A Padded Room and Some Chocolate. Is That Asking For Too Much?
I had a bit of an epiphany bright and early this morning. Yeah, brace yourself. It's a stunner. Here goes....Doesn't menopause closely resemble mental illness at times? I'm not kidding and I'm not being facetious and/or sarcastic. I've had about 3 days that, were it not for the fact I'm afflicted with menopause at this particular time in my life, I believe could have qualified me for a short, pleasant, drug worthy stay in my local looney bin. It all started Saturday morning. We got up, things were bopping right along, we had plans to take the boys to a movie later in the day. But first, we needed their help to rearrange our bedroom. I was in a splendid mood. Smiling, dancing about, even did a little out of tune singing for every one's listening pleasure. And then it happened. Jake looked at Kaleb, Kaleb looked at Jake, they both started laughing and nodding frantically at each other...turns out they were making fun of me! Yes. They were. They admitted it. They both thought they were funnnnnnny boys - pointing fingers at me, saying I was acting like I was "high". High! Me! Their mother. Well, that's pretty much all it took. The next thing I know, I'm standing in the closet crying my eyes out because I'm old, ugly, my kids are making fun of me, I'm middle aged, I'm fatter than Jabba, my hair's still gray because that stupid, stupid hairdresser didn't think maintaining a schedule was important enough to get to me at the appointed time....It was ridiculous. I was ridiculous. Worse than that, I was being m-e-n-t-a-l. Randey, looking at me like I was a disturbing and possibly hysterical freak, sort of patted me on my head, assured me all was well, explained that the boys thought they were laughing with me, not at me, blah, blah, blah. Okay. Thirty minutes later, I was fine. We finished moving the furniture, got everything together and head to the mall. Things went along just fine until I had to stop and use the restroom. Jacob had to go, too, so we walked all the way down this long, long corridor to where the mall restrooms were hidden. We go into our separate facilities. I did my business, came out and waited for Jacob. And waited. And then waited a little more. Finally, thinking I needed to go get Randey to go into the men's room to make sure Jake was okay, I head back up the long, long corridor to the main part of the mall. And who was standing there, laughing and joking with his dad and his brother? Jacob. Guess he didn't feel the need to wait for dear old Mom. I glared at him and mentioned that I had been down there waiting for him for quite some time. All three of them froze. They looked like deer caught in the headlights! And that's when it hit me! I terrorize these people with my moodiness. That knowledge brought on another round of tearfulness. I shut my mouth and vowed to stop being such a lunatic. Things went along pretty well after that. I think. It's hard to say really. Because I can't remember! Menopause is also causing me to have a memory like a sieve! I can barely retain my own name and address and heck, I may have to start writing that down and pinning it the hem of my shirt soon! I do remember that I spent much of yesterday morning in a wild frenzy of productivity. I cut back some old wilted flowers in the front flower bed, put the new scarecrows out there, made the wreath to go over the fireplace, cleaned off the dining room table, took a nice half hour to "wash that gray right outta my hair" (colored away the gray, okay?) and even took a few pictures to post on my blog. And then Randey left for a trip to Portland, Oregon. A few hours later, I was in a bit of a rage because I couldn't find the epoxy to fix something I'd just broken. That Randey! He'd used it last and I couldn't find it and I was fixing to start throwing things and pulling my hair out when Kaleb, very calmly, says "he put it on top of the fridge". Which is where it belongs, actually. Sure enough, I go check. It's there. Huh. And I thought I'd already looked on top of the fridge. Guess not. Fast forward to this morning...I awaken at the normal time (the boys did not - which resulted in my yelling up the stairs at the top of my lungs because I'm too lazy to stomp up those stairs that early in the morning!). Not a great start to the day, but I've had worse. Things go pretty well after that, they leave for school, I start dusting our bedroom and make the bed and drag the vacuum cleaner out. And the next thing I know, I'm standing there wondering why I'm cleaning. What difference does it make? It's just going to get dusty again. And how come I've been working on eating better the past couple of weeks and my shorts are still tight? I remember I used to be able to drop a couple of pounds like it was nothing. Now I can't get this weight to turn loose of me. I'm huge, I ain't getting smaller ever, ever again so where in the heck is my chocolate when I need it! Whew. That was so much fun. From the vacuum cleaner to chocolate in three easy steps. So let's recap, shall we? In the space of three days I have cried, raged, yelled, stomped, sulked, forgotten most of what I've seen, said and done, played, sobbed, glared, ground my teeth down into mere bumps of worn out enamel, laughed, pouted and terrified my family. And technically speaking,I'm not mental. I'm just menopausal. Uh-huh. I say we look into having this particular time in a woman's life reclassified to more accurately reflect what it actually does to the female mind: IT MAKES YOU CRAZIER THAN HELL AND WORTHY OF A PADDED ROOM!And by gosh, I want my padded room. And my chocolate. And I want them N-O-W!