I had a little bit of a meltdown this weekend (okay, more than a little bit of a meltdown). One of the many joys of these crazy hormones coursing through my body. It was over something seemingly simple – getting dressed to go over to a friend’s house. While the last few weeks have been pretty warm, this Fourth of July weekend greeted us with some unseasonably cooler temperatures. With my normal wardrobe growing tighter by the day, getting dressed to go out has started to range from unpleasant to downright stressful. While I have accumulated enough sundresses and skirts to get me through the hot summer months, I was wholly unprepared for a day where the temperatures peaked in the low 70s (making the nighttime much, much cooler). For someone who is chronically cold, I thought jeans would be my best option – until I realized that my jeans no longer fit. I didn’t want to wear workout clothes (which I had been slubbing around in all day) and I didn’t want to wear a dress or skirt (because I knew I would be too cold). This left me staring blankly into my closet for about a half an hour, with nearly everything I owned on the floor. I laid in bed and stared blankly at the ceiling. I yelled at my husband. I cried. (I ended up just wearing a dress).
These are the very real parts of pregnancy that no one tells you about – crazy, irrational, and very real emotions. You know it’s going to happen (it’s part of the deal, after all). It wasn’t about the jeans not fitting (they had been on the cusp of wearable for quite a while and I am not delusional). But the completely unbearable sense of frustration (and maybe slight overreaction) when things that used to be simple just aren’t. When your husband just stands there, dumbfounded, because he doesn’t even know what to do with you (similar outbursts have occurred due to him eating the last ice cream bar and the restaurant giving me the last salad dressing). These meltdowns are never about the actual thing they seem directed toward, but rather just these suppressed emotions that come out at the strangest times. Thank goodness for having a husband who can (mostly) just laugh at it.
Other than the great outfit debacle and going to a friend’s for dinner, this weekend was relatively quiet. I ran on Saturday and Sunday morning with a new running group (long run Saturday and recovery run Sunday) and drove out to Chicago to meet up with some old running buddies the morning of the 4th. Of course, my run back in Chicago concluded with conversation and coffee (which is one of the things I look forward to the most when running back there). I am a huge proponent of rewarding myself after my runs, which in this case consisted of a skim latte with cinnamon and a bowl of oatmeal. Once I got home, I was absolutely exhausted. After going out for a quiet lunch we came back and vegged out in front of the TV for a few hours and went to bed super early (no fireworks for me this year).