French Toast and Brownies.

I got up and made them both french toast. For Joey I made coffee, since I am really not supposed to be drinking the stuff myself, even though I have almost everyday since I found out I was pregnant. Giving up alcohol seemed enough until I read in this real "natural" pregnancy book that women who drank eight cups of coffee a day had a fifty percent higher chance of having a stillborn.
So I just had a little cup, and didn't finish all of it. So what's that? A 1% chance or something? (I hate pregnancy books.)

But anyways my point was that I was trying to be nice, trying to be all wifely, you know. Serve him like he was the "king of this castle", like that marriage book I flipped through yesterday told me to do. And the night before he had told me he really likes french toast, like way more than waffles or pancakes (which is what I have been making for the last FIVE years), so I got up and made french toast.

Even though my good deed did make me feel nice for about thirty minutes, I was in a bad mood by the time everything was cleaned up and put away.

I locked myself in my bedroom and did some yoga/kickboxing/dance stretching. I thought this would help (Yahoo posted today that to be happy in thirty minutes one thing you can do is increase your physical activity) but it didn't.

I unlocked the door (bad idea) and got in the shower, and Ethan was soon begging to come in with me. In about three minutes I was screaming at him to not hang on the towel rack. He was sent to time out for a bad attitude, and I got to finish my shower in peace, even though I needed a time out for a bad attitude too.

This mood has hung around all day. It's really quite annoying. I think it's my hair, ( I look like one of the Beatles. Growing hair out sucks.) and my growing thighs, and Ethan for being so darn demanding and Joey for not loving me like I want him too.

Boo hoos.

Sometimes writing these things help to get them out of my heart, or at least makes me see what a sissy I am being.

At one point today I told Joey I was in a bad mood, wanting him to ask why, and if there was anything he could do (like maybe hug me for gosh sakes) and he said, " Yeah, I noticed. That happens sometimes."

I hate men sometimes. One, for being so logical, and two, for being so insensitive.

I took a little nap, which usually makes me feel worse but today for some reason made me feel a little better. Joey left for softball and I took a bath. Once I got out of the bath, I had finally decided to really turn things around, so Ethan and I made brownies for dinner. The best part was when he turned to me with his hands and face covered in batter and said, "Mmmmm, I like chocolate when it's not maked yet." I totoally agree. So anyways, now I am writing. It's late, and I am rushing to be done so that when Joey comes home I can be there for him. There is a part of me that still wants to be mean, even though he called, wants to hang out when he gets home.

I need another brownie.