Wednesday, February 28, 2018

Hormones

Theo started speech therapy today. It’s been a long road - about six months of phone interviews and paperwork and evaluations just to get my almost four-year-old to make a “k” sound. Still, it’s convenient - takes place at B’s school, in a converted bathroom (ah, LAUSD at its finest), and the therapist was very nice. Oh, and it’s free, and hopefully will get Theo enunciating properly (his issue is he is “fronting” - saying T and D for G and K sounds) and easier to understand going forward. He could outgrow this on his own, but the extra help doesn’t hurt. I’m grateful for it. 

We had a pretty horrendous parenting week last week. The kids just never seemed to recover from their chaotic weekend in the mountains, and by a week later were so out of control with the whining and competing and complaining that I snapped and started yelling and throwing things. Which then left me feeling horribly guilty for days, long after the kids forgot all about it (I hope). 

In my defense, they were awful. And I gave them a big speech about no more racing or trying to be first all the time to the point that it ends up in fights and crying (this is about 99% Bobby’s issue, I might add). I laid down the law and they seem to be getting it. But I also noticed, as I’ve noticed for months now, that without fail the day after I ovulate I want to strangle every male that lives with me. I think what happens is I suffer such an intense hormone drop all at once that it’s really unbearable - it doesn’t make me anxious or depressed; it makes me fly into rages. Which is not good. I am currently looking into medication - of the newly legalized variety - to help chill me the fuck out in the few days a month that I become impossible to live with. Not sure how that’ll go but I’m doing some research. I have to do something because I can’t go on like this. Peri menopause is a bitch. 


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