for some reason, T became the destination. He became the target.

My poor husband. He is so patient. As I type this though, I feel like- What the hell? Poor T?! I am the one with all day morning sickness that had me sitting on the toilet this early this morning holding a bucket. I am the one who will inevitably gain at least 20 pounds. I am the one who has to deal with all the symptoms directly. So really. Poor me! He can buck up and deal with a few mood swings… that is nothing compared to actually growing the baby in your belly! AND he gets to drink at all the Christmas parties.

Well… now I am angry and resentful again. A lot of good this blog post did me!

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