Monday, March 8, 2010

Just Call Me Hormonally Challenged

Saturday was a challenging day. Mason was on call this weekend and had to run off to fix the world. By the time he got home, I was busy getting ready for a birthday party we had to go to. As soon as I stepped out of the shower, I had a raging hunger with nothing in the house to eat. I sat down on the couch and sweetly mentioned to Mason that I was hungry. I'm not exactly sure what I was expecting him to do about that, but it clearly wasn't what he chose to do.

K: I'm hungry.
M: We're going to eat at 5.
K: No we aren't. The party doesn't start until 5:30, and you never eat right when you get there. Plus it's 3:30. That's two hours away, I'm hungry now. (At this point, I'm starting to get a little short with him).
M: Then eat some crackers. Eat an apple. Eat a banana.
K: Forget it. (Start to storm off)
M: Well, what do you want me to do about it? You want me to go get you something?
K: I want you to at least offer a better suggestion then "Eat an apple." Which wouldn't fill me up, not to mention we don't even have any of those things! (I am now crying as well as yelling because I can actually hear the words that are coming out of my mouth, I just can't stop them).
M: Are you trying to tell me to go to the grocery store? There are nicer ways to ask that.
K: Just forget it. (Storm off to finish getting ready an try to stop crying).

Mason then stormed off and out to the grocery store, and by the time I stopped crying he was home bringing groceries in. So I went out to apologize for my complete overreaction and explain that I just got frustrated that he didn't seem to understand that pregnancy hunger isn't like regular hunger. Regular hunger goes like this: Hmm, I'm getting hungry. What should I make for dinner? Pregnancy hunger goes like this: If I don't eat something RIGHT NOW I am going to DIE!

After that lovely example and further explaining that I was sorry but I couldn't help it, Mason then made the mistake of telling me I needed to "get that under control." I'm sorry, how does one go about getting their hormones under control? Telling them to "get that under control" is not the way. I was oh-so-close to yelling "You did this to me!" Lucky for him, the front door was open, and I did have a little remaining control. I will give him some points though, after I was finished getting ready he was heating some soup on the stove and if I couldn't wait for that, then there were doughnuts on the counter. And the soup was the perfect thing to fill me up without making me too full to eat at the party (I also bowled the best game of my entire life, but that's a different story).

Boy is he going to have fun when I go through menopause.

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