(1) This week, I did not trade in my tears for anger. Nope, “not me.’ I did NOT suffer from unbelievable anger thanks to a wee babe (one that is now the size of an orange, in case you’re interested).
(2) My Anger (which I didn’t have) did not manifest itself in nearly every conversation with my husband. I did not become furious each time he tried to joke about a vaginal delivery; I did not find myself incensed each time he teased me about the pregnancy induced burps that I do NOT have.
(3) I did not threaten bodily harm to my (not so) sweet husband each time I didn’t become angry. No, and I specifically did not threaten to remove body parts. No, not me.
(4) I did not become disgusted each time I cooked, and I did not use those experiences to talk my husband into eating out all weekend long.
(5) Speaking of eating, I did not eat the cheerios, fruit snacks, and cheese that I had packed for my daughter to snack on during Church. No, I wouldn’t take food from my child like that.
(6) I did not drag my poor husband to ‘Babies R Us’ Sunday, where I did NOT spend 45 minutes trying to pick out “coming home outfits,” and I surely did not tear up each time I picked a teeny-tiny outfit.
(7) And, before I end this post, I must tell you that I neither ate an entire jar of Vlassic Dill Pickle Spears this week nor did I eat two giant bags of Cadbury Mini Eggs. No — that would just be gross. And, I am definitely not gross like that.