Moody Blues...

It's official, my natural high is gone thanks to hormonal girly bullshit, aka my period.

It was nice while it lasted though. I dunno, this cycle, PMS included, has been rough. I've been tired, back aching, bitchy (I mean REALLY bitchy), etc. But I've also been feeling really depressed and repressed about stuff that ordinarily wouldn't bother me. It's a weird feeling. For example, I'm not a materialistic person. I'm used to going without if for no other reason so my children can have what they need and want. But for some odd reason I've been wanting things and that's unlike me. Perhaps I've neglected my own desires too long. Perhaps it's hormones. Most likely the latter.

I am the type that cares more about my internal presentation vice my outward. I work on my character and mental and physical health rather than other bullshit. (Though I'm failing in that whole healthy eating dept but that's another story for another day.) I've never been the type to give a damn about name brands, or how my house is presented, the types of furniture I had or clothes I wore. I'm not a shoe person, a purse person or any of that. My hair and outward appearance are of (very) little importance to me. A simple ponytail will do and jeans and a tshirt or sweater are fine thankyouverymuch. The only time I really cared what I looked like and felt I had a definite choice in how I chose to present myself was when I was pregnant with Trinity. Because that time I was comfortable financially and I was able to find great outfits really cheap that flattered my growing belly. I felt the need to show how I happy I was about my pregnancy despite not having (or needing) a husband and the extra income he would've provided. I wanted to throw off that pitiful pregnant damsel in distress persona everyone kept trying to saddle me with and show how I really felt like a normal happy pregnant woman.

Right now, pffft. I have this horrible attitude of "I don't need to show no one SHIT", bad grammar included. Now I feel lousy because of my weight and appearance and although I'm still every bit the proud single supermom, I really don't give a shit who knows it, I don't feel the need to show it. I just do what I do and keep rolling really. And I shouldn't be that way. I come off more hardass than I need to and truthfully more hardass than I probably am anyway. If you want to be all psychological about it you could probably say that I'm only reacting this way to hide my feelings of ineffectiveness, unhappiness, low self esteem and extreme distaste for my physical state of being, blah blah fuckity blah.

What. The. Fuck. EVER.

I'm in a funk. I don't like it but there it is. For some reason unbeknownst to me I actually lamented that I don't own more than two pair of jeans that fit, that I don't have "nice" un-mommylike clothing, that my living room furniture belongs on a street corner rather than in a living room and that for once I'd like everything to be "put together" in a total package and look nice for a change. I realize that this type of thinking isn't bad; nothing wrong with it whatsoever. It's the feeling of hopelessness that follows these thoughts that bothers me.

Let me explain: When I think of wanting a new living room suite or just a total home makeover, the actual wanting of it is fine. But the afterthoughts are that I'll never have that as long as I have kids because either they'll destroy it or I will become one of those moms I DETEST that scream at kids constantly for touching, sitting, eating on, etc their "nice" furniture. The last thing I ever want to do is treat my home like a museum. Like it's for show only. That's no way for kids to live. Now there's nothing wrong with either of those thoughts, but because of these bloody hormones I feel blue about not having what I want and focus on my inabilities (can't afford it anyway and even if I could my choices would be limited to a wipe-me-down leather which is ugly ugly ugly.)instead of realizing the reality of my situation (I could find something nice, secondhand that's not too ugly with kid-friendly fabric or slipcovers.).

I've even been feeling all girly like I *gasp!* want a man. Me. A man wanter. Jesus God help me now in my hour of need. The fuck is this all about? Actually I've been watching tv, watching all my dork approved TLC/Discovery channel shows about families, births and organization (seriously, the only reason I watch the Style channel is for Clean House and when did they replace Neicy Nash with that other wanna be chick? Oh I was heated when I saw that shit.). And watching all those reality, birthing, baby, and family shows has made me want a real live nuclear family of my own. Husband/mate included. Pregnancy amnesia is setting in (the point where you forget all the rotten morning sickness, nausea, swollen ankles, crying, etc of previous pregnancies) and I realize how much I want to extend my little two member tribe. I've been secretly envious of those two parent households I see on tv that are all happy and shit despite the odds. I admit it, I'm jealous of the supportive partner the women have. Because I don't have it and I don't feel I'll get it any time soon either. Again, another topic for another day.

This post is long enough as it is without me whining about man-envy and babylust.

Besides, hopefully by the time of my next post all these ill-fated feelings will have past.

I hope.