I wrote this post last year, just around the time this blog spot changed something . . . enough for people like me to not know how to get on to their own blog. But it was fun to relive this one!
Ok, I know it's been a while since I wrote, you would think one month on the beach would provide some good writing time. Let's just say I was in another world. Current status: back to housekeeping/mothering wonderful life.
So I'm talking to my son Jacob yesterday, I don't know about what. You know how it goes talking to a five-yr-old . . . many of those conversations, I just nod my head and mumble an occasional 'uh huh.' So he was rambling about something very interesting to him when he paused, and said "Tiger has a dead squirrel." He had my attention.
I looked up from the dishes and saw that unfortunately he was not gazing out the window at our cat, Tiger. And therefore Tiger was not outside with the 'dead squirrel'. Oh wait, maybe Tiger just has a stuffed animal in his mouth, I hopefully thought. Since Jacob was peering down the hallway, of course not moving, just commenting on this new awareness that Tiger has a dead squirrel, I slowly walked around the corner to peek at Tiger, who made a mad dash for the basement with, yes, a bushy tail hanging from his mouth. I knew enough to know that it was not one of the beannie babies.
I began yelling "squirrel! squirrel!" down the basement where Chris and Jordan were cleaning. I learned the hard way in the past that simply screaming does not get the necessary attention. A couple years ago when I opened the garage door to a possum about to step into my home, I had hopes that my blood-curdling scream would draw some attention. I was wrong. I next tried screaming "POSSUM!" which was effective. So this time around, I wasted no efforts. It worked.
Chris headed up from the basement, the same time I headed down, so Tiger was trapped in the middle with his trophy. He hid his new little toy underneath my scrapbooking bag and took off. Chris got a broom (not sure how that was ganna help with a chipmunk (Jake was wrong about the squirrel) who can jump. Anyway, Chris picked up the bag, and the rodent started jumping. Therefore, I began screaming because I had visions of National Lampoon's Family Vacation with the squirrel . . . . I'm yelling for Tiger to get back here to catch the dang thing. Jordan is yelling "IT'S ZIPPY! IT'S ZIPPY!" because they name all the wildlife around here, and apparently Zippy is the chipmunk who lives underneath our driveway. Unfortunately, I'm not careing about Zippy's welfare right now, which seems upsetting to Jordan. She's yelling that Tiger will kill it. Yes, where did Tiger go, anyway?
Luckily, Zippy escaped, brushed past Chris's leg, and took off through the basement where Jacob somehow got him to go right out the door. Tiger spent the rest of the afternoon looking longingly out the window. And sweet Julia, who thinks her cat is an angel, missed it all.
Friday, May 25, 2012
You know you are hormonal when . . .
First of all, readers, the reason I have not posted in almost a year is because technology changed, forcing me temporarily our of my own blog, and I am NOT savvy enough to figure it out. Meanwhile, I was going through a very stressful year, and I was reserving every brain cell that I had for the mere purposes of survival. But I am back, at least I thought I was. Back to the reason I am writing today.
I know I am hormonal when I am cracking myself up with my own crazy thoughts. Today, before 9am even rolled around, here were a few clues I am having a hormonal shift. I don't even know if this counts for PMS, because it is only day 19. You may be thinking "how does she even know it is day 19!" Well, let me tell you. You might need to know this because there will be future "You know you are Hormonal when . . ." blogs, as I tend to live 50% of my life having these days. Somehow, I missed the bus when the "normal PMS" assignments were being given out. So anyway, for a long time, I have tracked my days and studied hormones in women. In laywoman's terms, lets just say that hormonone levels change constantly, keeping us a a chronic state of change, making it difficult for me/us to stay consistent and grounded. Ladies, let me offer you this awareness, which I believe accounts for much of our own crazy as well as brilliant thinking. Not everyone may relate to this, because hormones are different in everyone, with some people (like me) having more erratic changes than others.
AS a side note, my mom suggested I read THE FEMALE BRAIN. She even gave me the book. But since I was preserving all my brain cells for survival, I did little more than hold the book and hope to magically download the information by holding it. However, then my bestie, Heather, who I grew up with since the Brownie days, told me that she read it and it was AWESOME. She said every woman should read it, especially moms, because it will help our daughters learn about this crazy phenomenon.
Anyway, on to my morning . . . You know you are hormonal when:
. . . you wake up sweating and dreaming that you have fleas in your head and you are at a conference with people you respect, and those fleas are jumping all over your forehead.
