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For about two years I have been in perimenopause.  I can handle not being able to lose weight (unless I were to quit my job and make that my full time job).  I can handle the inability to sleep through a night.  The grumpiness (some say that’s not new anyway), moodiness, crying at everything.  The forgetfulness.  The random visits from my period.  I can even stand the hot flashes.  But what I cannot stand are the pimples.  Seriously?  All that other crap, but I still get the same damn acne I had in my teens?  I’m sorry but there should be some payoff for all the new stuff.  I console myself with the fact this is at least happening a little earlier since they took the one ovary out eight years ago.  If I were going through perimenopause while my sons were teenagers, someone wouldn’t survive.

So I wade through the hot flashes.  I don’t really mind the heat and I can manage the winters much better than I ever have in my life.  I wade through the tired nights that turn into the even more tired mornings.  I have begun to drink coffee.  Something I thought I would never do.  And that’s fun.  Watching Hubby’s face when I ask if there is any coffee…he still is getting used to it.

I enjoy making new discoveries about myself as I go through this phase of life.  I’m better at saying no.  I’m better at standing up for myself.  If I have to feel the way I do, I’m going to be comfortable in as many other areas of my life as I can.  I feel like I have a deeper appreciation for newness.  I feel like I feel things more than I did before.  While the boys are not yet teenagers, they are so independent.  I am finding more time in each day to spend with myself, doing stuff that I find interesting.  Rediscovering things I had forgotten that I found interesting.  I am giving myself more freedom from deadlines and timelines that I create for myself.  “I must have this, that, and this done by this time.”  Or when I get it done.  That freedom comes from forgetting what it was I was doing and starting something else while I try to remember the first thing.  I’m writing this at 11:30. I sat down to write it at 10:30, but couldn’t remember why I had grabbed the laptop so I puttered on it till I did.

I am embracing my middle age years and exploring topics and knowledge that pique my curiosity just for fun.  In my youth, I thought I would HAVE to earn a PhD.  Nope.  I’m good.  I just like learning.  I don’t need to do that at this point in my life and am glad I didn’t spend time doing it when I was young-not part of my career path.  I love learning about something new when I am ready to move on to the next.  I love learning about the stuff my sons are interested in so I can better guide them in their lives.  I love learning about our pets.  Who knew I would know so much about the diet of bearded dragons?  Or know so much about their poop?

Well, I am tired.  The new rule is to go to bed when my body is tired (since I gave up Diet Coke a few months ago and weened off of intravenous caffeine, I find it easier to tell when my body is actually tired).  It doesn’t mean I will fall asleep.  I simply will go to bed, with my hot flashes and pimples, and stare at the ceiling.  I’ll take my melatonin and it will help me slip into dreamland for a bit.  I’ll drift in and out of sleep.  I’ll dream of a pimple-free face.

In 1993 I walked out of a movie theater scared to death that the T-Rex was going to swallow me whole on the way home. It was one of those movies that changed the way you look at movies. I loved everything about it. I loved Spielberg for making it. In the second one, I loved that Spielberg again had a dog eaten by the scary creature, a very hungry T-Rex (first dog was eaten in Jaws). I love Jaws and watch it regularly and always on the Fourth of July (Amity, as you know, means friendship). These movies are a part of my mind’s eye.

My sons have grown up watching Spielberg movies and tonight we shared seeing Jurassic World in the theater. Sunday we will see Jaws in the theater and celebrate 40 years of Bruce.  Older son’s room has dinosaur murals and Younger Son’s room has Bruce painted on one wall of his ocean mural. I love the movies that Spielberg creates, in whatever role he plays. You can just tell when he has his hand in it. To see my sons walk out of the theater tonight with huge smiles on their faces and to hear them talk incessantly about the movie on the way home are memories that will warm my heart for a long time.

The school year comes to a close once again this Friday. The boys are very excited about it as they have not really been doing work for the past week and can’t wait for it to be over. They are also very excited because we will see Jurassic World this Friday after school lets out.

