I am on fire the last few days. I'm fairly certain this means that I'm ovulating.
You'd think this would make me all lovey dovey with my husband but nope.
I think it's a survival of the fittest thing for me right now.
Yesterday this was going through my head:
On the subject of my husband giving me a list of what our toddler ate all day.
"This man thinks half a kashi bar, some whole wheat bunny crackers, a stick of cheese and half a scrambled egg is acceptable eats in an 8 hour period for a nearly 2 year old?"
I blurted out that I don't have to wake up at 3am to make homemade healthy lunches for your guys but I do so for a reason. He had no response and left me alone for the rest of the night.
Tonight I woke up with the hunger of a thousand soldiers. I told DH as I made homemade hash at midnight, "I must be ovulating because I feel like I need to eat like a penguin trekking to some far reaching corner of the world to lay my freaking egg. Oh and you are really ticking me off."
PG: When AF is here do you need to have a reason? Ok, honey, before I went to bed, I packed the dishwasher, started it and cleaned the kitchen. That was 3 hours ago. How can one man in three hours amass 3 dirty bowls, 2 spoons, 1 knife, 1 fork and 2 cups when I made you dinner? Oh and did you eat TG's lunch that I left on the counter to cool?
DH: Oh, I thought that was leftovers.
PG: Argh! I'm so hungry. Go away until I have eaten.
Of course, I literally sat down after serving DH and myself the homemade hash when TG toddles into the living room peeved that I had left her in the bedroom to sleep alone.