Moods swing much?

So today sucked some donkey balls.

I spent the first half of the day trying to convince myself that the spotting and cramps I was experiencing could possibly implantation spotting. By 2:00 p.m. even I had to admit that if that was burrowing, I must get ready to birth an alien.

Yet another failed cycle.

Now I normally don't get cranky or crabby, but holy cow I sure did today. We've been rebuilding the deck in front of our house, which means that the place vaguely resembles a junkyard at the moment. Tools, wood, nails all over the place. No steps up to the front of the house and everyone using the side door, which leads directly into the very small kitchen and has no mud area. Oh yeah ~ and it's rained 75 mm in the last 48 hours. Did I forget to mention that?

But it was all ok, because Frodo and Mini-Me were with their mother, so the mess was outside along with HB, while I remained inside, hanging around and just doing long weekend stuff.

Until I saw her car pull up at 1:00 p.m. and not one, not two, but three boys pile out of the car. No coats on. One in shorts with no socks. Did I mention that it's rained 75 mm in the last 48 hours and has been about ... oh I don't know .... zero frickin' celcius???? Not exactly short and no coat weather!

But stepping aside from that for a moment, I say casually to HB, who is outside building the deck, that I was a tad surprised to see the two step munsters here and oh by the way, who is this third child? Ahhh says HB. He and BM (delectable acronym for Birth Mother but I like the other implication as well....yes, I'm immature today) had a phone conversation and they thought it would be good for the kids to come visit this afternoon.

I normally don't get upset about not being included or consulted in the planning, but today I did. And in true passive aggressive fashion, said nothing. I allowed it to sit, fester and brew until I boiled over.

Because my afternoon was spent listening to the side door open and shut over and over and over and over; picking up water bottles all over the house; pulling children (we're up to six now because each one apparently grows an extra child in our basement) off shelving in the back basement; shooing dawgs outside; mopping the kitchen floor up three times from mud; explaining to Frodo why he can't wear his muddy rollerblades across the living carpet; kicking kids out of the fridge; asking kids not to play soccer inside the house and explaining why opening the cabinet where the pinwheel crystal is kept and using said doors as goal posts is never a good idea; putting up with "Daaaaad lets me have five oreo cookies! Daaaaaaad lets me do that!".

Because it's raining outside so guess where the kids are? Inside. And where is Dad? Outside. And I'm thinking BM is probably off getting a manicure.

I kept hanging on, knowing that BM was expecting them home at 5:00 p.m. for supper. As for our supper? I was looking forward to the steak I've had marinating since around noon, with a nice side salad.

Unbelievably, at 4:30 ... just as I'm seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, I hear HB on the phone. "Sure" says he, "I'll feed them supper".

I had one nerve left, and that phone call just did the final tap dance performance on it. I'm upstairs, door closed, watching "Clean Sweep", eating chocolate covered almonds and popping Extra Strength Pamprin.

And wondering why the hell I would ever want to add another child into this mix!