I wish I had something thought-provoking or even funny to write about this week, but all I can do is reflect on how &*#% hormonal I've been for the past few days. It's not fun for me, and it's not fun for Steve, and I'm sure it's not much fun for Daniel, either. Even though I try not to let it show when I'm taking care of him, I'm aware of being just a little quicker with the sharp tone of voice if he won't go down for his nap (for example), if he insists on pulling on the beads on the lampshade or pulling all my bottles of foot cream out of the nightstand drawer. As for Steve, well ... I don't like to play out the inner workings of our relationship on this blog, out of respect for him, but let's just say it hasn't been a stellar week for us. He mistakes my moodiness for anger at him, and maybe some of that isn't imagined. I'm holding on to resentments that probably aren't that big but feel big in the heat of it. Little things irritate me. Even if they have nothing to do with him, I end up taking it out on him in, and he's confused, walking on eggshells. I don't know what to do.
Yesterday was awful. I was crying about everything. I had an appointment with a physical therapist, and I'm sure she and her staff wrote me off as a complete basket case. I cried when I had to sign a form saying I'd pay for my treatment even if my insurance didn't cover it. I cried when I tried to make a quick call to the insurance company to double-check on my benefits because they are so ridiculously unhelpful. I cried when filling out the paperwork made me late for my appointment and the therapist told me I'd have to have an "abbreviated" visit because she had another appointment in 20 minutes, as if they think I have nothing better to do with my time than arrange for childcare and drive 20 minutes each way to Maplewood. I cried when the babysitter called in the middle of the appointment and told me Daniel was inconsolable, and I could hear his cries in the background and over the phone when she put him on for me to talk to him. I cried after I got off the phone and the physical therapist said, "Well, you have to take care of yourself, too," as if I had no excuse for being upset about my upset son. I cried when I learned I'd have to come back next week because it meant deciding yet again what to do with Daniel. I cried as I drove back to the babysitter's house because the whole thing had been so stressful, and I don't need this stress. It's not good for me, and it's not good for my immune system. (On the bright side, Daniel did cheer up and was in a pretty good mood when I got back to the babysitter's house. Thanks again, Jennifer.)
Then last night we added up all our expenditures for the month and found we'd gone over budget in almost every category. $150 over budget for groceries, and I thought I'd worked pretty hard trying to stay within our $400 goal. And in drawing up our budget, did we not even think about how we would pay for classes for Daniel, like ECFE and Music Together, which we are taking again this winter? We didn't even factor those in. Surely we are not that strapped for cash — Steve did get a big raise, after all — yet looking at the balance sheet last night made me feel that way. I came away feeling so pissed off and glum, and it sent me into another tailspin, and when Steve went to the gym like he always does on Thursday nights, I wasn't in the mood to try to get Daniel to bed — he fights it so much, and I just didn't have the energy — so we just sat up and watched the new Eli Stone show (but not Lost, which I may try to get on DVD and catch up from the beginning). So Daniel didn't get to sleep until 10:30, and then he was up again at midnight screaming about something he couldn't articulate, and he ended up spending the rest of the night sleeping between us, which he's done for the past week or two, which is fine with me and probably warmer for him.
If it weren't for the fact that I'm pregnant and that these emotional ups and downs (mostly downs) are supposed to be par for the course, and that it's the dead of winter to boot, I'd consider the possibility that some counseling might be in order. God, I hope I start to feel better soon. On the plus side, I've actually been more at peace with the cold weather this week. Even Wednesday, when we left the house on a 13-below morning, I felt OK. It was cold, but it was sunny, and the sky was blue, and that did wonders for my spirit. Just a little sunshine ...