Highlights

Yesterday my friend and I were talking about the new year that is a few hours away now. She asked me what were my highlights from this year. I told her I would really have to think about that one. Hers was treatment for a medical condition

which made her life a lot easier and more healthier. I told her I knew that hers was going to be that. She had been suffering with this medical problem for years and finally she found a way to get it taken care of. I am very happy that she did. 

So, then I started to think about myself. Well, this year I didn't do anything so amazing like have a baby, get married, move to another state or country, climb a mountain, ski across country, break a world record or anything like that. I was thinking I had more low lights then highlights. After all, I have been through a lot with my mom with her getting sick and all the stuff that goes along with that. But, that highlight would be she is still here with me. She is slowly getting better the best she can. She won't be fully her old self again not with her onset of dementia but she is still here and I get to talk to her everyday, share with her things about how and what I am feeling, cook for her and take care of her when she needs me. I hope to have her here for a lot more years. Of course the low lights would be the medical bills but, that will all work itself out even if it takes the next 20 years to pay them. lol I am just feeling blessed that she is still with us.

Then I thought about my son. He didn't do anything so spectacular this year. He was just being a kid. He went from 9 years old to 10 years old and now has a 13 year old attitude. But, we still laugh together and he is not sick and I am so thankful for that. I have read about a lot of kids that were not so fortunate and are not with us today. I am glad mine is and thriving. A highlight for him this year was an unexpected one. Last week he got a Christmas card in the mail. That part was not so unexpected but the person who sent it was. It came from his paternal grandmother. She hasn't sent him a card since he has been born. She barely acknowledges his existence. He has got all of two gifts from her in ten years. One was a big wheel when he was 2 that his father never could figure out how to put together. The other was a musical toy that she got from the thrift store when he was first born. So, to get this card was a surprise and an ever bigger surprise was the fact she put $20 in it and wrote a personal note. I had to call and find out if she was okay and of course my son called to thank her too. 

Next I thought about all the things that I do have that lots of people don't and as long as I have the basics I am pretty good. I have food, a roof and clothes. And I thought about a time not so long ago, about 7 years ago when I didn't. I feel blessed just to wake up everyday in a bed, my own bed. And I feel blessed to have a kitchen. I missed having a kitchen. It sounds strange to miss a kitchen but I did and even missed cooking. 

And I thought about my health. I am lucky to be in good health. Not the best but I am improving that over time. But, at least I am not in a hospital fighting for my life. I feel blessed for that too.

So, I told my friend that my highlight of the year was surviving the year. All the ups and downs and in betweens. I am still here to see another year. 

Happy New Year!

Fence Hopping

I have 3 nephews and noticed that boys do the darnest  things when they are little and my son is no exception. I remember that all of my now grown nephews "escaped" from the house when they were little and they all ended up around the corner at the mini market eating ice cream. I remember all the things that their friends told them to do and they did it. Most of those things got them into trouble but nonetheless they did them anyway. I remember my oldest nephews friend grounded from Halloween one year and actually made a "rope" out of sheets and blankets, similar to what you see on an old black and white movie, and climbed out of his bedroom window to go trick or treating when he was 8 years old. Of course, he got caught and got in trouble and couldn't eat any of his Halloween candy that year and was banned from trick or treating for the next year. That next Halloween his parents watched him more closely and there was no sneaking out. Just going to the door to give out candy in his monster costume. 

So, it came as no surprise when yesterday my son did something not so smart. My next door neighbor's house looks like a compound. I kid you not. You can't see his house from the street. It is hidden behind a tall fence and you would have to be a giant to see anything but the few trees that hang over the fence and a couple of flowering plants that hang on the other side. Other then that you can't see anything. From my porch I can see part of his side yard and a sliding glass door and one apple tree. That is it and only because my porch is a little higher then his house. But, just passing by it you might miss it. It reminds me of a house that a celebrity would live in if they lived in this neighborhood. House far from the street  secluded in the back where nobody can see you come and go if you didn't want them too.  I guess he is sort of like a celebrity though since he was on Oprah in the 90's. He wrote some book on diversity or some books on diversity and he gives courses to other people on that subject. One year he had a seminar at this house and passed out flyers that asked the neighbors to be quiet because they were filming it.  So, I guess he is well off, upper middle class and can afford to have a house hidden away from the prying eyes. 

