WARNING! To all the guys that read my blog I'm giving you fair warning that today I'm talking about mood swings, chocolate cravings and being really uncomfortable once a month so "anyone who wants to be a can't-hack-it pantywaist who wears their mama's bra, raise your hand" and stop reading (that's a direct Sandlot quote by the way)!
Growing up, my dad did all the grocery shopping in our family and my sister and I would tag along frequently to "help" which for me meant flirting or googley eyeing cute bag boys. It never seemed to bother him when we had to purchase femine products but I on the other hand was always mortified! In fact, in the 7th grade some girlfriends and I came up with a code name for our periods so we could discuss this horrible new thing called womanhood without the boys knowing what we were talking about. Our boys were smart because it took them all of 10 minutes of a lunch conversation to figure out who "George" was. I am embarrassed to tell you that to this day I still refer to my cycle as "George" and will refer to it as such for the remainder of this conversation.
The only reason I'm even talking about this subject is because I am here to verify that all scientific data regarding crazy hormonal actions are indeed true during the week of "George". I lash out in insane ways, get crazy hungry for things like double hamburgers and chocolate cake and am so physically exhausted by the afternoons that all I want to do is lay on the sofa with the air conditioning set to 57 degrees and eat a double hamburger and chocolate cake. Last night my poor, unsuspecting husband was subject to my Dr. Jekyllness when he entered the kitchen to see what I was preparing for dessert and I immediately grabbed my coveted jar of PB2 and held it close to my chest and with great fervor, raised voice and crazy eyes said something like, "It's mine!!!! You have cookies and junk food and this is all I have!!!". Do you know what would have happened if he had asked me if "George" was visiting? Oh the thought! Thankfully, I have a very patient husband who was willing to overlook my insanity at that time.
Despite the fact that I felt like a lead balloon this morning, I lugged my 28 pound son into the gym and with very little passion proceeded to do my workout. The good news is I feel lighter and my mood is much cheerier...for now. If anyone tries to touch my PB2 that may change....