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My P for a2z could have been PAT, for my hubby, or procrastination, purpose, presence; even popcorn or peanuts or personality. Instead I’ve opted to venture out on a hormonal limb… my P is for PREMENSTRUAL. (If you wish to run away screaming now, go ahead. No hard feelings.)
I didn’t even realize I’d developed a problem until I had baby #3 (the one who started his senior year in high school this week).
Several months after his birth I found myself sitting on the living room…
