I can't even blame my mood on the weather. Today is my favorite kind: impending rain and thunderstorms accompanied by a nice cool front.
To everyone I know, I'm an anomaly in this respect. I love rain, clouds, mist, thunder, wind, dramatic weather of the cool and cloudy kind. It comforts me. It rests contentedly behind my eyes. It doesn't burn my skin or make me sweat or hurt my eyes.
So, it's not the weather that's making me crabby, either.
I don't know what it is. When I awoke this morning, I felt pretty normal. But The Mood descended over me like a black shroud as I was blow-drying my hair, when my son sneaked into the bathroom and stood quietly beneath me. When I lowered the arm holding the hair dryer, I bonked him on the head with my elbow.
"Ouch!" he said. "Be careful, Mommy."
I was irritated that once again he had snuck in without knocking, a habit I'm trying to break him of. He's getting too old to walk freely into the bathroom when Mommy is in there doing mysterious Mommy things. Like taking a shower and personal activities of that ilk. I tried to be decent about it, but the irritation leaked through when I said, "Sweetheart, darnit, knock before you come in!"
And then I was reminded by him, for the umpteenth time this morning, to call his kindergarten teacher to find out when the fireman is expected to arrive for the kindergarten demonstration.
Today is speech therapy day, and normally we skip kindergarten (which is like preschool, and daily attendance is not required) on Tuesdays to concentrate on that activity. But the fireman is coming, and my son didn't want to miss it. So, I had to call to find out when he was coming, so we could work that in before zipping off to speech therapy.
And it was that final reminder that pushed me over the edge. I didn't want to be reminded again, and it wasn't even 8 am, yet. I didn't want to deal with phone calls in a foreign language and kindergarten and firemen and speech therapy and my diet, and my son's inevitable begging to take him to McDonad's as we sometimes do on our way home from Tuesday speech therapy, and cleaning the kitchen, and changing the sheets and doing more laundry and folding it and spending the afternoon trying to reign in my son's energy to sit the afternoon learning to read, write, add and subtract, and the further inevitable begging to play our favorite computer game afterward...
And so, that's why I'm crabby. Oh, and I'm sure PMS might have something to do with it, as well. Nice synchronicity, there, she adds wryly.
And so I thought I'd use the downtime--before picking up the boy from KG to bring him to our appointment--to do a little blogiting. And you know what? I don't even feel like that, today.
The clouds just broke open with lightning and thunder, and I think I'm just going to sit back and play my computer game for a little while. Haven't played it in weeks. Maybe it'll take my mind off my bad humor and my empty tummy.
