Man, I have those brain tumors ALL THE TIME. Like, nearly every month.

Might want to skip the dog hair snack though; I doubt that will help.

I understand the total-and-utter-frickin-foul-mood-I-hate-everything.

Two things help me. A really good run, or a really funny movie. neither one gets my house clean, but i feel better with exercise or laughter endorphins streaming through my system…hang in there !!!

The only thing, and I mean ONLY thing, that helps me is my Wednesday night ladies night (is it Wednesday? Yay!).

A couple of years ago, I started a group of just moms. We get together once a week, baby-free, and de-stress.

It’s not a permanent fix, but it’s at least a way to vent and bitch and complain without anyone asking if we’re PMSing again. Because NO, ASSHOLE, I’M NOT.

…dick…

Ahem…TGIW.

If it helps, I was just looking at those cute Halloween pictures and thought ‘her hair looks so cute long like that!’
These things ebb and flow, life just has to suck sometimes, right?
But still, sorry it’s been so tough lately. Go do some alone time thrift shopping ASAP!

Sister, I am right there with you. Hang in there.

And you know you want to drop kick the first assface who says ‘gee, is it that time of the month again?’

Ok, I’ve probably missed the entire point of this point, but I have to say something about the houseguests. I *think* you’re referring to your in-laws, and I think it’s incredibly admiring for you to have a rule re: not shit-talking about them on your blog. I sometimes see little comments sneak out here and there, and I have to tell you: houseguests in general suck balls. In-laws ESPECIALLY. I have a set that are a major pain in the ass and I sometimes find myself thinking back to old posts of yours as I try to keep my trap shut while dealing with mine.

Case in point:

1-A while back you mentioned that they put forks in the dishwasher prongs UP. Well, mine wouldn’t even go near my dishwasher, but everytime my M-I-L walks into my kitchen and says something snarky, I think of the forks. (Being thrust into her eyes.)

2-The therapy comment about Dylan was appalling. I’ve been told that a meal I made tasted disgusting, my organizational skills are bad, I don’t know how to throw a garage sale, making guests wash their hands before holding my 7 day old daughter was rude, and would I mind going to bed early so that she could have some friends of hers visit for a girls night in MY living room. Sans me.

Now, granted, those comments might not be too bad, but it was a 3 day visit. That’s a lot of lip for a little bit of time.

They arrive in Jersey for their next visit on November 19th. I just can’t fucking wait! I told her that the 19th is a tough day for me because it’s the 2nd anniversary of my mom’s death, to which I was told, “It’s our wedding anniversay and after a long day of traveling, we wouldn’t mind if you could make dinner for us.”

Here we fuckin go!

Dana, I am not laughing at your situation by any means, but the way you described it sent Diet Coke shooting out of my nose.

Dana. Forks thrust in her eyes, OMG I spat coffee all over my desk from the visual..LOL….

As for the dinner for their anniversary, when you have already explained the 19th is tough for you, I’d tell them to shove it.

I am sorry for the loss of your mother. I can’t even imagine. my thoughts and pryaers are with you ((hugs)).

“I would cut a bitch for a bag of chocolate-covered potato chips.”

Let’s figure out how to make these, produce them and sell them when we’re in NOLA in February.

I’m noticing my days like this are much more intense since the introdution of the Mirena. Like pre-Mirena, I was bitchy, but not homicidal.

Ugh- I so feel you. Why can’t JB go with you to New Orleans?

Sometimes I wish us adults had permission to express our emotions the way our irrational toddlers do- crying, ranting, screaming, etc. Instead, we carry our frustrations, disappointments and stress around, letting it all fester and bubble beneath the surface. It gets old fast, dude.

“I would cut a bitch for a bag of chocolate covered potato chips.”

Rocky Mountain chocolate Factory sells these, and they’re pretty good! Though, I am sorry to report, they do nothing to satisfy that unrelenting craving for something sweet and salty, being shoved in your mouth by both fists.

