Positive Parenting starts 2009 with another new series - Being Pregnant. It will not be like the same old diary-type event. Instead, we have an exciting package lined up for you with Emma Dalton-Brown, as her body and mind change, as she shops for baby clothes and prepares for the experience of childbirth. You are in for an interesting ride.

PROVE TO me that pregnant women can get through 40 weeks without some form of emotional outbreak and I'll eat the page you're reading now. Okay, maybe not, just in case there's one of you who truly thinks that the garbage at Riverton smells of blooming magnolias!

The catch, of course, is that those of us with a 'bun in the oven' do not want to be told that we're being moody. It's fine if we bring the subject up and admit that we are feeling this way, but it is totally unacceptable for others to agree with us! That's just the lay of the land. Deal with it!

Oops, sorry about that. I was having a moment. I've had quite a few of those since early October last year. It started one afternoon when a fellow was coming into our driveway to speak to me. My dogs were outside and I told the man to wait until I brought them in. He did not listen, and kept walking towards the house.

Barking frenzy

Now, my little four-legged children are rather protective, especially since another teeny creature started growing inside of me, so they launched into a barking frenzy. At this point, the stranger began to wave his cutlass at them. Who told him that was the best suggestion in the box?

I approached him and when I tell you 'obeah' was emanating from my eyes, I'm not kidding! There I am, telling the man off for threatening my little ones, and he's the one with the machete in his hand. You think I even thought about the consequences? I had no idea if he'd harm me, but I was so distraught at the thought of what he might have done to my dogs, that I didn't care. Once I'd had my say, I told him to leave and never come back.

Teach them all a lesson

It gets better! A few days later, I went to watch the Reggae Boyz play Mexico at the National Stadium. The foreign fans did not exactly use kind words towards our players, calling them names in Spanish that I dare not repeat here, per chance I am banned from writing in this paper. My hormones could have done with their own run around the football pitch rather than sabotage my reputation! I have no idea why I figured it was on my head to teach them all a lesson in manners, but nevertheless, I lectured and wagged my finger. My husband begged me to stop. I simply couldn't understand. Why wasn't he as upset as I was? These people had been downright rude and they should be ashamed of themselves. Was I the only one who could see this?

As it turns out, that week was the worst for me when it comes to irrational feelings. However, since then, I have broken down and cried about a dirty dish, crumbs on the counter and the ice trays being empty. Excuse me for expecting the latter to refill themselves with water!

The truth is, it's difficult to empathise with any pregnant person (I hear there's been one man in this condition!), if you've not experienced it yourself. I clearly recollect times when I thought my friends were being horrible for absolutely no reason. I scorned them behind their backs and vowed that I'd be as sweet as green peas when my turn arrived. This is why I hate it when dear hubby shakes his head at me while grinning. His actions speak louder than words. Stop telling me I'm hormonal!

Emmadaltonbrown@gmail.com