the ongoing battle for world domination

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the battle of the hormones!!

In this corner, we have the underdog, logic. logic tries to see things through other people's eyes, think through all the consequences of words and actions, and behave rationally and somewhat unemotionally.

And in this corner, we have mood swing! mood swing loves to make rash decisions, thinks only of herself, does not think or plan ahead, and is an emotional nut job, plus a little crazy thrown in for good measure.

Ok, so here's a prime example of how a pregnant woman's mood swings can work. Yesterday evening, I asked John to clean the guinea cage, because I was feeling about as great as a monkey ass looks, but he politely declined my offer. (read 'What, are you nuts? They're not my guineas!') I didn't get much sleep last night, so I was a tad cranky this morning. I noticed that John had left his rinsed cereal bowl in the sink instead of putting it in the dishwasher.

Enter the beginnings of a conspiracy theory, or How John Is Out To Destroy Brea's Life.

Earlier in the week, I meant to ask John if we could keep one of the trash cans near were we park the cars, so if I have any trash in my car, I can just toss before I go in the house. (If I don't do it right away, it's not going ot happen.) But I forgot to ask him. When we got in the car for Bible study, I saw a granola bar wrapper on the seat beside me. It was mine, from yesterday, but somehow, that all translated into how unattentive John is, and how he should have known that I wanted a trash can there, and then I started thinking about how much I hate it when he eats in my car, because he sticks french fries in the air conditioning vent to cool them, and one time a fry slid back into the vent, and my car smelled like stale Whataburger for weeks, and how he also doesn't throw away the newspaper when he reads it in my car ... By the time I drove by Chilis on my way into Austin, I was seriously about to pull in and tell him off!

Enter logic.

I realized I needed to cool down, because I like it when John likes me, and if I unloaded all the above-mentioned crazy on him, it would probably start us on the road to Where John No Longer Likes Brea Becaue She Is Pregnant And Crazy And Has mood swings. logic was telling me that I do, in fact, have a Most Wonderful Husband. He is not out to get me, and it is even possible that I overreacted just a tad to the cereal bowl thing. (I mean, after all, mine is still sitting on the table.) He cannot read my mind about the trash can, seeing how I never even mentioned it to him, and he hasn't done that french fry thing in a really long time. And if he doesn't ever throw the newspaper from my car away, not a single time, that's ok. There are worse things in life. He loves me, and he thinks I'm cute, and he's crazy about the kids, and he is really, really good in bed. I can live with the rest, because I'm so crazy-go-nuts about him, too.

It seems like logic has won out today. Let's hope it keeps on winnin'.

Oh, and we went to see the ever-wonderful, ever-fabulous, ever-cool grandmother today. That's right, NANNY!!!! Nanny happens to be the best-est grandmother of all time, and she sends really funny birthday cards, too. And she's got great feet, and always looks like she has had a pedicure. I aspire to be like her. She rocks.