My FMIL visited us last month–among my too two favorite comments were: “Who the hell puts zucchini in spaghetti sauce? Who the hell is she trying to impress?” (I just really like zucchini! It goes in my chili too!) And “I’d rather my son was with [his first wife] but I suppose you’re fine enough.” Um, thanks?

I usually succumb to a day of sitting on the couch in sweats, feeling lousy and half doubled over, but after that, I go down to my gym and shoot a basketball. I have no talent, but the energy of having a quantifiable physical goal really helps. (Get the ball in the damn hoop!) Plus, the echo of the ball on the floor does wonders for my wildly careening irritability.

I am so relieved that I’m not the only one! My exact words to my husband last night were “I no longer have the coping skills to deal with our life.” Right before I sat on the floor & cried. Please stop bogarting the chocolate covered chips woman… :)

Heather (onedayonefoot)–please tell me that SOMEONE said something to her when she made that dicky comment about your husband’s ex??

I swear, if my M-I-L even so much as mentioned my husband’s ex-girlfriends names with a SMILE on her face in my house, my foot would be so far up her ass. AND, if my husband didn’t say something to her, as well, you can guess where my other foot would be.

That’s bad!

Wendy-thanks for the kind words about my mom. V. sweet!

I honestly went through the exact same thought process last night. I was exhausted and pissy and starving and achey all over and it wasn’t until I actually awknowledged the cramps I’d been ignoring all day, that I put it together.
When I finally figured it out, I put myself to bed at 8:30. Fun, fun, fun.

Heather @ 12:10, have you read this blog? http://devilsdaughterinlaw.blogspot.com/ Your MIL sounds as bad as hers.

And thanks a lot, Linda for making me realize that I’ve been having my period for 21 years. Now I feel old.

Ha! Right before reading this, I was wondering why on EARTH I am sooooo tired today when I got plenty of sleep and why I am sooo CRANKY at nothing whatsoever. Then I looked at my calendar. DURRRR. Gets me every time!

I too, was pissed about having crap hair and not being able to afford $60 a pop for my stylist. So I chucked it in and visited Floyd’s Barbershop. For less than half of what I was paying, I got the best haircut I’ve had in a while.

When chocolate covered potato chips can’t be found, the next best thing is saltine crackers and a can of frosting (preferably rainbow chip). After that I MIGHT settle for Ritz crackers and marshmallow fluff.

Yesterday morning I was in a mood and B was very kind about it – “I know something’s bothering you, please talk to me” – “I DON’T FUCKING KNOW WHAT’S BOTHERING ME BUT RIGHT NOW IT’S YOU” – That? should have been my clue.

You know? I think it’s criminal that women should suffer through PMS/menstruation AND toddlers at the same time. Because that’s grounds for divorce from the universe right there. Your last post brought up all kinds of bad memories of THOSE DAYS and all I can say is: it won’t always be like that. They still suck when they’re older but you can actually have a shouting match in English and be happy when they stomp off to their own room in a pout because – SCORE! – the house is quiet. Do I care about their feelings? No, I care that you’ve shut the hell up and left me alone for 20 minutes. And if I hear one more word about how every child on the planet has a DS and you don’t…..
:) It’s still better than toddlers. Any. Day. Of. The. Week.

Annnd so I feel your pain or whatever… I am in the same mood. Suckage.

Also, it is like the realization of what is causing this, er, behavior is NEW every freaking month and yet every month it is the same thing – rather rinse repeat.

This may be what is feels like to get old.

Right. There. With. Ya’. Change a few personal details, and this could have come out of my mouth today.
Excuse me while I go treat my brain tumor with a Chinese buffet followed closely by a raid on my son’s Halloween candy.

You’re pregnant, right?

Haaaa.

have you tried these? i’m just sayin.
http://www.foodshouldtastegood.com/#/chocolate/

Watch Modern family tonight! It’ll do you good.

Aw, man, you’re singing my tune. EVERY. TIME. It happens to me every. time. One day, I’m sitting there angrily adding up all the things in the world that are just fucking BULLSHIT, just BULLSHIT and then I add up some dates on my fingers and … oh, right. Huh.

Yes, to all of that.

