Change of Life.....

Last fall I can remember telling one of my best friends that I had the strongest feeling something big was coming.  I get these feelings from time to time and they are always right on the money.

The other night we were reminiscing about this and marveling at all the big changes that had happened since then, and we were laughing when we looked up and noticed the boys coming home in the 1994 Dodge Caravan.  She said it was so strange to see that van driving around, and then when she got close enough to see who was in it, for there to be 2 boys who looked just alike.  "Wait till you get the dogs in there, people will be running off Main Street," was her remark.  The dogs and the boys are equally good looking, in my opinion.  I am not surprised people would stare.  :)

The 1994 Doge Caravan is now on the road!  The single most important thing this means to me is that I no longer have to go to Wal Mart, or anywhere, really.  There is always a boy more than happy to run and get whatever I have forgotten.  These are indeed good days, long in coming to us.

For the first time in 24 years, I get myself up in the morning, get myself ready, and drive off to work, by myself..  That's it.  That's all.  The first morning I left before The Grand Finale did, I kissed them both and said it was so strange to just be driving off and leaving them there.  They smiled and rolled their eyes, which is as good a reaction as I get these days, and said not to worry, that they would be fine.  They practically patted me on the head, which I tried to take gracefully.

I cried on the way down the street and decided to stop for a donut to commemorate this glorious occasion.

And it was very strange, but they were all right.  Despite my constantly checking my phone in case of emergency all day, nothing happened at all.  Four days in, it just keeps happening.  I hardly know how to act.  The second morning I showed up at work an hour early, mostly because I didn't know what else to do or where else to go.  I am seriously considering setting my alarm for 6:30 instead of 5:15 for the first time in my adult life.  Of course I'm putting it off so I don't get severely disappointed if it doesn't work out, but I am really enjoying just hitting the snooze and not worrying right now.  Every single day it feels like less pressure and more time, and I am reveling in it.

I know this is a blessing, and I am slightly ashamed that I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.  It feels simultaneously like a lack of faith and good judgement.  I 'm learning to live with it.

Other things I can learn to live with are beginning to disturb me. The kitchen that was clean and empty last weekend is now strewn with debris and we are fixing the cracks in the walls and ceilings.  I have spent almost every night this week pulling off pieces of my walls and ceilings and just flinging them to the floor, where I am not concerned about ever cleaning them up again.  That crap can easily be rolled right up when we remove the carpet, hopefully this coming weekend.  I just pull, scrape, throw, and let the chips fall where they may.  Then I leave them there and I do not care.  This is the first time in my life I have ever done anything like this and I find it lots of fun.  How often do you get this opportunity in life???  How often can you just start tearing on a thread, have it all fall apart, throw it in the floor and not care?  Not often in my life up to this point!  I have scraped knuckles and calloused fingertips, and actually had the thought that I needed a manicure, none of which are like me at all, but there you have it.  This is me, now, apparently.    I just go with the flow, where ever that takes me, and it's working out pretty good.  I guess. One thing about going with the flow is that there is no destination point known to you, which changes everything, really.  This is one lesson I have been grateful to learn.

I'm enjoying being care-free for the first time in many years.  It took me a while to recognize the feeling, so long had it been since I had felt it, but I'm settling in pretty comfortably.  My decision was reinforced last night when I got home after work to find the boys playing their Magic game of cards in the basement, where they had cleared off the table and found seats amongst the furniture piled willy-nilly all around them.  I had to move an empty wicker shelf set to even find them.  One boy was new, and had not noticed that we were remodeling upstairs.  I found this both remarkable and slightly disturbing, but put it down to teenage tunnel vision.  Either way, it looks like we can adapt to just about anything in stride.  

Lots of changes of the permanent variety are happening now.  For the first time in a very long time, I feel like the future holds new things.  Surprises.  Things will be different forever, and they will never be the same again.  We are all getting older, and we are all also getting stronger.

If you are in your 40's or older, and feel like you should start a work out routine, I can highly recommend working on your own house instead.  You will most certainly get a workout but more importantly, you will also never get bored.  Peeling away tape from a crack in your wall all the way to the bare boards has a way of getting your heart rate up that no treadmill can hold a candle to, let me tell you.  Fear of the walls of your house actually cracking all the way through can tax your system more than 100 reps on the most expensive weight machine, no matter how many bells and whistles it is endowed with.  Climbing a ladder 40 times a night will make many more muscles than simply walking for miles, and almost throwing yourself off the top of a ladder?  Because you are about to peel off a stubborn piece of tape/plaster that you've been battling and as God is your witness, you are going to get it off?  It's an adrenaline rush that has only been matched in my own life by having to track down and kill a bat in my own house.

It's also very good for your skin.  I must say that no Biore Strip can compare to the mask of sweat and plaster dust you can achieve just by sanding off mud where holes have been patched in a wall.  Do this above shoulder height for an added whammo for your floppy upper arms, and you've got a winning combination.  If I am not mistaken, this works not only as a mask but also whisks away all those downy hairs that menopause so gloriously, mysteriously and (girlfriends, I tell you) constantly bestows us with right off!  Perhaps forever!  It felt like it was from the roots, but I'll let you know.

Totally up to you, of course, but I believe there is no gym that can really compare to the experience of working on your own house.  At least I can't imagine one, and I would never want to go through these kinds of things in front of strangers.  The bang for your buck is just better served, it seems to me, the way I'm doing it.  For all the aches and pains I feel night and day, I am sitting up straighter, walking more comfortably, and my clothes are fitting more loosely.  I briefly wondered the other day if my feet my finally be shrinking a little, after the 1 1/2 sized gained after pregnancies, but I will have to wait till the swelling goes down to be sure.  My knees protest loudly but bend more than they have in years and even my hips feel less jiggly.  

