~~~For the life of you, despite being a relatively well-read, articulate woman, you cannot seem to spit out the appropriate words for the most banal situations. Can't remember the word for that wonderful device that cooks and reheats food in a manner of minutes?
Yeah, you're probably a touch on the stressed side.
That, or you're coming down with Alzheimer's.
Sorry, that probably doesn't help your stress levels much, huh?
~~~Your kids have to remind you to use your inside voice because your volume default for stressful situations is scream.
~~~You are consuming so much chocolate you have forgotten what vegetables taste like.
~~~When you try to exercise--because you know what a stress reliever it is--you have to stop every five minutes to complete some task that has come to mind and that can't wait. For the life of you, focusing on exercising is next to impossible.
~~~Your poor husband doesn't remember the last pleasant exchange you have had, but he vaguely remembers your honeymoon being nice.
~~~You're super sensitive to people's comments, especially if they are anything about your kids. Even comments that normally might make you smile, you find suspect, like when the acquaintance says, after meeting your child on the spectrum, "Wow, I would have never even suspected he had autism!" with a broad smile. You think, "What's THAT supposed to mean?" and get all paranoid.
~~~You run around your house trying to do about 74 things at once and just end up spilling apple juice and half cooked spaghetti all over your freshly washed floor.
~~~You forget your friend's birthday and actually feel irritated at HER. Why did her birthday have to come when you are so stressed out? Couldn't she have been just a touch more perceptive and pushed it back a week or two? I mean, seriously, the nerve!
~~~When the Red Cross calls to schedule your regular donation appointment, you feel giddy with excitement at the prospect of 30 whole minutes during which no kid could possibly interrupt you or talk to you or demand anything of you. You only wish the staff at the Red Cross would be less efficient and would keep you waiting at least 20 minutes. You'd relish the time to read outdated issues of Redbook and Good Housekeeping just because of the silence.
~~~At least once a month, you proclaim that you are quitting everything. You are DONE with the PTO, church, babysitting for friends, helping at school and will never, ever, ever, ever do another thing for someone else again, while your husband wisely nods and keeps his mouth shut. He knows it's PMS, but also knows he'd be taking his life into his own hands if he were to mention that fact.
~~~Did I mention you're probably eating enough chocolate to feed a small Third World village? And when you run out, you dsperately scrounge through 6-month-old Halloween candy, almost breaking a tooth on a stale Tootsie Roll, and you hate Tootsie Rolls.