For the Birds…I mean Girls…I mean Me

Oy vey and vey vey!

What is happening to me?

I mean what the world is happening to my body?

Wasn’t puberty bad enough?

Can’t we live through that and nothing more?

I am way out of whack!

Yup. I’m complaining.

I can’t remember how many times I’ve put on and taken off my sweater today! Why? Because I’ve done it tons.

Why?

Because my body can’t make up its mind about the temperature it wants to be.

One minute I’m cold, the next I’m hot then I’m burning up. I hear this is called a ‘hot flash’.

And the tired-ness-es. Oh just take me now…to bed for nookie sleep. I am so tired I feel like exhaustion is my middle name. Raising my arm to brush a hair out of my eye is equivalent to climbing a mountain!

T.I.R.E.D.

That’s me. I want to sit. I want to rest. I want sleep!

But I want to awaken refreshed, not sweaty. I want to wake up feeling rested not like my body is made of bricks. Wet bricks.

Top it all off, and this is a doozy!, I looked at my daughter and couldn’t remember her name. My own daughter’s name! I did eventually remember her name but trying to actually speak it was crazy. It was like I had a mouth full of molasses and my tongue was swollen twice it’s size.

Then there is the lovely depression.

Now that is a joy.

*dripping sarcasm*

That is visiting me with well…my ‘visits’. Which are now coming as they will.

I think.

If I don’t write it down, I certainly can’t remember.

Now they say this is all par for the course.

But I don’t like golf.

Ok I’ve actually never played. Unless you count mini-golf and I do like that. But I don’t always make par.

I am told this is all ‘normal’.

Uhhh…when did I ever say I wanted to be normal?

I’ve strived to NOT be normal my whole life.

I survived puberty and high school and college and rotten potatoes.

Literally, we came home from vacation and looked EVERYWHERE for the animal that HAD to have died while we gone. The house was a horror of smell! The smell of DEATH! I have a strong gag reflex, but that smell put it to the test! Eventually we found it and there was no animal. It was the rottenest of rotten potatoes ever! A sess pool on my kitchen floor. Oh! It was bad. I would not wish that on my worst enemy.

And now with this ‘new-ness’ to my age life, my gag reflex is also weakening.

I digress…

Point is, I’ve survived so much already. Isn’t there any way to skip this thing called menopause?

Any?

Are you sure?

Please check again.

I can pay you next week to make it go away…

No?

Erg and Flerg!

Blast!

I’m gonna have to learn how to live through this too huh. Ok…I guess I can do it.

But for the record, menopause is for the birds!

And apparently I just sprouted wings…

Jus sayin.

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About Sheila's Thinkerings

Happily married wife, happily mommied mom. I am far from perfect but I don't mind. Also I am a wee bit crazy, it's true. Just ask anyone who's ever met me...
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2 Responses to For the Birds…I mean Girls…I mean Me

  1. Andrea says:

    Oh girl–i am with you–WHAT is going on! My mood swings are RIDICULOUS! And instantly hot–and–I’ve talked to friends–REAL hot flashes are HORRIBLE–I mean–just like you are going to DIE–instantly! Ugh! Why–it’s so unfair!! Actually–I think about all this change and who I’m MOST concerned about are my kids and husband–poor innocent by-standers. I was thinking of writing a book–

    • Sheila's Thinkerings says:

      Oh the mood swings…I forgot to mention those…because seems forgetting is the flavor of this month. Ugh!

      Our families love us very much and when this is over I owe them a trip to Disneyland!

      Go for the book! I’ll buy the first copy!

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