To say that I've been a bit emotional lately isn't really accurate. To say that I've been a complete mess characterizes it much better.
I thought that earlier in the week when i cried for over an hour upon thinking Russ was dying in bed only to find out he was having a nightmare was a bit excessive, but I blamed it on it being the middle of the night and a truly terrifying moment. Then there was yesterday.
I'm happy to report that my emotional ups and downs are not limited to just crying. When my nail place gave me a hard time about being 10 minutes late for my appointment, I became so angry that I was shaking and told the nail girl on the phone I could not possibly come in as I was far too upset. (It was a ridiculous situation over which I will NEVER return to the salon, but how angry I was seemed excessive.)
Then last night after dinner...
All Russ asked is what I ate for the day. I have to admit it was a particularly bad eating day for me. It had started with my usual yogurt, but went downhill fast. At work when my friend offered to get me McDonald's breakfast, I had to go for it. I did have my V-8 Fusion drink and an apple but then the nail place situation caused me to find comfort in Wendy's fries and a shake (did you know they have shakes? And they come with whip cream and a cherry?). And although I know it's wrong, I have to declare that those fries completely altered my mood back to happy pregnant girl. For a couple hours.
So I tell him what I ate (may have "forgotten" to mention the shake) and he says "Baby, you need to eat vegetables every day." Like I don't know this? The conversation went on and I asked him to help me eat vegetables and he didn't understand how to do that and it went on and on for about 15 minutes and then I started crying, said "I want to go home now!" (we were in our favorite kabob restaurant), went to the car where I sobbed and howled for 15 minutes. I'm pretty sure Russ felt confused. I felt he could have been more supportive and helped me figure out how to eat more veggies, his stance was "just eat them, what's the big deal? We all do things we don't want to do". So I cried and said how I'm sure he wishes he could be proud of me and the way I've been taking care of myself and the baby by eating immaculately (did someone say projection?) and that I'm sure he wished he could tell everyone that I work out every day and am in better shape now than ever (more projection?) but that it just wasn't the case.
It doesn't take a genius to figure out that it was my guilt that came pouring out in the car last night. I don't feel proud of the way I'm handling the whole eating thing. Yesterday was particularly terrible and not typical of what I eat every day, but still. I know I need to do better and Russ putting that mirror up to me threw me over the edge. But to cry that hard about it? Ugh. I felt like such a girl...you know stereotypically hormonal and sensitive. Hate that. There was a moment when he looked at me with pure pity.