family

Am I just not a good parent?

/ autumncircles / 4 Comments

I don’t know if it’s the holidays and my uber-high expectations of what they should be for a family, or if it is the impending financial doom my overworked and under nourished brain keep telling me I am headed for each time I swipe my debit card for yet ONE MORE gift.  Or maybe I am just not a nice person to start with and so when this viral negativity scene begins invading my body on a cellular level – how am I supposed to be able to handle two kids under the age of ten who have absolutely no interest in actually choosing gifts for others that I cannot possibly know what the perfect present may be in a cluster-f^@ked crowded store the Sunday before Christmas?

Clearly, I am not thinking clearly.

Does anyone with two kids, a tight family budget, 40-hour a week job that swing shifts on occasion with her spouse’s and little or no outlet for cranial pressure?

I do not want to be a whiner – one of those people who is not grateful for all the freaking blessings they have but there is little doubt that is exactly what I sound like!

I am re-meeting a great number of friends from my wild and theatrical times as well as those dating back to pre-high school and I have begun the ancient human tradition of comparing my life to what I perceive to be theirs.  Some are living fantastically bohemian lives in the greatest city on earth.  Others are taking fabulous trips to far away lands communing with the most awesome of nature’s creatures.  Mostly I am not really seeing anyone else in the death grips of parenting peril that I seem to have cornered myself into.  Even my own spouse and best friend are embarking on new musical journeys that are extremely promising given their individual and combined talents.

And here I sit – a’wallowing in a made-up mire of mayhem and monstrous envy writing a blog after getting so angry at my children’s apparent lack of adulthood that I threatened to return every gift I had purchased for them and email Santa to do the same.  Not exactly Donna Reed or Claire Huxtable, huh?  Probably closer to Joan Crawford or Norman’s mom…

And there are still three shopping days left…(play sound clip now … )

Phases of menopause?

/ autumncircles / Leave a comment

I’ve read what the clinical stages of menopause are – perimenopausal, premenopausal, menopausal, and post menopausal.  When this happens naturally for a woman varies based upon when she started her first menstrual cycle or based upon when her mother went through it.

For me, it’s unknown.  My mother had her hysterectomy at age 41 due to a rather large benign cyst that overtook her uterus.  They recommended taking everything – ovaries and all, so she did.  She was immediately went through physical menopause as they adjusted her artificial hormone replacement therapy.

No one thought to ask her mother when she went through menopause before she died at the age 82.

I had my hysterectomy last year – less than ten days before my 40th birthday.  Long story behind it, but I also had two other surgeries at the same time to repair some damage from having children.  The doctor recommended that I keep my ovaries and I did.  He assured me that this surgery would not trigger menopause and has run blood work that seems to indicate that my hormone levels are fine.

Then why the hot flashes?  Night sweats?  Super-inhuman mood swings?  Either total insomnia or nearly falling asleep in the restroom stall at work when I get a few moments to myself? And other symptoms that are unexplainable and remind me of being pregnant again?  Severe lower back pain?  Charlie horses in my calves?  Tender breasts?

WTF?!

Clinical stages verified by specific blood work results my ass!  Keeping your ovaries a sure-fire way to avoid early menopause due to a hysterectomy – bite me!

Let’s not forget the rage against the machinations of my own brain.  And the lingering ache from one of my surgeries that does not seem to want to go away.  And the entirely new way I had to learn to pee from the other one.

TMI?  Maybe, but dump all of that in a blender, pour in a dose of children being angry for not taking them out to dinner on a Friday night, a handful or two of happy Christmas versus new air conditioner, drop in some chopped up pieces of whatever the dog has chewed up today and pack in some not-so-random emotional angst until full.  Sprinkle with overflowing laundry, dishes, unscooped poop, and any minor misstep made from throughout the day.  Flip the switch to liquefy and let run from 6 a.m. to about 10 p.m. and if it hasn’t blown itself to bits by then, transfer contents to air tight ziploc bag and hide in the deep freeze until there is a free day to thaw it out and pour down the drain.

Or buy yourself a great handbag on e-bay that you neither need or can afford.

It is my currently preferred form of HRT – Handbag Replacement Therapy.

As for whether or not I’m actually in a phase of menopause – I wonder how many HRTs it will take before I am sure?

What does “cool” really mean?

/ autumncircles / 1 Comment

I’ve looked it up and it is officially an adjective ranging from the obvious of “moderately cold” to “calm” and “under control” to “disinterested” and “unaffected by emotions”.  It makes a slang reference to meaning being “socially adept” and “highly clever.”

Most of us cannot define cool into words such as these – we just know “cool” when we see “cool.”  For example, Matt Damon in the Bourne movie series, walking around all brooding and mysterious – COOL.  A guy throwing shoes at our President – not cool, even if you didn’t vote for the man or cannot wait until the new President’s inauguration day.  Michael Phelps winning eight gold medals in one Olympics – awesomely cool, whereas the previous record holder, Mark Spitz, not even showing up to congratulate or cheer him on – unequivocally not.   Parachute pants and black checkered vans in 1980ish- very cool.  Try wearing the same thing today and it would very UNcool.  Ed Hardy t-shirts or perfume – cool; Ed Hardy purses – not so much.  Linus’ speech in A Charlie Brown Christmas is sincerely cool in a sentimental way.  TV preachers hacking their wares heavily in order to make their mansions larger off true believers, wretchedly opposite of cool.

I’ve always attributed the word to something deeply existential within that cannot be specifically delineated into a tried and true formula for determination.  It is a either cool or it is not.

As far as my generation is concerned, the word can no longer be classified as slang.  It is part of our vocabulary when describing almost anything or even for simple interactions between folks.

“Wow – that’s a cool car,” the mother of two said as she walked past a Mini Cooper convertible.

“I’m going to order pizza tonight – cool with you?”

“Hey, please don’t take my kid’s bike – that’s uncool!”

The trick tends to be that in most cases, one needs to be cool in order to differentiate cool.

I’ve always wanted to be cool.  I have had times in my life where I think I’ve come to the precipice of cool and almost crossed into it for a time being.  Unfortunately, something usually snaps in my psyche and I lose all ability to allow myself the misconceived honor of being cool.

Believe it or not, I do feel as though I am getting closer to this mercurial veil of comfort in my own skin the older I get.  I am intimidated less, not nearly as afraid as I was even as recently as a few years ago and I find myself worthy to wear a leopard print faux fur coat even if someone laughed at me while I was wearing it.  I don’t care – I find it to be wonderfully cool.  I love writing haikus and know that if Bascho’s spirit is wandering around somewhere, he would declare them ultimately cool concise flashes to whisper inward expressions.

My whole point to today’s blog is that I am still unable, in some areas of my life, to adequately know whether or not I am “cool” or down right “goofy.”  In many cases, I still check with my friend and fashion expert (IMO) on what I can and cannot wear together as an ensemble.  I give my kids’ teachers space so as not to appear like I’m one of “those kinds of parents.”  And I am not able to respond if someone by chance asks me if “I’m cool” with something if the question’s base resides in one of the few remaining areas of anxiety for my brain.  I might be “okay” without reaching the same level of “enthusiasm” that someone else might.  But does that serve as an equal to “being cool?”

This is the question that has haunted me today and nearly brought me to my proverbial knees…fun, huh?

P.S.  Blogging on the human condition with an honest attempt to connect with others and include a bit of humor – hopefully cool.  Unable to answer a simple question without taking the entire day to ponder it and then end up vaguely responding under a pseudonym in a blog read by about three people tops – not necessarily.