Mama’s Salty

See that gif up there? That’s my face today. My permanent week long stank face.

So far today I’ve said things to my kids like–

“Why are you breathing so loud?”

“Can you go away?”

“Eat like a normal human.”

“Can you just…not?”

You see, I’m a woman…and Aunt Flo, that hag, showed up this week. So I’m salty. Extra extra salty. You know the people who put salt on bacon? I’m the salty bacon. Now add in being a mom to the being a salty woman part, and you have my current state.

I used to think that the “sorry I’m psycho this week” kind of PMS wasn’t really a thing? I always suffered with cramps so badly that I would scream in my bed and want to die, but the hormones weren’t something I remember as a teen or young lass…but as a woman in my 30s, good hell, are those hormones here and apparently here to stay.

Ya know, I planned on writing a different post today. People have been requesting I write more posts, and I had one planned, but due to the apparent salt-water bath I seem to be soaking in this week, I will hold off on that post.

Wanna know what’s not fair, though? When you get an IUD to stop your periods….and the IUD doesn’t stop your periods. I suppose I’m still in the waiting period, ha, “period”….anyway, I still have time until the “no more period” thing could happen, but I’m an impatient person, mmk?

I think once we decide we are done birthing children from our tired bodies, that we shouldn’t have to deal with periods anymore. Anyone agree? I feel like as women we already have enough emotion and hormones pumping through our bodies and hearts and minds….so I’m not sure why God decided we need MORE of those every month. I need to file a complaint.

Well, I normally would write a lot more, but my toddler is screaming because someone tried to take empty sandwich baggies away from her and it offended her soul. The endless laundry is calling my name yet again- begging to be done, it’s time to start dinner, and pick up kid #1 from art class…I have no bra on, I’m wearing my fat pants, and I NEED CHOCOLATE, but I also need to punch a wall and then cry…because…Aunt Flo.

The husband isn’t home from work this week until midnight each night, but seeing how sassy I am for the next few days, he’s lucky that he won’t be home until I’m in bed and my melatonin has kicked in and I’m successfully drooling with my mouth open and making sounds that no human should ever make…gee, thanks, sleep apnea. You’re a real peach. I’ve never been sexier in bed as I have been since you hijacked my life during my last pregnancy and decided to stay until I’m no longer chubby….

ANYWAYYYY– I just wanted to give a shout out to all the salty ladies out there. May the force also be with all of you warrior women as the infamous hag, Aunt Flo, the real Debra of Debra’s and the most Karen-y Karen there ever was, also barges into your life this month…You’re not alone.

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