It has been a very rough year for both of my sons. Older son has been struggling with pre teen angst and all the joy and fun that goes with that. This also was the year that he discovered he has to actually do work in order to get straight A’s. He had his first F in his life although he did pull it back up to a B- just in the nick of time. He did well on his math placement test and I’m sure he will still be in honors next year.

Younger son’s year was filled with struggle because of that highly annoying bully. He simply can’t wait for 4th grade to be over. He also faces the challenge of his best friend moving away this November. However baseball offered some wonderful relief to these struggles. His team won the championship in the minors division. So as is always the case, there is balance and to quote Ian Malcolm life find a way.

As for me I am finishing my marathon 6 week summer courses and soon my life will settle down a bit too. And yes to relax I will declutter my house.

Correction

I have corrected the typo in Battleship (the have spelled incorrectly) five times.  It will not update and is driving me a bit crazy.  Short trip, I know, but arrrrrrr.

Battleship

We have stayed up late the past few evenings playing Battleship.  Not the newfangled electronic version, but the classic peg and plastic ship version.  It was Hubby’s when he was a wee small boy.  The boys love when they win and hate when they lose.  It’s been several nights chock full of learning how to be a good sport.  The marathon series of games helps that lesson.  There is always another game and another winner.

Life is about winning and losing.  There is no way of getting around that.  The “cards” you are dealt may not seem fair, but truly is what you do with the cards that matter.  You can always discard them and hope for better.  You don’t need to sit there and bemoan your lot in life, change the cards and see what happens.

We are trying to help Younger Son realize that he can change his cards.  Fourth grade does not have to be remembered as the year of the bully.  It has been filled with so many wonderful events, life milestones, and new accomplishments.  And I do believe I am seeing some signs of him moving forward in this idea.  As with anything with nine year olds, it is two steps forward, three steps back, but he is getting there. A more positive outlook, kind words, kind actions, and allowing himself to be and feel happy.  We slowed things down, as much as we could, and it is making a difference in helping him remember that the bully has no power over him.

He likes quoting Sarah.  “You have no power over me.”  He is re-embracing his uniqueness and savoring marching to his own drummer.  He is remembering that he is an Addams!  He’s remembering he can sink that Battleship!

Dirty Hands

Me: How did your hands get this dirty?

Younger Son:  Well, I fell off my ripstik and then landed…

Me:  Why didn’t you wash them?

YS: I’m a boy. We’re dirty.

Me:  You know, boys can be clean.

YS: Yes, but mostly we’re not.

He ate his sandwich with those hands.  A quadruple decker PB&J.  With those hands.  Ew.

Sadness, heartache, grief, worry, concern, some more sadness, frustration, anger, are all emotions and feelings I have had as a parent.  I worry about my sons everyday and everyday they find new ways to give me attitude.They are experts at that now and deliver it with such finesse they should offer training workshops on it for other kids.  They always seem to know just how to dig in and make my heart weep just a little bit.  The angry “I know, Mom” response is probably my favorite because it’s rife with the conflict they are feeling.  They do know I am right, and they hate it.  They do know that they know better, and they hate that probably more than they hate me being right.  They get so frustrated that they forgot to make the better choice again.

So I pray every morning on the way to work that they will have good experiences at school each day.  They will make the better choice when facing tricky situations.  They will remember that they are 11 and 9 and should be having fun in their childhoods and not take it too seriously.

They don’t call me anymore after school.  They are too big for that.  Which means when I get home around 6:15 we get to have the conflict about homework, again.  I wish I could make them have the realization that they could have their homework done by 4:30 if they choose to, but I can’t.  So that means resistance when I get home since I want it completed and they want to keep riding their razor ripstiks.  Only one of us can win this battle, and it usually is me, and this is a battle to win.  Smaller ones I let go because the adage is true, you have to choose your battles.

