Hormones.

So, the other day, early in the morning, when I was ready for my second breakfast, I decided I wanted a boiled egg. Needed some protein STAT. Feeling a little queasy.

I went to the kitchen cabinet looking for the small sized, dishwasher safe pot with the glass lid. I knew exactly what I needed. And it was NOT there. Hmm. It wasn't on the stove, wasn't on the cabinet. I opened the dishwasher (which is my least favorite thing to do these days because it makes me gag on a consistent basis due to my heightened sense of smell) and found it there. My pot was resting dirty in the dishwasher with some sort of gross former gravy-looking substance caked on it. Had my husband been home, I shudder to think what obscenities I would have yelled at him.

Instead, my lip pouted out and I kid you not, I started to cry. No, not cry. I SOBBED. I was SO upset that I could not boil my egg in the special pot. I was behaving like a two year old.

Ah, pregnancy hormones. You make me so nutty.

30 weeks, 1 day (well, 6.5 hours) and counting...