You know what we women don’t talk about much? The fact that once a month we become (at least I do) a raving lunatic. Seriously, that’s not putting it too dramatically. We took a road trip and spent the weekend in Austin with my husband’s sister and her family. This is a stretch for me anyways because I tend to be, gasp/shock, a bit of a control freak. It’s actually why I think I was given triplets, I can manage them pretty well most of the time because I’m VERY schedule oriented. Trips away are trying for me. I’m sure they are tools to help me learn and grow, but in the midst of it, I tersely whisper to my husband that we’re never leaving home again.
It gets easier, I know. One and a half year old triplets are hard at home so you can imagine what a struggle they are on the road. Even the sweetest kids, which two of the three of mine are these days, get overtired and scared at new surroundings and frustrated that they can’t communicate what they want.
So here was the formula for my weekend: 3 somewhat uneasy 18 month olds + 2 families co-habitating, each with three kids + one triplet mommy whose time of the month had arrived = RAVING LUNATIC.
Friday was sleepless. The baby of our family decided to toss and turn in bed with Bray and me all night, REFUSING to sleep in the pack and play. Saturday morning was an early morning family photo shoot with my wedding photographer in chilly temps and summer clothes, all my genius idea. Driving and back and forth and changing schedules, so by Saturday night I was a very unpleasant person – I’m sure some might even apply a curse word here but I’ll refrain (though not defend myself as its use would be appropriate).
The weekend itself was fine. It was great to see these in-laws, they are a really cool fun family. The kids did well overall. My husband was a trooper and managed to let me flip out at least two times a day without flying off the handle – he should get a medal. But this morning, I find the whole thing fairly humorous because even though I was FULLY AWARE by Sunday morning that there was a hormonal invader causing me to be less than pleasant, instead of trying to correct for it, I just allowed it to wreak havoc. Even when my husband tried to attribute some highly impatient behavior on the ride home to this hormonal invader, I swore up and down that it had nothing to do with that but rather the fact that we were trapped in the car with toddlers for nearly four hours. Not that the latter was uninvolved in my behavior, but my actions were not commiserate to the situation.
Women have to deal with a lot. And it’s slightly unfair that we have some monthly hormones that make us act rashly, even when we are aware of what’s going on. But I wonder if I should at least take a little more responsibility for my behavior and try to mitigate some of the craziness so my sweet husband and kids don’t have to live with the Tasmanian Devil for 48 hours………..