Not only am I living with all these changes, but I have worked my way up to staying up until midnight and not turning into a zombie.  The first week was shaky, but I think I've got it now.  It's been 10 years since my mother passed, and it feels like the fog of grief has finally burned away and left me with a nice summer day.  I think I've been depressed, hiding, waiting, not caring if things went on because there was nothing I could do about them anyway.  For a girl who always, and I do mean always, grabs the bull of life by the horns, this has been a long time coming.  I can procrastinate with the best of them, it must be said, but when the rubber meets the road I have always been able to count on being in the car, usually driving.  One reason I was able to get out of bed and on with it is because I didn't want my mother to see me this way.  It would not make her proud, it would make her sad, and I could not have that.  I am reassured now, to feel that I've still got it, that I am still me inside here, even if my heart is broken.

Life breaks us all, sooner or later.  Sometimes it takes a while to summon the energy to actively participate, and it is absolutely frightening how easily you can phone it in and the world will let you slide.  My dear Pretend Grandbaby and Bonus Daughter came along right in time.  Without them I don't know how long I would have stayed there, in that quiet place where nothing really happened.  Abigail got me up just by being born, and I thank God for it.  Never underestimate the power of helpless things, for it cannot be measured in reality.

I'm still proud and happy that I never took the pills.  What pills?  The magic pills that are readily and proliferously offered to you for the slightest of complaints from every direction these days, of course, especially if you still watch television!   That all these magic pills can guarantee is profits for lawyers during future lawsuits is something you will also see commercials on.  Even if you only pay attention to these types of commercials for 3 years, you will see evidence of this that cannot possibly be denied.  Think it over.

Maybe you should just get out of bed and discipline yourself and do what God has put in front of you, whether you like it or not.  No whining.  In other words, suck it up, buttercup.  If this sounds like your mother, well, you must have had a good one.  :)  Choose to have a little faith.  That's what I did.  Life will sometimes suck, and that's a fact, and there is nothing to be done about it but just go on.  Choose to go on strong, not by being addicted to some drug or suffering untold side effects for the rest of your life.  No one is perfect, everyone goes through hard times, and the world went on just fine for millions of years without magic pills or lawsuits.  You can, too.    

The boys (who will soon be men) are getting out of their comfortable kid routine.  I am not going to be the one to tell them that their last summer of laying around being lazy kids is in the past, but it is.  They will figure this out soon enough, as they seek jobs in order to pay their own insurance for the 1994 Dodge Caravan.  I'll always be a mother, but my babies are almost 17 years old, and in this house, kids are still considered adults at 18.  Any 18 year old worth their oats is ready for the challenge, anyway, to say the least.

Soon, I will be a grandmother.  This new chapter will happily start with a newly remodeled house, gained by my own hard work, and I am not just talking about work of the physical variety.  With any luck my calloused hands will be soft in time to touch that sweet baby skin.  Oh, the time grows short and I anticipate this new arrival several times every day.  It has been a very long time since I have looked forward to anything, and I cannot imagine anything better than this.

Another chapter of our lives is over forever, and I am pretty sure I 'm the only one who knows it at this point.  But that's okay, I've survived this chapter before.  Twice.  I am ready, and I know that whatever changes continue to come, we will meet them just like we do everything else, no matter how hard they are or how long they take, we will continue forward and do things right, whatever sacrifices that might entail.

Now, back to getting ready to paint.  Still haven't decided on colors.  I've been too busy explaining to the boys that the reason it's taking so long is directly related to the amount of time we all put in.  This is not complicated but what do you expect from boys who don't even mind weaving around through randomly placed furniture everywhere just to find a chair to sit in?  Onward we go, with me praying that nothing worse than the cracks in walls are discovered before we get this done.  I need the rest, and frankly, I've earned it.

This is it!

November 30th

      Thanksgiving at home today with The Rock Star and Rockette, which is what I have dubbed the wondrous girlfriend of my oldest son.  Because she rocks.  Really!  I got up early and got all the stuff out to make bread and noodles.  I got out my sheet, which is the ONLY way to roll out noodles, let me tell you, floured it, got it positioned just so, and then started on the noodles only to realize I was out of eggs.  This is life in menopause.  It's like a combination of ADHD and OCD, for those of you who have grown up with these terms.  For those of you who are older, like me, it's just being constantly distracted by the endless list of stuff that you are under the gun to do by a certain time.  Or, as we grew up the lesson was titled: "Hey, that's life, kid."

     Anyway, a trip to Wal Mart was in order, and while I was there I thought, things like this.

      1.  HEY! Key Lime Pie!!  SOLD!

      2.  WHOA!  Frozen bread!!  Throw it in!!

      3.  OH!  Very expensive flavored coffee creamer!  Y.......No.   Keep moving!  Time is short!

      4.  WAIT!  As long as you're doing frozen bread, why not grab some frozen noodles?  YEAH! (turns cart around, alarms a confused man in front of 47 different varieties of whipped cream.)         And then, the inevitable

      5.  DAMN!!!   OUT OF FROZEN NOODLES!!!!!

      Sigh.  Look of disgust followed quickly by

      6.   GET OUT.  Get. OUT.  Now.

This is a normal trip to Wal Mart for me now.  I've learned to accept it.

The Rock Star and Rockette arrived on time, we had dinner, then he handed me a book.  He asked if I remembered it and of course I did.

He said "I marked my favorite page in it and I want you to read it and see if you remember it."

I was pleased.  I open the book to the page marked.  It is marked with a sonogram picture, and my first thought is "Did I leave that in there?  I wonder which one of the kids this was."

