HP seems pretty happy for me to do EVERYTHING ahead of when I did with J. Including the stupid cryfest. With J, I was about 13 weeks, and C looked at me askance, and I got upset and started crying. We were supposed to be heading to his parent's house in just a few minutes, and my mascara started dripping down my face and onto my pink shirt. This made me cry even harder, and I recall saying something like MIL won't want to see me with mascara on my shirt, so I can't go. Nevermind that I could just have changed my shirt...which I did.
Today was a rough day. I just felt bitchy and hormonal all day, I had to drive around 4 parking lots at work to find a spot because they're doing construction in a couple lots so there are fewer spaces available. C woke up cranky which didn't help, because he was just snippy and jerky from the moment he woke up. I was just plain not in a good mood at all. My peach at lunch was just tart enough to make me gag, so no peach. My caramel Yoplait yogurt tasted gross (apparently HP decided that yesterday's was enough, and no more of that for us) so I didn't get to finish that. Then my commute home was an HOUR because of stupid traffic (usually no more than 45 minutes) and I had to stop at the store to get milk and some other things, and the stupid self checkout machine was not at all faster than the other way.
Anyway, by the time I got home and the dogs were whining at me and J was chewing on my shirt and got put in timeout within 5 minutes of me getting home, it was taking all my willpower not to kill anyone. So I gave myself a timeout, filled the bathtub with cold water to soak my feet, and sat there. After a few minutes C came in and asked if he could help in any way, and I started crying because I am crazy bloated and "none of my pants fit and it's hot and I don't have any shorts that button because I'm fat and I've gained 3 pounds in a week and I just want to poop!" At this point I started laughing and crying at the same time, and still lamented not having pants that comfortably button over the chub. I realize that the reason I've gained 3 pounds in a week (or less) is that I'm suffering from the common pregnancy complaint of constipation. I never had this problem when I was pregnant with J, but then, I also only wanted fruit (early on) when I was pregnant with him. Not salt and BBQ meat. *sigh*
I felt much better after I was done crying and got to eat some ribs with spicy BBQ sauce. Mmmmm, spicy.