Sausage Links & A Mu Mu

Sometimes I think it would just be better if there was a place I could go when I am PMSing.  A place where the accepted wardrobe is a mu mu.  A place where both sweet and salty snacks were at the ready.   A place without judgement, a place without husbands and children.  Don't get me wrong, I'm merely thinking of them.  This last bout was particularly rough and I am not meant to parent in an appropriate fashion while bloated up like Elvis in his last days but with the demeanor of Attila the Hun.

Patience is limited in my world at the best of times but throw some raging hormones into the mix and it gets downright ugly.  My son fell asleep on the couch the other night.  My husband took him to bed and then when I went to say good night to him he was awake and adamant that he brush his teeth.  Instead of being pleased with his desire to practise good personal hygiene despite utter exhaustion, I practically threw a tantrum.  I just wanted him to go to sleep.  So finally I barked: "Fine, go brush your teeth!"  in a manner one might tell their child to have another cookie or stay up an extra 15 minutes.

Did I mention I become entirely irrational as well?

And this time around I was treated to a level of bloating previously unmatched.  Even my stretchy pants were uncomfortable.  Granted they were my 'dressy' stretch pants and not my actual sweat pants but good Lord.  It was too much.  I literally could have passed as a good five months pregnant yesterday.  So off I went to parent teacher interviews in elastic waisted pants and a sweatshirt.  Thank God my children are good students and so, I hope, I can get away with a little more.  Jeans or any pants that had an actual button and fly were out of the question.  Not unless I wanted to be in pain the entire time and resemble link sausage.

Joy of joy though, I found peanut butter cups in my van two mornings ago.  I snuck them into the house with my three year old seeing and squirreled them away into a cupboard and snacked on them through the day.  The same evening I ate a Snickers bar and half a KitKat.  Yesterday I had a Skor latte and four Fudgee-Os.

I will not be weighing myself until sometime in the middle of next week and hopefully a good bout of the stomach flu.

Every month brings something different.  Mother Nature is sweet in that way.  Never wanting us, or me anyway, to get bored or be prepared for the onslaught of physical and emotional discomforts coming our way for a good week of every month.  I know my family appreciates it as well. 

For now though, it's off to the showers I go and then hopefully, fingers crossed, into a pair of honest to goodness pants.  Is there enough stretch?  We shall see.

Pollyanna Can Take her Banana and Shove It

Hmmmm.  So one good thing about today is I found yet another pair of elastic waisted pants that I forgot I had.  This means I am quite close to having a pair for every day of the week!  And not that I am opposed to wearing my plain old sweat pants for several days in a row but I have pants that I feel I can leave the house in without it looking like a shit myself.  Bonus!

This is even better right now as I've been bloated for approximately three days straight.  Nothing makes a gal feel sexier.

Stacey and Clinton would have a hey day with me.  They like to dress "Moms on the Go" in cute jeans, jackets, accessories, and heels.  That's not errand running dress for me.  That's a night out.  I kind of hate jeans.  Probably because I'm an 'apple'.

I fucking hate those fruit comparisons and the whole hourglass thing.  Probably because I'm a fruit and not an hourglass.  When Stacey and Clinton can find me a pair of jeans that don't make me feel like I'm physically being cut in half or resemble a sausage/muffin topped nightmare, then I'll frolic in said jeans.  Which again, apple?  Who the fuck decided that.  Or pear?  Maybe they thought it was flattering.  Maybe they had a penis.  Wait, I'm almost sure whoever came up with those definitions was a man.

I'm pretty cranky.   Surprised?  I know.  It's so atypical of me.

This post has now officially taken me two days to write.  Welcome to Day Two.  I'm even more bloated than I was yesterday and am starving.  Despite having eating three solid meals today and one snack.  STARVING.  Why isn't there any candy in this house?  Or fucking cookies?  I'll tell you why.  The children.  I bought cookies yesterday and they are GONE.  Yes, I had two for breakfast and roughly six last night but I WANT MORE.  RIGHT NOW.

Or some candy.  Chewy sweet sugary candy.  And chocolate.  Like a Snickers bar or maybe a Skor or some fucking.  peanut.  butter.  cups.

What do I have?  Should I focus on that?  I know there's at least one Pollyanna out there who's read in SHAPE or SELF or something equally inane that to satisfy a craving for something sweet, I should eat a banana.   I have a few other ideas for what you can do with that banana.  All I've got are oranges, apples and granola bars.   And popcorn.  But right now I am not interested in salt.  Or crunch.  Just a cheap sugar high.   I want to nod off on some fructose, sucrose, corn syrup-y goodness.

And I want to do so while watching something other than Teletoon or Sportsnet. 

And since we're playing this game I also want to be effortlessly thin.  I want to go from ho-hum to stunning in five minutes with minimal effort.  And no, a 'quick slick of lipstick and coat of mascara' will not do this for me as Cosmo, Glamour, etc etc etc, would have you believe.  Lipstick and mascara will simply upgrade my look from haggard to tired.

Fuck it.

I'm going to the store.