Cry, cry, cry; Why why why

I cried myself to sleep last night. It felt very pms induced, but as a mildly depressive aunt who was in the throes of menopause once told me, you may be acting all crazy because of hormones, but that doesn't mean you should dismiss what's happening. Things that usually get tamped down are coming to the surface. You may as well treat them as legitimate; you might get something out of it if you do.

So I was legitimately sobbing into my pillow last night as Anonyhub and Anonybabe played in the next room. I'd been a megabitch to Anonyhub when he got back from work. (First I'd put in a full 8-6 workday, then he logged in a few hours). I'd been having a good time with Anonybabe, much to my relief - she was issuing no face slaps and half of her previous grouchiness, and she interspersed goodwill giggling and huge blocks of time entertaining herself with jar lids and bottle parts while I did some cooking. I was really enjoying myself, and was surprised when Anonyhub came in and I was immediately at his throat and escalating the argument for every little comment.

"What is your deal?" he walked back from the kitchen to ask me, after I'd kicked a beach ball hard in his general direction. Every time he asked what my problem was I earnestly replied that it was him, then realized that even on the days he really is my problem I usually have the self-possession to refrain from saying so. I still went on to rant about how I hated our schedule and how I never get to bed on time because Anonybabe is always up until the witching hour and so I never get up on time and am perpetually late to work and on and on. Anonyhub stood up for himself and managed to avoid being pinned with any of the wild blame I was trying to lay on him for my lack of sleep. With an abrupt and cursory good night I climbed into bed and seethed for a while. And when I heard Anonyhub and Anonybabe reading books and squealing happily in the next room, I started to cry.

I asked myself what the real problem might be and immediately my mind went to some fantasizing I'd been doing earlier. I'd been trying to figure what it would take for me to quit my job so I could be at home with Anonybabe more. I'd gone so far as to estimate the baseline housing and food expenses and noodled out what I'd need to make per hour.

I realized that I'm not really happy with the amount of time I spend with Anonybabe and I don't know what I'm going to do about it yet. I realized that I hated that Anonyhub and Anonybabe went to bed after me because I wish they were by me all the time when I'm home. I'm kind of surprised that this is coming up because when Anonybabe was an infant I didn't feel as bad about being away from her. I felt bad, but I didn't feel like I was doing something wrong. And now, this feels all wrong. It feels like my priorities are out of whack.

Yelling at Anonyhub didn't help. Maybe I'll try talking to him about it.