Grip? What grip?

I like to think of myself as a fairly even-keeled person when it comes to my emotions. I don’t cry a lot. I laugh when appropriate. I don’t let all the many things that irritate me throughout the day to really affect me. I don’t push my emotions on others. My normal course of action is to evaluate the situation, calmly and rationally think of a way to resolve it, and then go about addressing the issue. I get lots of practice at work.

However, as much as I would like to believe that I deal with stress in the most appropriate manner, various events in the course of the past week are leading to me to believe I am, in effect, losing my grip.

Last night, for example, was a roller coaster. Hubby just didn’t know what to do with me and upon review this morning, I conclude that I would have also felt his frustration. I threw what one could only call a temper tantrum when he jokingly pulled the comforter off the bed. I got upset when he giggled at me for no apparent reason. I got home at 8:30 and was looking forward to spending time with him only to find out that he was leaving at 9:00 to get the as-promised groceries. I suddenly ate the food I had sworn last week that I would never cook or eat again.

While I think some of what I flipped out over was valid to an extent, truly I took it a bit above and beyond the call of hissy fits. And when I think about it now, it frightens me how I over-reacted to these very simple incidents.

I have resorted to damage control mode. I am no longer able to orchestrate the dance of calmness I once performed so eloquently. I rely instead on looking back and apologizing for all the unquestionably odd and random (sometimes unpleasant) behaviors I exhibit. One can only hope that all of this will somehow crawl back inside me after junior arrives and I have had some time to get used to our new life.