Boys you may not want to read this. It's about girl stuff. You've been warned.

I want to take the time to apologise to my husband in advance. I have begun my time of change. For the next six months I am going to turn into crazy bitch-face wife.  It's not intentional - it's hormonal. Apparently it is also quite horrifying if you're my husband.  To make sure that we don't have any little ones, I have an implant put in once every three years. It has some wonderful positives. I don't have to remember to take medication every day. For two and a half of those years I'm a rather normal person. I will have the odd tears, but mostly I'm cheerful and enthusiastic about everything. Before I went on the implant my 'time of the month' was fairly distressing. Extremely hormonal. On the implant it's much more mellow. Except for the first and last three months. During the last three months the hormone in the implant starts to run low. My skin breaks out, I start to cry all the time and Vaughan searches the house for my hot water bottle. It starts off slow. Maybe a day or two each month ... however it starts to get worse each time. This is where we are right now.  It's just the beginning.

Do you know what's worse? I won't really reach the peak of crazy bitch face until I get the new implant put in. I go from low hormone, to the highest concentration of hormone in the whole cycle. The levels will decrease exponentially over the three years, making the first week hell and the rest of that month pretty bad. The first time I went on the implant Vaughan was afraid to breathe for the first month. The worse thing is that I had no idea I became crazy bitch face. It's like becoming a werewolf. You're like 'hey that wasn't so bad' and everyone else informs you that during your crazy time you've murdered half a village. Except in this instance that village is your husband's soul. The second time around it was still bad, but I handled it a little better. I tried to reign myself in and walk away before I was nasty to kind sweet Vaughan.

I've been stressed at work lately so I imagine this time will be no less horrifying. I apologise in advance to Vaughan.  Everyone else, please feel free to defriend me for the next six months.  Expect lots of cake related tragedies, tears and anger.  I may write several blog posts about how fat I am. It's not you, it's definitely me and my hormones.

See you all in six months.

P.S. It's 7:30 and Vaughan isn't home yet. He quite obviously has stopped loving me and run off with a pretty girl.

P.P.S. He's home. I informed him that the crazy bitch-face cycle had begun. He said I wasn't a bitch and that he loves me. That made me also want to cry.