My dear Erma Bombeck said it best: “I’m trying very hard to understand this generation. They have adjusted the timetable for childbearing so that menopause and teaching a sixteen-year-old how to drive a car will occur in the same week.” While hot flashes are flaring all over the place (mainly wherever I am standing at the time I am standing there,) I am surrounded by men ranging from nearly fifty to nearly seventeen years old. Needless to say, my patience is in a very delicate state these days…
To say that I have been moody is an understatement. Thankfully, I am aware of this and I am fighting the moodiness as much as I can. I will be the first one to admit to being in the middle of a hot flash and the first one to apologize because I’m being unnecessarily acerbic. If I’d never been able to command fear before, now I can at least command a certain degree of caution as people approach me. Oh, the power…the infinite power.
Of course, my patience is rather sketchy these days and the one who most needs my patience is the one who cannot understand the concept of a hot flash. Happy days! So I’ve snapped at J unnecessarily several times and my “NO!” has been more strident than it has to be…I am floating in a puddle of guilt right now.
What am I to do? Well…right now I’m going to recruit my darling boy’s assistance in the kitchen so we can prepare a cheese flan that will come in handy later. Tomorrow is psychiatrist day…I still have notes to jot down, paperwork to organize… Today I am the one having behavioral problems, and I don’t own boxing gloves or a Slinky.
So that’s what’s going on here. J is being a darling, but I am being a tremendous hormonal bitch. In the midst of all this, bless him, he allowed me to teach him how to use nail clippers and he’s trimmed his fingernails quite well. He’s also washed, dried, sorted, folded and put away six loads of laundry. We ran, did our first batch of exercises and danced to TWO Katy Perry songs. Today I feel too old for all this. Sigh…
I have to go now…there’s a bag of frozen lima beans that my chest is requesting to make contact with right now. Since I already moved all the furniture I could think of to keep the energy being burned (J’s and my own,) now I’m pretty much forced to sit and ride out the power surges that the good Lord has designated for women my age.
He DOES have a sense of humor…indeed!