Getting a Grip

I like writing about the little things...little everyday things that make life interesting and fun and memorable. I love writing about giggles and butterflies and clouds and rainbows... but there is a darker side that I sometimes just cannot ignore.

This morning I have been a bear. A growly, snippy, not-much-fun-to-be-around bear. The tone of my voice and the reactions I have had to even the littlest thing have made me want to get away from myself. I can only imagine how the three men in my life have felt.

I know it's PMS. I'm 100% sure. But that is no excuse. I just have no way of explaining to my poor husband what it is like to feel this way. The only description I can think of is to be trapped behind bars screaming to get out and knowing that the people standing all around you can't hear your pleas. I KNOW I am behaving harshly and as soon as I yell at one of the boys or snap at my husband, that little voice inside (behind the bars) is screaming "I'm sorry! I know it's not your fault I can't fit into my jeans! I know you don't deserve this attitude! I'm really sorry!" But something won't let those kinder words surface.

I could also blame our crazy life right now. Some days it feels like I am trapped in the fast lane and no one will let me over. Life is passing by at an alarming rate and I keep passing the exits but am going too fast to get off. The laundry mounds, the milk rings on the coffee table solidify and my to-do list grows as fast as kudzu on a Mississippi telephone pole.

It's time for a change.

But the first thing I'm going to do when my men return from the breakfast I forced them to go to without me is hug each one of them and apologize for my behavior this morning. My faults are not their fault. I am going to make this a good day. We don't know how many of these we get in life...so why waste them giving in to insecurity and the whims of moodiness?

It's time for me to get a grip.