I woke up from my nap crying. None of my bras fit me and I just invested in new maternity bras only a few weeks ago. Mr. Cranky thought this was hilarious which didn’t help my mood. He was laughing so hard as I sat there in half-slumber crying and all he could say was how happy it made him that my boobs are so big. Going on and on and on about how he has never been with anyone with such giant breasts.
Unfortunately for him, he gets no pleasure as they are off limits until the tenderness goes away. One frustration is that all of the good shops to go and get measured are closed due to covid so Mr. C has had the duty of measuring. [Mr. C: Oh no, I must correct you. I have had the PLEASURE of measuring duty]. Such delight he took in my moment of tears and cranks – I suppose I should pride myself in the talent it takes to laugh and cry literally at the same time. Luckily, on this day I swiftly started to see my silliness and get past the moment. We aren’t reminded often enough to embrace our body changes rather than putting ourselves down. [Mr. C: let’s see how you would have embraced your boobs SHRINKING]
All in all, I have been more tranquil and this week was going without a hitch UNTIL…..yes there has to be an until. Until, I was speaking to a pregnant friend of mine. I was telling her how surprised and proud I was that Cranky Cankles was gaining traction and even had more hits than I could expect from my family and friends I had sent the link to.
Eager to build our community, I asked her if she had any cranky stories that might be added as content. Her response? “I have no psycho moments”.
I was taken aback and took a deep breath to explain how Cranky Cankles is all about the hormones taking over. About the humour of how children can make your mood shift quicker than a torpedo and NOT about psychomoments. However it was at this moment when I stopped listening to her and started questioning myself. Am I a psycho? Are people reading this and thinking I am a psycho? Why would Mr. C want to marry a psycho?
I had to end the conversation abruptly because I could feel that crankiness creeping in. I was about to go full raging bull when Mr. C, who had been in the room and heard snippets of my call, said “don’t worry you are not a psycho, you are just a cranky witch”. These loving words stopped my rage and I had to laugh. Mr. C really knows how to sooth, flatter and assure me. I am just hoping this will still be the case in the delivery room.
First I have to emphasise the pure torture that that boob tenderness causes…me. Really, not cool. Second, I can proudly offer my services as a very quick, precise and discerning boob measurer. I do have to also point out that the fit really depends on the brand and style of bra too.
This week was good, it felt like we are really getting into a rhythm and finding balance adjusting to all the change. But then there comes this “friend.” Really to deny having feelings, particularly when becoming a parent for the first time, really is the definition of a psycho, isn’t it? [Miss C: I hope she never reads this]