Well, hello again, faithful readers. (My joke. I don't have any readers yet. ha ha). I have seen the other side of crazy and survived.
Four days after my big meltdown, Aunt Flo came into town for a visit. Now Hubby is chalking up the "Nervous Breakdown" to PMS. Maybe it was an extreme case. I don't know. Everyone around me seems able to predict what I'm going through or what I'm going to do, while I don't even know myself.
This is true. I don't know how many times I've told a story about something that happened to me, or something I've done, to Hubby or friends, and been told they suspected that would happen, they could have told me that, or they "just knew" I was going to do that. Myself? I don't have a clue. I consistently surprise myself.
I do know that I need a break. It's not that I'm under any extreme stress, it's just the day to day things. Hubby does his best to help around the house, though inconsistently. His line of work has erratic hours. I can expect him home anywhere from 5-8 p.m. That leaves me home with the kids who fight, wreak havoc, constantly disprespect me, backtalk and unless they are having a sweet moment, are generally unpleasant to be around.
I love my kids, but I find I don't always like them. My mother has a plaque on her wall that reads, "Raising children is like being pecked to death by chickens". I have to say I agree. I feel pecked at all day long. Mix that with cabin fever and spring fever, and you have a recipe for meltdown.
So, if there's anyone out there concerned for my wellbeing, afraid they might find I've been locked in a padded cell and wearing a straightjacket -- I'm fine. I'm looking forward to getting out this weekend with a friend of mine, and making plans to visit with some high school friends the next weekend, if possible.
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