. . . you cringe at the sound of your little child asking for chocolate milk, and you are tempted to yell, "get your own d*#! milk (but you sweetly say "just a minute honey"
. . . you make coffee and get back in bed for the 60 seconds that it takes to brew.
. . . you praise Jesus that it is bagel day at school and that is one less thing you have to do this morning.
. . . when your child starts fussing (because he always does and you should be used to it) you run to your stash of homeopathic vitamins that are supposed to calm your anxiety. You can barely answer the child because you have popped several of these GABA-calms under your tongue, hoping whether or not it is a placebo effect, that it will just come through for you this time!
. . . you will not, under any circumstances, drive the kids to school without coffee in your hand, although you will leave without any make-up, hair, or even shoes.
. . . you notice that it is a beautiful Michigan day (which have been scarce up until recently) so you force yourself for your kids sake to mention what a nice day it is.
. . . you are fully aware that you should take advantage of every beautiful Michigan day, and exercise, or walk the dog, or something! But instead you know full wee that you will go home and make a pot of coffee and enjoy staring out the window being totally non-productive.
. . . you can't wait for the 5 minute drive to be over so you can get a moment to yourself, feeling guilty for being so happy to dump your kids at school.
. . . THEN - 30 seconds later, you are tearful because your kids are leaving you for the day. You remind them to study hard and grow their brain cells, and as you say it, you realize they are growing. They are not just leaving you for the day, they are leaving you!
Everyone, I wish for you today (and myself) a STABLE day!
I know I am hormonal when I am cracking myself up with my own crazy thoughts. Today, before 9am even rolled around, here were a few clues I am having a hormonal shift. I don't even know if this counts for PMS, because it is only day 19. You may be thinking "how does she even know it is day 19!" Well, let me tell you. You might need to know this because there will be future "You know you are Hormonal when . . ." blogs, as I tend to live 50% of my life having these days. Somehow, I missed the bus when the "normal PMS" assignments were being given out. So anyway, for a long time, I have tracked my days and studied hormones in women. In laywoman's terms, lets just say that hormonone levels change constantly, keeping us a a chronic state of change, making it difficult for me/us to stay consistent and grounded. Ladies, let me offer you this awareness, which I believe accounts for much of our own crazy as well as brilliant thinking. Not everyone may relate to this, because hormones are different in everyone, with some people (like me) having more erratic changes than others.
AS a side note, my mom suggested I read THE FEMALE BRAIN. She even gave me the book. But since I was preserving all my brain cells for survival, I did little more than hold the book and hope to magically download the information by holding it. However, then my bestie, Heather, who I grew up with since the Brownie days, told me that she read it and it was AWESOME. She said every woman should read it, especially moms, because it will help our daughters learn about this crazy phenomenon.
Anyway, on to my morning . . . You know you are hormonal when:
. . . you wake up sweating and dreaming that you have fleas in your head and you are at a conference with people you respect, and those fleas are jumping all over your forehead.
. . . you cringe at the sound of your little child asking for chocolate milk, and you are tempted to yell, "get your own d*#! milk (but you sweetly say "just a minute honey"
. . . you make coffee and get back in bed for the 60 seconds that it takes to brew.
. . . you praise Jesus that it is bagel day at school and that is one less thing you have to do this morning.
. . . when your child starts fussing (because he always does and you should be used to it) you run to your stash of homeopathic vitamins that are supposed to calm your anxiety. You can barely answer the child because you have popped several of these GABA-calms under your tongue, hoping whether or not it is a placebo effect, that it will just come through for you this time!
. . . you will not, under any circumstances, drive the kids to school without coffee in your hand, although you will leave without any make-up, hair, or even shoes.
. . . you notice that it is a beautiful Michigan day (which have been scarce up until recently) so you force yourself for your kids sake to mention what a nice day it is.
. . . you are fully aware that you should take advantage of every beautiful Michigan day, and exercise, or walk the dog, or something! But instead you know full wee that you will go home and make a pot of coffee and enjoy staring out the window being totally non-productive.
. . . you can't wait for the 5 minute drive to be over so you can get a moment to yourself, feeling guilty for being so happy to dump your kids at school.
. . . THEN - 30 seconds later, you are tearful because your kids are leaving you for the day. You remind them to study hard and grow their brain cells, and as you say it, you realize they are growing. They are not just leaving you for the day, they are leaving you!
Everyone, I wish for you today (and myself) a STABLE day!
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