Brain tumor

OR

TWO 6-8 pound parasites were removed from your body forcibly and with SCALPELS in the last four years and you’re still recovering from the trauma.

Yeah. PTSD.

Go with that.

If only I could be so articulate in explaining to my hubby why I get in my ‘moods’. The answer – D. All of the above.

I can help with the fruit flies. A couple tablespoons of apple cider vinegar and a dollup of dish soap in a little bowl. You’ll be shocked at how many fruit flies meet their death :) That satisfaction (and amazement) should bring about a smile.

Um, it seems small, but I can help with the fruit flies. Put 1/2 c. water in a bowl, add a splash of apple cider vinegar and a bit of dishsoap. Stir with finger and wait for those suckers to fall to their death.

yeah, I was always caught by the rage/cry surprise as well until this past year when I finally set “this” up on my calendar so every month I receive an email reminder to buy a bag of salt-n-vinegar chips and some brownie bites.

God, amazing how it sneaks up on me every damn month – every month, I wonder if I’m losing my mind, if my life is the hardest little life, if my husband really IS the most aggravating person in the entire world. And then, the truth becomes apparent: it *is* PMS, and if you keep looking at me like that you will be in a world of hurt.

…what? That’s a normal response, I swear.

Add in “bursts into tears at random over small minor inconveniences or commercials” and you’ve got me pegged.

Yeah…definitely a brain tumor. Luckily, I had my brain removed 3 years ago. Not one regret over it, either. No more tumors…no more hats…Ah, relief.

Of course, I had a medical reason for it – but I also WANTED it.

Anyway. You can have all my chocolate…I still love it, but don’t NEED it. I’ll send it your way ;)

HOLY CRAP! I THINK I HAVE A BRAIN TUMOR TOO!

Mmmm, chocolate-covered potato chips.

Ahem: I know what you people need.

http://allrecipes.com/recipe/pretzel-turtles/detail.aspx

DO IT

Every single month I do this.

Are you getting enough rest? Not to be an ass but other than the brain tumor, period, or alien taking over your body ideas…Girl – maybe you’re just plain exhausted. Vistors, children, work and husbands can be super-time consuming…plus zombie walks and trying to train for marathons. If you can swing it, take a day off (while kids are at daycare) just to give yourself a break. Do something for you or just sleep in. :)

Honestly, it sounds like you need a nap and a relaxing weekend. You just sound stressed out and like you haven’t had a break. Hm, could be Halloween + house guests?

Shit, if yours is a brain tumor, than mine is the MOTHER OF ALL BRAIN TUMORS.

I’ve ALWAYS had bad hair, I never could style it worth a damn. So…I’m letting it grow out (it’s about mid-back now) and I cut my own bangs so there you go. Uber-cheap! Dana, I’m sorry you had such a shitty comment about the anniversary of your mom’s death. If they want to celebrate their anniversary they can get a hotel room and the FIL can buy them dinner, proper-like.

Dana:

She convienently waited until my fiance and his father had stepped out to run to the store. I think my mouth was still hanging open when they got back.

At that moment, I dumped all of dinner in the sink and went to a movie. The ex is a sore spot, I won’t lie. She, a few hours earlier had said family wasn’t important to me because I refused to go with her to the ex’s house for a family visit.

wtfever.

“I would cut a bitch for a bag of chocolate-covered potato chips” – OMG – I love you and the witty, hit the nail on the head imagery you rode in on.

There, there. Here, take a bag of Cheetos and some of these Ghiradelli dark chocolate caramel squares. Mind if I join you? Brain tumors are haaaard, man.

Sounds like you need girls night out *hint*

Finding comfort in this post and knowing that I’m not the only one who can’t afford a damn haircut right now. I suppose I’ll have to look like a pyramid for a little while longer. Dammit.

Re, fruit flies: pour some apple cider vinegar in a ramekin or small bowl, cover with saran/cling wrap & secure taut with a rubber band. poke 4-5 holes in the plastic, and voila, instant fruit fly trap!

Twenty bucks says the fruit flies are from Maine.