I look at my son, who is standing above me, tall and strong and beautiful, and smiling down with the sweetest smile and his eyes are just...........well, I have never seen that look in those eyes before.  This was brand new.  Tears start pouring out of my eyes and everybody starts laughing and crying and I get up and hug my Rock Star, and then the Rockette, and I am going to be a grandmother, for real, in June.

THIS IS IT!!!!!

Our own Little Rock Star!!!

I am so excited to get to witness them go through this Doorway!

I have lived in fear of missing these moments for years.  I have hoped for this child, dreamed of this child, and many more.  I have waited, practiced, honed my grand-mothering skills and let the house go because I know that the house should never, ever, be your first priority when there are children around.  This is the mark of empty, lonely lives, these houses in perfect shape.

I did not choose that path.  I have never had any regrets in that regard either.  If someone writes on my walls, I'm just going to draw a frame around it and note the date.  That's all I've got to say about that.  I think I may even make a part of a wall into a chalkboard, like that crazy-smart Kelsy figured out how to do. :D

I immediately drug them down the "storage room", where recently, thanks be to God for my ADHD/OCD arrangement, I have been tearing through stuff that's been basically thrown in there and forgotten for 12 years.  I stop and cry and sort and throw away, reorganize, and feel like a woman.  It works, on the rare occasion that it happens.  You have to make the crazy stuff work for the greater good.  Just go with it and don't question your first gut reaction.  In this way you will be ready to pull out at least 2 different sets of china belonging to someone in your family, heirlooms, for the wondrous couple who have given you your first grandchild, to pick from.  Christmas present this year!  And how great is that, as they have just gotten a china cabinet for the adorable little home that the wondrous Rockette has already bought and decorated up at her tender age?

   Next  we pulled out the little chest that my own mother gave me and I have never decided what to put on the front panel.  Now my first grandchild will have it's own little chest.  Inside were blankets from all my babies, and baby clothes from each one.  We had the best time standing in that dusty room full of stuff I have either procrastinated getting rid of or couldn't bear to part with.  Sometimes if you put stuff off long enough you find it right when you need it the most.

     Also?  I still have all my mom's clothes.........which The Rock Star actually has kept me from getting rid of twice, in my more brutal moods.  I'm so glad now, because these will make either quilts or bears for all my grandchildren.  I hope there will be lots.  But I'll take whatever I get and I will not complain, oh no.

    I keep remembering this news every few minutes and it hits me anew each time.  This is just like what it was like when I found out I was pregnant, mentally.  They have already heard the heartbeat and seen this little miracle, and I cried when I heard that story, too.  I am, unsurprisingly, over the moon at this news, but have been warned to keep it off FB for the time being.

     Fine!  So this is what I have done instead.  I will just save this up until I can tell the whole world.  I can do that.

     Meanwhile, OCD kicks in and I have to make lists.  For one thing, I have to map out who is who in these two families that make up The Rock Star and list family names.  That should keep me busy for a while.  Also, I think I will go through all my old pictures and make an album for each of my children, which I have the stuff to do and have been putting off for about 6 years.  But I'm ready, see? Procrastination can save you, sometimes.

      The voices inside my head keep asking "What will it be?"  "What will it be called?"  "What will it call you?" 

      The answer to all of these is a constant "Who cares?  AHAHAHAHAHA!  We're having a baby!!!"

Is Menopause Some Kind of Crazy Cocoon or WHAT?

Last week was really stressful for me. It felt like Chinese water torture, trouble just kept dripping on my forehead until I thought I was going to go crazy.

DRIP

Shadow had jumped up and broken a double paned thermal window in the basement, which I had to get out and take to be fixed.

DRIP
I had a tooth dying and had suffered through that for about 10 days before I could get to the dentist.  Because of the pounding from my dying tooth, I was sleeping with my head so high that my back was starting to give me problems, causing me to take aspirin and antibiotics, when I have this thing about hating to take pills.  I have the best dentist in the world, and he gave me pain meds that worked for both problems beautifully.  The bad news was that I was little slower than usual.  The good news was that I didn't feel like crying or killing anyone.

DRIP
I had a note on my door that I needed to have my gas meter replaced.  And of course I would have to be there when they came.  So the guy who changed it told me I needed to get it cleaned.  It occurred to me that I had not had that done in 11 years.  Thank God my ex-husband's uncle could do it that day, because it turned out the valve that keeps the gas from leaking out was broke and by some miracle my house had not blown up. Yet.  Seriously.  It cost me much less than it is actually worth, but then that cost cannot be calculated.

DRIP
The car had to be inspected and had a bunch of stuff wrong with it and I had been trying to remember to schedule an appointment for that.  I figured it would cost me hundreds of dollars.  I was half right.

DRIP
It's the end of the year and taxes are due.  More hundreds of dollars!

DRIP
Christmas is coming.  Decided I had to spend too many hundreds of dollars and decided to do mostly homemade gifts this year.  HA!  We even got the crappy tree up once again, leaning it into the corner.  Go ahead and fall, Christmas tree.  WE do care, in fact, we designed you fall over this year.  Bring it.

DRIP
We all need to get our eyes examined again.  Etc.  Sigh.

*Melinda looks off into space, wilts in her chair, distantly wishes she still drank.  Tells herself she still could.  Realizes this would mean going upstairs and rooting through her closet for her last hidden bottle of Kahlua, and thinks it not worth the trouble.*

DRIP

I was down, you know?  In fact, I have been down for, like, quite a while now.  I've been sick and tired of being sick and tired.  I started to think that I was going to be like Weezy, in Steel Magnolias.  You know the one who's "been in a very bad mood for 40 years"?  With the big dog?  Who hates the only man who's really in the picture?  Ok, maybe she doesn't hate him, maybe they just have a mutual love of hurling verbal abuse at each other, but by now you remember Weezy, right?  Frankly, I was with this.

