You guys, a couple of nights ago, my darling husband kindly informed me that in a few short years, I will have to stop calling myself a mommy blogger and start calling myself a granny blogger because I’ll be 50! FIFTY! How even??? And of course, being in my *gulp* mid 40’s means that I am starting to experience the beginning of the delightfully named change of life….. Gah!
I’ve definitely noticed the change starting to creep up on me in the past year. I’ve got baggy eyes, grey hairs and yes, even my cycles have started to change. This cycle lasted a whole… wait for it…. TWO months! That is unheard of for a regular 28 day girl *snigger* like me. So when it finally ended yesterday, I pretty much felt like I’d been flattened by a steamroller!
And I’ve been moody AF for the past few weeks so many things are irritating me, stupid, trivial things that I really shouldn’t care so much about like…
The word Mum. Mum is to me what “moist” is to others. It’s a word that gives me the grills.
Or people who hum all the time. Come over here and let me slash your voice box!
Or seeing my social media feeds filled with things like this:
How presumptions? Don’t presume to know what others are going through and dealing with, you don’t know them or their hearts. And the irony of these kinds of statements is that we’re all just trying to do the same thing…. survive which is even more ironic given that none of us gets out of here alive. And nobody gets through life unscathed.
Or, how my husband asks me if I’ve got PMS? Seriously? After 15 years together, you haven’t learned that it’s dangerous to your personal safety to ask me questions like that?
Or, shit the school makes me do, because I suck at crafty and yesterday I tried so hard to make a people paper chain and I failed…. in every attempt… even after Youtubing and Pinteresting the shit out of that sucker. I still couldn’t do it and my husband had to come to my rescue before I either stabbed myself with the damn scissors or threw our crafty bin over the wall.
So many things annoying the hell out of me at the moment. Perhaps the biggest problem is that I’m simply just tired. All the time. Tired. All the tireds. Tired. Bony weary tired!
Ja so, mostly all my bugbears revolve around me, how irritated and prickly I am, how tired I am. Getting old it’s a bitch!