PMDD and Plans

I have PMDD. At least I have all the symptoms, according to a medical website. So it's not menopause, which is good. I'm too young for menopause anyway. PMDD is some kind of PMS on crack. Irritability, mood swings, depression, and other fun symptoms means that I'm a wreck. The best way to combat it? No caffeine, no alcohol and more exercise. Yeah right. I can't function without my bowl of coffee each morning. I don't drink a lot of alcohol now anyways since I'm still breastfeeding, so I don't see how taking away my one or two beers a week is going to help. And chasing after two kids isn't exercise enough? Mental note: ride your horse!

I'm sad that it's almost August. I had high hopes for this summer. I guess I can still dream, but most of my plans seem like pipe dreams now. I wanted a beach vacation, or a trip to someplace we've never been, but at this point, I'll settle for a camping trip. I just want to be away from home for about a week so I can face the coming winter here again. This past spring we were talking about moving, but things at Clint's work haven't panned out, so we're going to stay another year here. It was such a long, long winter here last year. This house is groaning at the seams, and Evie's condition and the uncooperative weather seemed to combine to test my mettle. A few times I thought it had beaten me, but I'll have to face it again this winter. I have a list of things to be done to combat it. I'm calling it my sanity list, because I need some kind of progress to feel like an entire season hasn't been wasted. Top of the list? New floors, livingroom furniture and a decent TV and French door for the gameroom. Not much, right? Not to mention upgrading the electric. I'm hoping to get the sanity list finished in August, since fall really is right around the corner.

Time Flies....

I've decided that life's messy. It's nothing like the baby product commercials, all placid and certainly not simple. I think it's finally sinking in that kids are always going to be a challenge. Just when they've struggled through one difficult phase, it's followed by an even more challenging one. Most days, I am able to accept that, and cope with my usual Irish aplomb. But some days I'm pulling my hair out (mostly it falls out on it's own!) So I decided that it's my blog, and if I can't be honest, I may as well not be writing. Besides, nobody is reading this anyway, not really. And I need to vent.

Today has been the culmination of hazards: frustration, disorganization and children.
I've been swimming uphill against a tide of dirty clothes and cluttered rooms, dirty dishes and cluttered thoughts, and I just looked up to find more of the same. I had to race to my daughter's school to switch the peanut butter & jelly sandwhich for a snack pack because I forgot there are kids there with nut allergies. I have a lunch date tomorrow that I'm almost dreading because I don't know what my 4 year old will behave like--a spoiled princess or a tyrannical T-Rex. I completely forgot my hair appointment last week and now my hair is a fuzzy mess--no thanks to the thousand degree weather and 1000% humidity. I feel like I'm wearing a steel wool wig. It's too hot to be outside unless you're swimming, but I don't know the first thing about the pool chemicals, and forget trying to inflate a 5ft blow up pool--it's got three rings! My 10 month old didn't get lunch until 2 pm today--she started screaming before I realized why--because I was too busy trying to catch up with everything else. She's now pulling the folded laundry from the basket....

But before I burst into tears wondering if I'm really this unhappy in life (okay, after I burst into tears), I remembered I forgot to take my B complex today. Because I think I'm perimenopausal. Actually I think I'm menoausal emotionally, which means I could either burst into tears or a rage if somebody looks at me wrong. Without the B vitamins, I've become a loose cannon. These days the dog never knows if he's going to get a pat on the head and a "poor Mr. Puppy Head," or a few choice words for tripping on my heels for his dinner. Is this what happens when your youth dries up?