DRIP
Then I got on Facebook Saturday night and the friends who were as depressed as me were almost equal to the friends who still wanted to kill somebody.  I did a blog post and cried like a baby and thought that would make me feel better.  It usually does.  But it didn't do the trick this time.

So I sat down after a slowly, emotionally draining period of time (6 weeks, 6 months, 6 years, depending on where you want to start counting.  But that's not the point) and I gave myself a talking to.

If adolescence is the cocoon before we "bloom" into the "butterfly" of full fledged womanhood, what would that make menopause (because it is VERY SIMILAR to adolescence, if I'm remembering correctly) and what comes next?  And while we're at it, will me face EVER stop breaking out?????  Can we just quit worrying about accomplishments after a certain age?  Is figuring out how to make your noodles and custard pie supposed to be a life accomplishment?  Should I have some awards for being able to quiet a fussy baby or help a teenager make a good decision?  Should there be a gold statue awarded for canning tomatoes?  Should I have been awarded big bonuses for going without in order to buy basketball shoes?   Is there actually anything more important in life than these things anyway?  Maybe I'm just supposed to keep being the me I am, but this new, improved version.  Why can't this be the answer?  Girls, brace yourselves and get ready to relax, because I think maybe it is, I really do.

What else are we here for anyway?  We are here to love, and learn, and pass what we learn on.  Our only hope is the hope of future generations.  Our work is right in front of us and has been all along.  We just had to slow down long enough to see it.

So I told myself that I got to decide what my life was going to be from here on out, and while I am extremely happy with some parts, there are other parts that need to be torn down.  I have to rebuild my life into what I want it to be, and I have to pay attention.  Because while I am caught up in my own misery and frantically trying to stop all the drips, in truth the house can blow up at any time.  

I told myself to quit worrying about the world ending so much.  If it does end, there is nothing we can do about it.  Besides, if it does, my troubles will be over!  If it doesn't, I won't go down without a fight and we'll just cross that road when we come to it.  I told myself to quit worrying about Israel getting attacked and be glad instead that at least Israel is a country where they are all on the same side.  I even shut myself up when the person in my head made remarks about how :"nothing would put you on the same side as quickly as having rockets attacking you ceaselessly", and they shut up!

I told myself to be more grateful for the drudgery of my life, because I am healthy and able to take care of myself.  It's part of my job as a mother and a woman.  I vowed that I would view the drudgery of my life as a testament to sacrifice and find a way to enjoy it - even the dishes!  In fact, I have dish soap that smells very wonderful.  I'll just try to hold that thought longer.

Then, because I was stuck in my house supervising teenagers (for the last few years of my life, probably)  I picked up the phone and called some of my friends.  I spend the whole weekend visiting with old friends.  Some are doing great, some not so great, but they are all still here and isn't that all that matters anyway?  These are people that I do not have to explain anything to because they were there.  They already know.  It was so uncomplicated and wonderful!  I even got to know some of my favorite cyber friends even better and was not disappointed.  I realized that I actually know a lot of really great people and they are all around me.  I just have make the time to talk to them once in a while.

I had lunch with a one of my other-mother's (people who are not your physical mother but are your spiritual mother) and she made me feel so relieved when she said "You are just stepping back and finally seeing the big picture.  It's not all about you anymore."  In short, I am officially a grown up.  For real.  I'm coming out of this last cocoon and becoming me again, but improved.  Smarter, more wrinkled, and braver.  It's not a bad trade off, in my humble opinion.

Guess what?  Monday morning I realized when I woke up that I felt happy.  I felt happy!  I felt like me again.  I felt that old effervescent happiness that kept me bubbling along for so long that I took it completely for granted--until it was gone for so long.  I felt hopeful, and I smiled a lot.  Without having to think about it, I mean.  I felt........happy.  I am back!

Now, this could just be a hormone surge or something, but I think it's more.  I think that sometimes we get in a place where God kind of makes us slow down and pay attention. We will try to keep going but the drips just keep piling up until He gets our full attention. Sometimes, when your back is about to go out, you realize how grateful you should be for just getting up and moving without thinking about it.  Sometimes you just have to make some decisions, even though you don't want to.  I was lucky in that I got to do a lot of this in my fluffy wonderful bed with a sweet dog or two beside me.  If it turns out to be nothing more than a hormonal surge, I will not forget the lesson and I will still be grateful I had it.

We are supposed to tell our troubles to God and then leave them with him.  The "leaving them with him" part is hard, no?  I have struggled with this for a long time, but it's time to take the next step.  I'm taking this bull by the horns, turning this train around, and getting my house in order.  I really mean it this time.  Anybody who doesn't like that can find another train.  This time I"m laughing instead of crying when I blog!  Why?  Because I'm happy.  Such a simple thing that I have missed for so long.

I just needed to realize that I have everything I need, nothing is perfect, and everything is still fine.

Just in case you needed a reminder, because sometimes we do.  I did.

I don't know what I'm supposed to be next, but I'm going to be the best whatever it is that I can, and I'm going to be more grateful.  I'm going to take more time and go more slowly, and I'm not going to worry about meeting a schedule.  I'm going to keep an open mind and see what God wants me there at that moment for, and act accordingly, from my heart.  I'm going to speak my mind respectfully, but I'm not going to spend time on people who do not cherish me, because there are simply too many who do.  I'm going to let more people figure stuff out on their own because that's the only way we ever figure anything out for good.  There will be less whining from here on out, both from me and at me.  There will be more laughter, both from me and at me, too.

Instead of missing people who are gone from this earth, I'm going to picture my life as a soap opera in Heaven, and live my life in a way that will make them proud and hopefully make them laugh.  We could all use more comic relief, don't you think?

