Hormones Suck


It was Friday and I spent four hours with 48 third graders at the maritime museum in our town. We built fans. We looked at phytoplankton and “shrimps” under the microscope.

We dissected squid.

Yes. We did.

Do you have any idea what that smells like?

I arrived home and drove immediately to the bank to sign on our financing and then ran up the road to pick the girls up from school.

My head pounded all day. Advil didn’t help. Soup didn’t help. Not even chocolate.

I was excited to curl up with the kids on the couch and watch the original Black Stallion. I lived for those movies when I was a kid and secretly loved the boy. Most girls I knew loved the horse, but I hated horses, have always been scared of them…but I loved the boy.

The guy I love now, I am so blessed.

Tonight, I told him two of my pet peeves. One being that when he cracks eggs, he puts the used shells back in the carton and then BACK in the fridge with the unused eggs still in the carton.


And then when I sliced my finger and he said, “Nice Going Wendy.”

He picked that up from my mom who told him I was clumsy like my Aunt Wendy. So he teases me.

Unfortunately, when hormones strike at this time of the month, being associated that way with Aunt Wendy is worse than usual.

And I  might add that Aunt Wendy is as sweet as all get out but not the brightest pin in the cushion.

In fact, she is not bright….AT ALL.

She thinks that bottled water is legitimate bottled water if she refills it from the tap.

So I let him know, “stop calling me Wendy” and I cried.

GAWD that sucks.

At any rate, he still fell asleep with me, letting me get all up against him even though the heat was on and it was sweaty and I was all emotional-girly-like. He managed to sleep through it, so I thought….in the morning I said, “you slept really well last night, didn’t you?”

And he goes, “Like hell I did!”

Apparently, my tossing and turning and clutching to him kept him up a bit.



They totally suck.

On a funny note, when I boldly asked him to “spoon me” that night in bed (yes, people, I did….I know, weak of me…) he goes, “What’s in it for me?”

And I answered, “You get a happy girlfriend.”

It was enough for him at that point.

8 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by maunderer on November 7, 2009 at 11:01 pm

    You make me laugh.


  2. Posted by omchelsea on November 8, 2009 at 2:27 am

    eggshells back in the carton? That is TOTALLY strange.


  3. Posted by Peter Varvel on November 8, 2009 at 6:53 pm

    My guy always laughs at me whenever I trip or stumble or accidentally hurt myself a little. Even though I try not to let it, I get a bit upset it – and that’s without any hormone surges (or is it?). 🙂
    He got really mad, once, when I backfired with “I don’t delight in the misfortune of others as much as you do.”


  4. I usually warn my girls when I’m hormonal. I’ll say, “Just so you know…Normally I think it’s funny when you tease me, but for the next couple of days, it will bother me…” And they try really hard not to give me a hard time.


  5. hello! Got your comment and I have put a note for you about a cake you may like to look at for your daughter. It is easy but has a good wow effect with 6/7 year old girls. Cheers.


  6. hormones are no fun, glad I don’t have any 🙂


  7. guilty of the egg thing, but trying to break that bad habit! The Black Stallion movie, I love horses and don’t even remember the boy LOL. If someone called me Wendy I would have to choke them. and the squid thing. gags me to even think about it. ewe


  8. OMG, I SOOOO get this.

    He’s a sweet guy, isn’t he? At least it seems that way MOST of the month!



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: