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How To Love Your Cop
How To Love Your Cop

Horrormones

Years ago my daughter was having a really bad day. Like nothing was going right. At all. She was cranky. Really cranky. Like spouting off to me and her brother for nothing. Everything was bad. Really bad. Like climb back into bed and pull the covers over your head bad.

And then the tears started. And they wouldn’t stop. I remember coming out of her room, shaking my head at her little brother, who was nine at the time.

He looked at me with those sweet baby blues, and innocently comforted me with “That’s why they call them horrormones, Mom.”

The boy is SMART.

So that little memory came back to me last week. I was having a bad day. Like nothing was going right. At all. And I was cranky. Really cranky. And everything was bad. Really bad. And all I wanted to do was climb back into bed and pull the covers over my head.

It started with an innocent comment, early in the morning. I was tying my running shoes and Chief asks, “Where you going?” I said I thought I’d talk a walk. “Good!” he says, way too enthusiastically.

Now, on any other week, I would’ve known that he was glad I was taking care of myself, no more, no less. BUT, this particular morning, it meant I was FAT. Undesirable. Not meeting his standards. And of course, he’s embarrassed by my appearance. And all of sudden, I’m arguing with him. In my head. And boy, I’m letting him have it. Oh! So I need to exercise, huh? Well, buddy, do you know all the things I do every day?! I barely have time to fart by myself let alone take a walk! And suddenly, my head is spinning around and green stuff starts shooting out…

And then Little Guy (although he’s now as tall as me) asked nicely, “Mom, can you get me the milk?”

Okay, on any other week, I’d see that I was an arms length away from the fridge, and say, “Sure!” BUT, this particular morning, he was LAZY. And never mind the fact that he just started a new school and a new baseball team and his voice is changing and he finished all his chores and homework over the weekend, he was lazy! And he didn’t say please! And he’s taking advantage of my role as a mom. Well, buddy, do you know all the things I do for you?! I just packed your lunch and that requires planning, shopping, decision making, putting away groceries, and getting up early to help you out! And suddenly my head is spinning around and green stuff starts shooting out…

And then the phone rang. It was the pharmacy with it’s annoying computer-generated voice that I think is supposed to be cheerful, reminding me that I need to pick up my prescription.

So, any other week, I would be filled with loving gratitude that they provide this timely and wonderful service. BUT, on this particular morning, they were IMPATIENT. How dare you call me again! I already have this on my to do list for today, thank you very much, and I don’t need you to remind me that I have way too much to do, I’m constantly behind, and oh yes, nobody appreciates me!!! And suddenly my skull is rotating on my vertebrae and last week’s broccoli makes it’s reappearance…

And if anyone asks when my cycle is, I’ll dust off my husband’s semi-automatic and pretend I’m Angelina Jolie. Any other questions?!

Think I’ll take action on that thought to retreat to my sleep number bed and disappear beneath the feathers.

That’s why they call them horrormones…

August 27th, 2012

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