I'm going to be happy and I'm going to be what I'm going to be and that's it.

I'm simply not going to worry about it, anymore.

Strange Days Indeed....

Going through menopause is very strange.  I don't even know who I will be from one day to the next.  My temper is liable to come awake in an instant, and things fly out of my mouth that surprise and appall me daily. For instance, the other day I saw a man old enough to be my father walk in from the shop where I work without safety glasses and before I could even think, my mouth opened and I said "What are you doing out there without safety glasses, boy?"  Yes.  I said that. I was immediately embarrassed and the person inside my head said "I can NOT believe you just said that.  Have you lost your mind?"    He looked at me like he was in trouble, and so appalled was I that I then felt compelled to explain how dangerous it was.  As if he didn't know that.  As if he wanted to hear stories of people with splinters of metal in their eyes.  He took it pretty well, and I consoled myself with the fact that his own mother would have said the same thing.  It all happened before I could even think, and thinking is not my strong suite these days, if you know what I mean.

After years of raising kids and keeping to one schedule or another, I find myself uncertain what to do if I have a choice now. Often I just do nothing.   

For so many years I didn't have a choice.  I got used to cooking, cleaning, reading books for the twenty-seventh thousand time.   I got used to going to sleep at the same time every night and sleeping soundly.  In fact, so much did I enjoy simply having time that I did not have to be doing some chore that even if I couldn't sleep occasionally it was all right, because my bed had become my refuge.  I am such a reader that should I become bed-ridden it would not bother me too much as long as I had books.  Let the world stop turning, as long as I had books to read I would be fine.

Lately I have found myself unable to sleep.  This has thrown me for a loop and turned me into the female incarnation of a grizzly bear, much to my chagrin.  I called an older friend of mine and told her what I was going through, then asked the most important question, "Will I change back or is this permanent?"

"It doesn't last that long.  You will be yourself again", she replied. I was so relieved.  She also told me to get some Melatonin, which you can buy over the counter and will help promote sleep.  I lost no time, believe me, and plan to take my first one tonight.

I have been dealing with the listless, apathetic feeling for so long that I was getting used to it, as long as I could still sleep.  Take away my sleep, though, and we have no deal  Who is we?  Beats me.  Me and God, me and society, me and life, take your pick.

So I really was not expecting an energy surge, but I got one.  Last night I got off work and took the boys out for supper.  Once we got home, instead of laying on the couch as is my usual routine these days, I gave both dogs a bath and cleaned the carpets upstairs.  This was like some kind of miracle alone, but just wait!  

Today when I got up I took Shadow to the vet by 8 am.  She was really impressed that she got to go anywhere without Jack.  This was the first time they have ever been parted.  It did not bother her one bit.  She pranced around like the lady I know she is and behaved herself very well.  She has an ear infection that cost me $60 but it was worth every penny just to see her strutting around like she was the queen of the world. 

I spent the rest of the morning, I kid you not, going to two different grocery stores, cleaning out the garage, and taking all the bedding I can't fit into my own machine to the laundry mat.  The boys, who have already learned not to let things fly out of their mouths, just gave me odd, slanted looks that clearly said "What has gotten into you?  Why are you doing all this stuff?  Don't you want to lay down for a little while?"

I was impressed and baffled at the same time, wondering what in the world had gotten into me, when all of a sudden the voice inside my head said "Hold on!  I remember this!!  I used to be this way!  When I was young!"

As always, the voice inside my head was correct.  I used to be whirlwind of a cleaning and organizing machine, I tell you.  In fact, I was that way until probably the age of 40.  Then, there was nothing I could now do.  It did not matter what broke, fell apart or got lost, I could fix it!  As I got older I told myself that slowing down was just growing up.  After all, when you think you can do anything you find you are often wrong.  I told myself I had just learned not to jump into things without looking, but this turns out not to be true.  Well, it's true, of course, we all learn as we go, but I was ignoring the one obvious answer:  HORMONES.  

If you are a woman, hormones, or the lack of them, rule your life.  I know how helpless that makes you feel, but take it from one who knows.  Just accept it and try to move on.  How I could miss such an easy answer is beyond me, but there it is.  I can remember thinking when the kids were small that when they grew up I would...........fill in the blank.  I had plans, you see.  Plans for the me I was then.  Along the way I forgot what those plans were and then I just didn't care anymore.  I put my foolish dreams away, or so I thought.  I can't say what those foolish dreams were now, but I'm sure if I looked in my old journals I could find out.  Not that I really care anymore, but just for kicks and grins.

So now I get up every day not knowing what will happen or what I will do or not do.  It's a surprise!  I was never very good with surprises but I think I am getting better.  Instead of thinking I know what will happen I just fly by the seat of my pants, which is pretty much what got me through my younger life.  Some days I am again the whirlwind of yesteryear, and some days I am a lump of frustrated apathy.  I just try to take it all in stride.  What else can I do?  What else, indeed.  The poor boys don't know what I will or won't do from day to day either.  That's OK.  They are teenagers and as far as I am concerned it only works in my favor.    They certainly have started listening to what I say again, if only out of their instincts for self-preservation.  I'll take it.  All in all I think we are all handling it pretty well.

And as for things flying out of my mouth?  Donut holes.  Pop one of those babies in and we are good to go.

I am bad at this....

I have fallen down on the blogging again. Sorry to anyone who cares.  I just seem to feel that I should have something to actually say.  Which is silly.  I almost always have something to say, so here are my thoughts in case anybody cares.

I read a cute little sign today that said Middle Age: when you get your head together and your body starts falling apart.

