Grrrrrin and Bear it

It's been a difficult night. My hormone monster has reared it's wretched head and is causing all sorts of havoc in this peaceful home. In the middle of our discussion of our holiday party, I blew up like Mt. Vesuvius when Shane's definition of semi-formal was jeans and a nice shirt. I quickly developed two new personalities: Psycho and Crazy Killah. To add salt to wound, his reoccuring is really getting on my nerves. The fact that he can never recall our previous discussions has become a point of contention. I mean one day he likes George Michael and the next he's appalled by the mere mention of the man behind the Jitterbug. These ridiculous conversations develop into an exclusive explosion. He, like the true husband, ignores me by watching the basketball game. As my anger brews and manifests, he washes me out.

His definition of semi-formal churned in my head like cement setting in. I recalled our conversation weeks ago. It was his idea! It was him that thought it would be a great idea to give a reason for friends and family to dress up. Not mine. I know it sounds like a woman was behind the idea such as Lady Macbeth, but not me. My thoughts began to turn dark, "My god, he doesn't listen to me! Why am I here? This marriage sucks! He sucks! Marriage sucks. I can't believe it." I cried. I got angry. I wept. My anger steeped into furious. I sobbed. I pictured biting his head clear off, blood squirting from his neck. It was all the normal estrogen filled manic thoughts that was the prelude to a magma molten melt down.

Shellie's Proverb: A man that marries a woman that nags is a fool.

As he slept in bed, I went out for a drive trying to save Shane from my wrath. A walk would've been beneficial, but the chill was unfriendly. I had the music blaring as it always does me good. I attempted to put my hormones to rest. There was no reason to expose Shane to my madness. It was not fair to him. I knew I was being irrational. I was aware of my explosion. I just needed to be. Was I being utterly ridiculous? Have I gone past ridiculous? I just want to be heard. How could a symphony of anger be orchestrated by one absolute semi-formal note?

Gladly, there's always a new morning to envelope me into a new day. A clean slate. A fresh start. I held no grudges. The depression was still there, but I needed to let it go. Let it all go. My disagreement wasn't important. My happiness was important. My husband was important. I know you fellow preggers and naturally premenstrual females can't feel me on this one. It is difficult to practice self control. It's so easy to fly off the handle like a witch on a broom on Hollows eve, but I did it. As I know of legendary excuses due to pregnancy, I was not going to use my hormones as a cop out. I was not going to be that person, that screams and throws tantrums just to get their way. I am not a bitch. I mean, I am, but I choose my battles and this was not worth whetting my sword. The morning greeted me with a beautiful sunrise. In the sunrise, I discovered that there was room for forgiveness and understanding in my heart, because Shane is who he is and that is why I love him.

Lesson: A wise Grasshopper must understand that the art of battle is gauging conflict.