We all know that pregnant women crave something during their pregnancy. Usually it’s something edible, but not in my case. I crave consistency: the same day-to-day, no anxiety inducing spontaneity to throw me off. However, being a mom already proves this impossible. Adding the pregnancy to my already bustling 4 year old and 2 year old, who beg and whine to no end it sometimes feels, boils my blood a little more than usual. I become quite reactive then, like a thrown grenade, sailing through the air waiting for the ground to hit. Usually, my husband enters the room or situation just as the grenade touches the space between impact and bounce. Inevitably, I will hear, “Kristel, just CALM down,” as if it were that easy. Being a mother is the kind of struggle for which I was never prepared. It seems so silly to say that since it is a no-brainer. I thought breaking up with boys would be the struggle that I could never overcome, but time does heal. I don’t feel like time heals maternal aggravations, unless you try to escape. When I do find time to escape, I still cannot overcome the guilt for leaving. That is why I need consistency. I need to be able to expect what is going to happen with my kids and my husband and know the reactions, so I can deal with them adequately and not explode.