I think that was a true and brilliant sign.  My body is still holding together but the wrinkles are starting to get me down.  So I started using a rich emollient night cream.  I had noticed no difference in the wrinkles when I had to  suffer through large, below the skin pimples. The kind that hurt all the time and stay forever, are you familiar?  Presumably from all the rich emollients, but there is not way to really pin it down.  

After about a week of having at least one large, below the skin pimple throb in rhythm with my heartbeat every time I so much as leaned over, I gave up on the night cream, questioning God on why I am still plagued by an adolescent's burdens.

This set me up perfectly for the Home Shopping Channel to show me some kind of machine that 'stimulates' your skin and apparently freezes it to make you look about 20 years younger.  OR at least as many years ago as you didn't have wrinkles, I guess it would depend on your age.  The demonstration was both miraculous and mesmerizing.  I can only hope is isn't actually some kind of machine that will shock my muscles into paralysis.  But even if it is and it works like it did on television I think I may still be very very happy.  At least about my appearance.

Anyway, it was a very reasonable price, so I picked up the phone, which if you have ever called them before, you already know that all you have to do after that is keep pressing 1 and presto zingo, your treasure is on it's way to your door.  There is no time for deciding or questioning your impulse.  This is the American way, although you can always get your money back with HSN.  I will not list the hoops you have to jump through, and I hope you never have to find out.  Just don't throw anything away and you will probably be fine.

Now all I have to do is live with the dread of spending even a very reasonable amount of money on something that may or may not work but at the very least may stop me from spending time or energy on the horrible pimples.  I mean really, people, I am fricking 47 now.  Still with the pimples?  I have to wonder if they are not some kind of sign from God that I am doing something wrong.  Or maybe a punishment from something I did when I was 14.  There must be a reason.  If I only knew what it was I would certainly fall into line, but no, I just wander around hoping nobody else can see very well anymore either.  And honestly, considering where I go and the people who are at those places, the odds are VERY GOOD that they can't see anymore either.  I always did hang out with people who were older than me, and all can do is congratulate myself on that.  Good on you, girl!  You have a very good seat to see what's coming attcha and at least some information on what you can possibly do about it!!

This is my comfort.  If it comforts you also, you should stay home all the time and then when you do go out only hang out with people who are older than you are.  We have to take our comforts where we find them, and I am telling you that you could do a lot worse.  You could probably do a lot better too, and if so I only wish you would contact me immediately.

I read a book about a woman the other day who was going through a stage where "she didn't feel like a mother, a writer (her job), or even much of a woman", these days, and I thought "Hmmm.  Other people feel this way too."  At least one other person, in this case Joyce Carol Oates, but it was just so good to know that SOMEBODY else had been where I seem to be at.  For the lady in the book this meant big changes.  I can only hope it portends the same thing for me.  One big help would be for me to be able to drag up any desire to do anything.  Yesterday I didn't really even eat anything.  It's like I'm languishing.  Remember Charlotte's web?  I always thought 'languishing' sounded so relaxing, and I can't say it's not.  It is a little scary to my head, but every other part of me just can't bring themselves to care enough to get up.  Perhaps Geritol is the answer I seek.  Do they still make Geritol? 

Will I care if they don't?  

I DOUBT IT!

Until then I will be awaiting the arrival of the miracle machine from HSN ( but not anxiously, because I just don't care that much).  After that I may be euphoric and re-charged (who am I kidding here?  Me or you?), or in a rage to get my money back and kicking myself in the butt for buying into the BS again (much more likely.  If you are a betting person, the odds are good here).

It could go either way, but probably both of these things will happen in exactly this order (truth).

The bright note of the week was when I tried to explain to some college student why it was not a good idea to raise the minimum wage again.  I asked him where he went to school but I should have just asked for his mother's phone number. Because whose fault would that really be?  The school's?  No.  Ultimately it is the parent's responsibility and all this finger pointing going on in this country is about to make me go postal.  Where are all the adults??  You may ask.  I can't help but think we are all wondering.

He backed away quickly in any case.  No doubt on a community organizing event, organized by his college, or "school", on the taxpayer's dime.   Sigh.......

Oh, and I had to laugh the other day at what 'scientists' have now termed "care-giver fatigue".  This is a 'syndrome' in which you become exhausted from caring for children and/or older parents, especially if you have both.  This is what we used to call 'life', of course, but now that they have made it a 'syndrome' no doubt drugs and therapy programs will follow.  Just cannot wait to see what they do with this.  Be warned, and stay sane, ladies and gentleman.  When they come to you, and you know they will, probably catching you by some random question on the questionnaire to get in to see the doctor, be ready to laugh in their faces and shout Poppycock!  Tell them that you are blessed to have so many people who love you and that taking care of them, while, yes, exhausting, is also the reason you are on this earth.  Tell them that to have someone else fulfill these 'obligations' would be a betrayal of the care these same people have given, or will give, to you, and you would not have it any other way.  Then question why they think the Dr., or the government (not much difference anymore) would even get involved in that.  THEN tell them the government may find more success if they stick to the defense of this nation and the highways.  If they can do that right that would be more than enough.  Really.  Be a responsible adult in charge.  It's a new concept I'm trying to get off the ground.  OK, it's an old concept.  Old as the world, actually, but to these kids now it's new again.  Carry the flag, pass the baton, give these kids some kind of security that there are adults in charge.  Please?

Another bright note is that in Missouri we are now into the normal mowing season.  I only mention this because we were forced to start mowing in March this year, as opposed to the more normal May, and this caused quite a lot of consternation on how to mow the grass but keep the flowers yet to bloom undisturbed. 

Of such small problems may all of your lives be made up of, until next time!