Because at the end of the day, when they are asleep in their beds, and you can still see the baby inside the boy, parenting sucks a little more love into your heart, and it sucks a little more breath away as you listen to them breathe.  Parenting sucks a little bit of cynicism out of your system every day as you listen to their conversations, without them knowing because jeez, Mom, you wouldn’t understand, and you hear the optimism coming from their minds and souls.  It sucks a little bit of your learned prejudices and behaviors out of your system as you remember that these are learned aspects of life.  It sucks a little bit of the tiredness you feel after working all week and infuses you with energy to see their smiles when they wake up in the morning, thinking of the important things in life: playing with Legos, riding a skateboard, staring at the clouds, making your cat dance, picking a flavor of ice cream at White Dotte, arguing who is better, Iron Man or Spiderman, and creating magical treasures using only glue, yarn, and popsicle sticks.  These are some of the secrets they don’t tell you about parenting.

That and the amazingly high number of times you will hear the word “poop” in a day.

Mr. Holland Moments

I got home a little after midnight from a long but happy day at work. I was fortunate enough to end my day with a Mr Holland’s moment from two of my tutors. I did not realize until after they gave me those wonderful moments how much I needed those moments.

I said hello to my sons, to my husband, and to my dog. The cats ignored me as they typically do. It was a good day at work and I had fun. It felt like a day at work from a couple of years ago, full of fun, but also productive.

And my older son said he was happy that I had fun at work today. He said he knew I had been sad at work lately and was happy that today was fun. He told me I should enjoy work. He then gave me very wise advice. He said choose a job that you love and you will never work a day in your life. And now I have to Google if it really was Confucius who said that, since that’s what the eleven year old claimed.

Okay, it is typically attributed to Confucius, but there are some raging debates that it couldn’t have been him. We’ll let it lie. Because it’s already out there.

I haven’t quite been sad at work, but it’s hard to explain to my sons without making them worry. There has been a lot going on within the boys’ lives and so it’s been very tricky to balance it all. My heart has wanted to be at home when they are home, but that’s not how the job description reads. I’m fortunate-I can take time off as I need to in order to handle much of what is going on. But I still worry while I’m at work.

I know, I know, worrying gets you nowhere. But I’m a mom. And tonight I’m a grace-filled mom and wife who had a fun day at work.

Spring Break

And today is my official spring break. Now I realize not everyone’s job has a spring break so perhaps I shouldn’t complain. But I work at a private institution, so our calendar is set to our own standards. And yes, I get the whole week or so at Christmas till New Year’s (officially called Winter Break). But we do often have weekend and evening work as regular parts of the job.

But I am rambling. The point today is that it is my spring break and it’s freakin’ snowing.

image

Yep, I’m gonna whine for a bit. Started the day with Younger Son throwing up because he is so stressed from the situation with another student at school (bully). Got him calmed down and brought the boys to school. I walked them in and went to the main office with Younger Son. I pulled a wee bit of Shirley MacLaine in Terms of Endearment (give my daughter the shot!) simply so the school could have some appreciation for the stress the situation has been causing our family.

Got home, spoke with my boss who graciously offered for me to stay home and catch up on whatever I needed to (laundry, housework, sleep). I did two loads of laundry, walked Rex, got Diet Coke from the Acme, and dropped off ink cartridges at Staples. School still hadn’t called to say Younger Son had gotten sick again so it was nap time. Hubby had lunch.

Then Hubby got sick. He now wonders if it’s a bug, but I think it’s food poisoning. No point in debating it with him. As I like to say to him, “You’re the doc, Doc.”

So we all went to the doctor’s office. Doc saw the doc and we went home. He went to sleep and I emailed the people I was supposed to meet with at church. Fed the boys, dropped Older Son at karate, Younger Son at baseball, grabbed a coffee regular at Dunkin’s, went back to karate, then back to baseball, then home. Showers, desserts, and walk the dog again. Another load of laundry because Older Son needs the same clothes for tomorrow to finish filming in one of his classes. A little homemade MTV with the boys. And now time to collapse in bed. No wine needed.