050 Orange.

I may or may not have hit the mailbox with my van this morning.

And someone’s vehicle in the Albertson’s parking lot last week.

Both were minor … very minor. No dents, just a little of their paint rubbing off on my monstrous van. But over the past few weeks I’ve just started to feel like I’m unraveling. I am a walking cliche. It’s not just that I can‘t DRIVE. I am also:

1. Acting like a lunatic

2. Unable to calculate anything correctly, even with assistance. I usually just tell Husband/the cashier/whoever I’m talking to on the phone “just tell me how much it is,” or, “just tell me what that means.“ I don’t care anymore if I sound dumb. JUST TELL ME THE ANSWER SO I DON’T HAVE TO THINK.

3. Slow in mind and in body. I can’t chase children and I don’t get jokes.

4. HUNGRY. So, so hungry.

This morning I had my glucose tolerance test. I was supposed to fast for 6 hours beforehand, but I had to take a shower, make lunches, and get the kids ready for preschool and Mother‘s Day Out and I cannot do that without any food. It’s hard enough when I can’t drink my coffee … and before you say anything, I know I have a coffee problem. I do not wish to discuss it. I do what I need to do to get through the day.

If I wasn’t pregnant, I would be taking crazy supplements from GNC to help me be faster, stronger, and smarter than my young. It feels like I’m in a constant battle to maintain my sharpness, and right now I’m losing. Coffee helps me hold on to just the tiniest bit of the cliff I’m hanging off of.

Anyway, clearly there was no way I could get through my morning without any food at all. My friend Lila just had her glucose test and her doctor said she could eat protein, but nothing that turns to sugar in your body … so if she can do it, so can I, right?! Yes. Yes I can. I immediately asked Husband to make some eggs, and he did, and I proceeded to eat all of them even though he was making them for he and I to split. I tried to act sorry.

I was not.

I won’t bore you with the details of my morning, but suffice it to say it was one of those days where I wondered why we are having more kids when the ones we have are so hard to keep a handle on. You know, the same question you’re probably asking yourself right now. ONE put two, perfectly-shaped, syrupy handprints on the wall. TWO seems to have discovered nakedness and now strips himself and runs away when you try to catch and clothe him. Husband has an irritable bowel. It was just a lot to deal with on a day when all I was allowed to ingest was water (and eggs).

I then hit the mailbox, dragged the kids to their destinations in the rain, and after that, while I was searching in vain for a parking spot at the hospital where my OB’s office is located, my mother called to see “how I was feeling.” PISSED OFF. That’s how I was feeling.

Husband said we have our health and our happiness so life is not that bad, and I know he’s right. It’s not bad at all. I am just a hormonal wreck, lumbering around and crashing into things, looking for food. But I love my kids, and we do have our health, and I won’t be pregnant forever … and even if all hell breaks loose, there is always medication.