No Doubts Remain

There is no longer any doubt in my mind that I am going through the big M.  At least not after this past week.  Now, I have a lot on my plate and with the world in the state it's in, I am under a lot of stress and have been for quite some time, but get a load of this:


Saturday morning I woke up with nothing pressing to do, made coffee, realized I would have several hours before the kids woke up, and took my coffee back to bed to watch the news.  This is all normal except for the astounding fact that we had no pressing plans for the day, or even the weekend.  That almost never happens and normally would make me so HAPPY.  Normally.  But not Saturday.

After I watched the so-called "news" for a few minutes I found myself sobbing uncontrollably.  No, not from anything on the news.  They were talking about that joke Wiener, for Heaven's sake.  If anything, that should have made me laugh!  Not just at his name, which is no fault of his own, but from his pathetic and slimy defense of him "self"  (BAHAHAHHA, see? I am laughing NOW!)  I turned the news off and continued to sob uncontrollably. 

I searched my mind, racked it, to be honest, and could come up with no reason why I would be so sad.  I has a long conversation with the person inside my head.  It went something like this:

Person inside my head:  "What the hell is WRONG with you?"

Me: "I don't knooowwww!"

Person inside my head: "Is it the mystery rash that half of the Grand Finale has that no Dr. can seem to figure out?"

Me: "That is bad.  But no."

Person inside my head: "What about the fact that your ac unit is about 50 years old and seems to be running all the time, costing you untold hundreds of dollars?"

Me: "Sigh.  That is bad too, but no, I am not this upset about that."

Person inside my head: "The leak in the car that you don't know about?"

Me: "No, my car guy can fix that, I'm sure."

Person inside my head: "How about the cavity you are going to have to get fixed?  And have you made an appointment yet?"

Me: "NO and NO!  Leave me alone!"

Person inside my head: " Let's get real here, honey.  I think it 's menopause.  Like, for sure."

Me:........................................................"I think that could be it"

Person inside my head: " You obviously need to cry. You will feel better after.  Let 'er rip"

Me: "Yes.  You are right.  This will pass!  I'll just let it run it's course.  At least nobody is up to witness it."

This did nothing to stop the sobbing, even though by then I was feeling foolish inside despite it.  But the tears just continued to roll out.  It wouldn't stop, so I just grabbed a box of Kleenex and settled down to let this fit play itself out.  I always feel better after a good cry and in the past have been reduced to finding Terms of Endearment just to get worked up into one.  Those days are over for awhile, methinks. 


I am laying in bed crying and waiting to stop, and it continued right up until the phone rang unexpectedly.    The phone beside my bed is the old kind that is actually attached to the wall, and does not have caller ID.  To answer the phone or not to answer the phone, that was the question.  Without the caller ID I didn't know who it was and didn't want to alarm anyone I knew.  On the other hand, if it was a telemarketer this might get me off their list for good.  I answered it.


The youthful voice of the boy who mows my lawn asked without preamble "Hey, can I mow your yard this morning?"  and I answered with a joyful "Yes!".  Joyful, I tell you!  The tears were gone and keeping the tears out of your voice is standard procedure when you are mother who doesn't want to upset the "kids", so I am pretty sure I sounded normal.  At any rate, he didn't seem to notice.


As simply as that, the crying jag was over and I was on a mission to get the yard picked up, the dogs brought in, and the gates open so he could come and mow.  And I was, if not happy, at least perfectly fine and normal and felt like myself, except for being disturbed at the thought that I may or may not be actually losing my mind.  Thank God for menopause to fall back on.  It's like the ultimate excuse and explanation for whatever is ailing me these days.

I have no earthly explanation for this, but in talking to some of my older friends, they all say that yes, this is perfectly normal and will not pass for a while.  One woman even told me that she is pretty sure she ended a long marriage over that because she didn't realize that THAT was what it was.  THAT being menopause.  She just got to a point where she did. not. care. anymore.  Then she shrugged and said "Oh, well" and laughed. I guess everything turned out all right after all.

 "Oh well" was one of my mother's catch phrases.  She used it in different tones for different occasions, but it always meant the same thing:  "Nothing we can do about it now.  Life will go on and we will just have to do the best we can."

I took it as a God wink.

Also, I think I had my first long awaited hot flash.  It wasn't very long, and it certainly did not go all the way down to my feet, where it would be greatly appreciated (oh, well!) but I definitely got hot all through my chest and shoulders.  It was both anti climatic and reassuring.  Anti climatic because I was expecting it to be much worse, reassuring because I don't have to wonder if I may be losing my mind when I sob uncontrollably for no discernable reason.

That is the good news.  The bad news is that there isn't really anything you can take that is safe.  Also, word on the street is that the Dr., should you risk going to one, will recommend an anti-depressant. Or a different one, if you are one of the few remaining people who are not already on one.

 I remain firmly convinced that this is their plan for world domination, anti-depressants, that is. Who "they" are remains unclear, but I figure the insurance companies are in on it.   I must say it's a pretty good plan, as almost everyone is on one now, and much earlier than menopause!! Ever since early 90's they have been handing those things out like candy.  I do not know that they care if you actually take them, but they certainly want you to come back for more. For all I know there is a black market out there where you can trade your anti-depressants for food.

Not to make light of taking one if they do, indeed, help you, but come on.  The world ran just fine without them for millions of years and now suddenly everybody "needs" this?  I don't buy it.  I am stubborn like that.

I continue to hold out, although I did try one for a couple of weeks with no change except wanting to sleep all the time.  The one I tried didn't even have too many bad side effects, but why is "depression" always a side effect for something that is supposed to make you ANTI-depressed? Is that not a logical question?

I think the answer is that as long as your insurance will cover it (and it WILL, babe) we are going to keep you on it unless, of course, you actually kill yourself.  I suppose that COULD be the person inside my head talking, but they make a lot more sense than I do these days.

