I didn't blog much with my second pregnancy and I think I need to catch up a little. It's true, life is a little busier with a kid. I wasn't nearly as hormonal crazy with this pregnancy but nonetheless, I was crazy. There were some good times of crazy I can share to give a good laugh to those who need one.
I'm not sure about anyone else but I get uncomfortably overheated the instant I'm pregnant. A furnace starts up in my body and it's not pretty. While I sleep, I sweat and drool. The drool. Come on, really, drool for days. One night in my first trimester, Scott and I decided to watch a movie so we sat down on our usual couches. I'm on the little one and he's on the big one. I was in a tank top and shorts in January and he was in what would be normal winter attire. Suddenly, the furnace in my body turns on and my skin starts to heat up. On top of the 400 degrees, I'm nauseated. Scott was just laying there, innocent, enjoying the movie and oblivious to the sudden attack that was coming at him. I couldn't help but look at him sitting over there with his fleece sweats on and envy his normal body temperature. The more I looked at him, the angrier I got. Believe me, I tried to fight the hormonal rage but it was too much. "Will you please go change?" I asked him with disgust. He looked at me with confusion all over his face and asked why. "That's disgusting! Why are you wearing those sweats and that shirt?" It was crazy talk and I knew it. It was what I call the "prego black out rages". I can see myself saying and doing things but I can't stop. I starred at him and asked again. He looked at me and told me he was chilly and didn't want to change. I was pissed. "Please go change! I'm so annoyed!" Reluctantly, he paused the movie, gave me the "you're crazy look" and walked to his closet. While he was in the other room I walked over to his couch and took off his pillows and made myself comfortable. He came back in a t-shirt and shorts hoping for the best. Not only did I make him change into cooler clothing but I grabbed his couch leaving him with a two-cushion couch. Inside, I knew it was not the right thing to do but my hormones said, "Just do it, you deserve the big couch and for him to suffer with you". Hormones are rude SOB's. They never say sorry either. I always have to do the apologizing for them. He finished the movie, I fell asleep half way through and I knew that he knew this was just the beginning of irrational behavior from his pregnant wife. He could've said no, he could've fought me on it but we both know after prego anger comes prego tears and after prego tears comes more tears. It's never a win for anyone involved.
"Every woman is crazy. It's just what degree of crazy can you handle?" --Krista