Hormones and emotions

Today was a day with great emotions unleashed, that is, I cried 3 times. I think the last time I did something as dramatic as this was when I was in actual pain in hospital. I wasn't in pain today though, at least not the physical kind. It started in the morning when an old neighbour asked me (for the 3rd time) if I'm expecting a boy. I told her no, it was a girl, and she had the audacity to console me, saying it was all fate, that I could try again! I mustered up all graciousness in me to tell her thank you, but both hubby and I prefer daughters and that daughters tend to be closer to their parents when they grow up. She looked at me with great pity and said (I can't believe this woman), well, its all fated, I'm still young, I can still try for a son!!! Is this woman for real??!! This time, given we were botht trapped for a while in the lift, I became rather unchristian. I told her that sons won't care so much about their parents the way daughters would and most would take a daughter anytime. Daughters won't dump their children on their parents the whole week and turn up only for visits. (Which is exactly the plight of this grandmother who looks after her grandson all day, all night, all weekday, all weekend). I wasn't proud of myself, but the grace took a backseat to vindictiveness. Of course, i went home to cry. Not only because of her callous words, but also the callousness of every single aunty I've encountered from the lift to the supermarket who all give me looks of pity and words of consolation when I tell them I'm expecting a baby girl, AND I've got an older girl. What is wrong with these women?? Old men are not like that. If women discriminate against their own kind, what hope do we have in the world?

The 2nd instance happened when my preschooler came home from school and for reasons only known to the 3 year old set, started ranting and raving at me and even holding up a pebble and aiming it at me. I don't even know or remember what caused the fury,except that she was on the war path. My usual reaction would be to calmly tell her the behaviour was unacceptable and she would stay in the corner till she was prepared to apologise for that bit of nonsense. Well, I did put her in the corner, but I also burst into tears, heartbroken that she behaved in such a fashion. She was shocked and I think a little frightened, which caused an outpouring of apology and genuine contriteness, and of course, a scurrying around for tissues and whatever was needed to make mummy less sad. In the end my little one decided that the best course of action was to climb into my lap and cry with me. After which we both felt much better!

Finally, at night, a call came that threw my plans out of whack. I was REALLY angry and due to the poor planning of this person, everyone else was inconvenienced. I did what my daughter did earlier on, I threw a tantrum. I hurled angry accusations at hubby for not handling the situation better and being firm. Of course, the angrier I got, the greater chance of those tears being unleashed again. Once again, angry tears sprouted as I growled, petulant and spoilt. Hubby, already weary and beyond exhausted asked me calmly if I would like him to call said person to scold her. Believe it or not, I actually said yes! So he called and calmly settled the matter ( at least for today, as said person can sing a different tune again tomorrow). There is a part of me that says, think, there is a solution, just logically think. However, the logic bit appears to be off duty today and the emotional part is handling the control tower. So intead of giving way to another crying bout, I've decided to unleash those runaway emotions in this entry. Typing helps me keep my cool. You can't reflect when you are awashed with emotion.

I guess this is probably due to the crazy pregnancy hormones. I've never had this while pregnant with Maeve, but I hear it is common in the 1st and 3rd trimester. I guess this season too is fleeting and will pass, hopefully sooner than later, before more people get to witness this other side of me that very few, if ever, see.