For my part, I will go on unmedicated (but perhaps extremely emotional),  unreasonable (but steadfast), and with my eyes open (even in the dark where I cannot see a thing anymore).  

Apologies in advance if I seem to be having a nervous breakdown in the grocery store.  It will pass.  Please do not be kind to me, as this just makes it worse and go on for longer.  Just ignore me.  From all accounts, women in my age group feel that they are not "seen".  This is just fine by me.  They say I will get tired of it, but I always was a sucker for being anonymous.  It's one of the few thrills you can get in a small town.

You MIGHT be going through menopause IF.......

IF

....You spend most of your days trying to focus on "important" things, but can no longer remember what they are,

You MIGHT be going through menopause.

IF

...You can't sleep through the night anymore, but frequently drop off when trying to pay attention to "important" things,

You MIGHT be going through menopause.

IF

...You brush your hand lightly along your porch rail and  instead of getting a splinter, the tiny piece of wood gives you a long scratch that bleeds,

You MIGHT be going through menopause.

IF

...You cry uncontrollably for two days and a night when someone you only knew slightly but you saw them every day and you cannot for the life of you figure out why this has hit you so hard, let alone how to explain it to the poor confused man who shares your life,

You MIGHT be going through menopause.

IF

...You see some teenager with her boobs flopping around exposed, pushing a baby carriage with a newborn in it up to the park at 9:45 pm and are (almost----SO FAR!!!) completely taken over by an urge to stop your car, slap the girl, and steal the baby,

You MIGHT be going through menopause.  *OR, you might just be a good person.  I'm cloudy on this one myself and have had these urges WAY longer than I thought I might be going through menopause.

IF

...You keep candy around and sneak around to eat it and then carefully hide the trash, and THEN lie to your kids about having it,

You MIGHT be going through menopause.

IF

...You spend your days looking for stuff you believe you have lost, only to get side-tracked by cleaning out a drawer that has needed cleaning for the last----9 years or so, and end up only looking through your baby book,

You MIGHT be going through menopause.

IF

...You often fantasize about being a superhero with the power to seal people's mouths shut,

You MIGHT be going through menopause.

IF

...You openly talk to yourself out loud, and instead of being embarrassed when someone else hears you, you give the old evil eye, as if YOU are offended that they are eavesdropping on your conversation,

You MIGHT be going through menopause. 

*and then you can't remember where you were in your "conversation".

IF

...after years or decades, of politely turning away Jehovah's witnesses and those poor lost souls who only want to clean your carpets for free, and NOW you just slam the door right in their faces,

You MIGHT be going through menopause.

I even waved on a kid I knew selling "magazines" the other day.  I think all they do is get your information and sell it another 5500 times.  But that could just be me.  In any case, the chances that I will ever want to spend money on trash to throw away are very, very slim indeed.  Give it up, public schools everywhere or deal with us menopausal women who are in no mood.  Your choice.  Consider yourselves warned there, too.

I am still looking forward to the hot flashes, despite being warned by wise women to be careful what I wish for.  I have not experienced night sweats, as of yet.

On the other hand, my skin is completely different, always scratched or bruised but it won't tan anymore. 

I am oddly empty of tears most of the time these days, except for the days I can't stop them from coming, and then I am hard pressed to find a reason for them!  Usually this happens after a young girl has cried for what I consider no reason and am mystified that they could be so emotional.  I think God does this to me on purpose, for obvious reasons.  How quickly we forget!

I find it hard to sit through the parts of the news that don't interest me or depress me too much to stick around for the weather report.  I hesitate to mention that I rail against meteorologists who get it wrong, but I used to.  Now I only watch the amazing Katie Horner, who is kind enough to cover our area even though it is 250 miles away from her, and is extremely accurate.  Word.  Channel 5 Kansas City.

I sit down to watch a movie with my kids and I end up asleep.  They don't even mention it anymore and often I wake up to find them gone and the movie still playing.  This is the exact situation, reversed, in which I used to leave them once they went to sleep for a nap.  I find the irony comforting.  I am reaping what I have sown.

I verbally abuse drivers who do not use their blinkers.  WHAT IS SO HARD ABOUT THAT ANYWAY??!!!  I mean, the turn signal is about the ONLY thing they have never changed the position OR the mechanics of in my whole life.  There is just no good excuse for it and people should be more self aware, otherwise they *may* get rammed for their own good one of these days.  I try to hold off but even I give in to temptation sometimes.  And folks, I am getting more unpredictable.  Consider yourselves warned.

The thing that is working for me, and take this advice at your own risk, is keeping my mouth full.  That way I am less likely to speak.  This was advice given to me by another woman who had been down this road already.  It was solid gold, if you don't mind wearing elastic waisted pants.  I am getting there.

I am currently down to three pairs of jeans that "fit" me, but I haven't totally gone "street rat crazy" on anybody. 
*Lately. 
**Not counting that telemarketer from India who I enraged enough by asking him if he believed in Jesus to make him call me approximately 47 more times whispering Allllllllllaaaahhhhhhh.  Not a good move, if you value a telephone that doesn't ring unless it's a legitimate call.  But strangely emotionally satisfying to know that finally YOU are under THEIR skin.  Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.  (Throws back head and laughs a long, satisfied laugh).

Living, still leaning, and still trying to keep my mouth mostly shut.  Or at least full of candy.

Also, interested in finding a cute little NO SOLICITING sign to save the innocent from the long walk up my driveway.

Girl Talk

Conversation between two adult women, both disgusted, one peri-menopausal (me):

Me:  Do you think any adult woman looks at any man as anything other than a child?

Other woman, after significant pause:  "Mormon's"

Hysterical laughter from both of us.

Make of that whatever you will, just don't take it too seriously.  It was just "girl talk" and I would be bereft without it.