My Nemesis

SuperMommy is, of course, a heroine of epic notoriety. Like Superman, Captain America, and Professor X before her, she rights wrongs and helps those in need. Most notably, her children. But also like these other heroes, she has an arch enemy. For SuperMommy, her enemy and single vulnerability are one. Lex Luthor and kryptonite combined into one horrible and sinister foe.

Hormones.

Hormones are amazing. Without them, I could never have children, never nurse them, and probably wouldn't fall so desperately in love with them on sight. However, hormones are also an evil the likes of which have never been known.

You might have been wondering where I was these last few days. The short answer is Minnesota, but the long answer is that I was a captive of my evil hormones, holding not only me but my entire family hostage.

You see, the girls have been eating more and more solid foods. They have two of their meals each day completely solid, and they have at least one opportunity a day to "play" with solid food. Smooshed peas or chunky bananas mostly get shoved into armpits and dropped on the floor, but occasionally make it from the high chair tray to a baby's mouth, by way of baby's own hand! It's amazing. However, what I didn't realize when we started giving the children more and more solid food was that it meant I was, essentially, beginning to wean my twins.

The human female body is amazing. We come equipped with four innate forms of birth control. The first is pre-pubescence. The next is menopause. The third is pregnancy itself (thank god we can only do THAT once at a time), and the last is breast feeding. Unfortunately, breast feeding is not perfect birth control, but if your body is producing enough milk to COMPLETELY satisfy at least one baby, the odds of you getting pregnant do go down. The more babies you're feeding, obviously the more milk you're producing, and again the less likely a pregnancy becomes. Yeah, it would be great if it were a perfect system, but as far as birth control methods go it's pretty good. Those first eight weeks that you're not hardly sleeping at all, that you've got a little monkey eating constantly... you're probably not going to get knocked up while all that's happening. And that is a relief.

But the weaning comes, as it must, and then you're up the creek. Now you haven't had a period in nigh a year and a half, and your body might be a little slow on the uptake as far as remembering exactly how to cope with that.

Now, I have never had particularly bad PMS. But this last week I've felt as though I were in danger of literally killing people. Besides being hysterically upset, generally depressed, and irrationally angry, I've broken out like I haven't since high school and CRAVED sugar and salt in a way that my pregnancy couldn't come close to comparing with. While my not-in-eighteen-monthly visitor hasn't actually arrived, I'm expecting her any day. And, oh hormones my hormones, the madness that has consumed me seems to have one suggestion to offer.

My hormones, these same demons that have me throwing vitamin bottles at doors and shrieking to the useless Comcast customer service reps that I'm going to puke on their carpets (only possibly an exaggeration), have an EXCELLENT idea for how to not go through this miserable PMS-ish ordeal.

"Let's have another baby!" say the hormones. "Let's have it RIGHT NOW!"

And, weakened by exhaustion, by aches and by my own fury, I think to myself, "Now that might not be such a bad idea."

Damn you, hormones! Damn you all! I thank you for the many gifts you've bestowed upon me, but this relationship is becoming far too abusive. All at once I'm doubting my ability to parent what with the anger and the crying and the constant nutella sandwiches, yet you've very nearly got me convinced that I just want to be pregnant again.

And I remember how much I hated being pregnant.

Hormones. My nemesis. This time I conquer you. This time I grit my teeth and wait for the tide to rise and wash over me and then to return to a modicum of sanity.

I win this time, hormones. I win this time.