Now, the trouble with that is the neighbor kids, including my son, who like to play ball. Any kind of ball, especially their version of football which involves kicking the ball as well as throwing it. So, you can imagine that the ball has traveled over his fence many times in spite of me telling them to be careful and play not so close to his fence. At first he was nice about getting the balls for them and throwing them over the fence when he was home. I cautioned them, my son and his friends again, and even told them I would take my son's ball away if they couldn't seem to keep the ball on their side of the world. They did good for a while. But, with kids, nothing good lasts for too long especially when you are playing a ball game. 

Yesterday, I heard one of them say, "Oh no." I knew that met only something bad. I went out to see and sure enough not one but two balls had been kicked "accidentally" over the fence and the guy was not home. They agreed to wait until he came home to ask if he could get the balls or if they could get them. That agreement lasted all of ten seconds. I then heard my son's voice calling me. I went to investigate. He was over in the other yard and said he was stuck. I saw him standing up so I said what did he mean stuck. He said he can't get back over the fence. I held back the urge to lecture him on the spot. I said I would save that until we found a way to get him back on the side of fence he was supposed to be on.  It seemed that the way he got over, climbing on top of the garbage can on the other side of the fence was not a good way to get back over because of course the garbage can he used was on the wrong side of the fence. But, he said that his friend who went over in the past said that there was something on that other side that he could climb on to get back.  Of course there wasn't. I told my son to go to the gate in the front of the compound and try to open it. He tried. I tried and neither of us could. I rang the door bell positioned outside of the gate in the hopes that someone might be visiting the man and they might be inside and open the door and the gate. No such luck. 

Then I got the idea of crates. Yes, we had some old crates that my nephew, whom I call, "Fred Sanford" from Sanford and Son the TV show, because he is a junk collector and always has been. If it is at the curb with a free sign he will take it. I went and got the 3 crates and hurled them over the side of the fence where he was stuck and told him to stack them and climb up on them that should give him enough height to hurl his butt back over to the other side. That worked. 

So, when the neighbor got home my son asked him for the crates back. He gave him a puzzled look and my son told him the story. He was nice about it and he asked my son and his friends not to throw or kick any more balls in his yard. I guess he got tired of retrieving them and the crates and being stuck were probably the straw. I figured that much. I gave them all a long talking to about the balls and playing too close to his yard and then told my son to come inside with his balls for the rest of the day because he knew better.  He was not a happy camper and proceeded to wine and beg to go back out and give me and the neighbor an apology but that didn't help his case any and he was grounded for the rest of the day. 

I know that people say that boys will be boys and I guess they are right. But, when I look back when I was his age I hate to admit it but I did almost the same thing. Climbing a fence to get a ball but I didn't get stuck. I guess what they say about apples and trees applies too. 

Tricks and Treats and Births!

I have always enjoyed Halloween although I never really considered it a "real" holiday but when I was little I loved getting dressed up and going out with my sister and cousins getting free candy. Back then there were no cell phones so if we were a tad late coming home we would try to sneak in and pretend that we didn't know what time it was. It didn't work but we tried. Back then my sister and I never brought costumes we always just used what we had in the house and dressed up in whatever and made our own costumes. One year, my aunt and uncle had just come back from Hawaii a couple weeks before Halloween and they brought us back some souvenirs. I got a fake grass shirt, a lay, and a fake flower for my hair so that year I was a hula dancer. I put the skirt on over my pants and all the other stuff on and I was the talk of the neighborhood. I can't remember what my sister was but probably something similar. One year I was a hobo, dressed in old clothes that were too big a little and mis matched. Another year I was a homemaker with curlers in my hair, a robe and tennis shoes. And one year I was just dressed up in my mom's old clothes and called myself a professional woman. Everyone used to say that my costumes were so creative. My father took us out and my mom stayed home. 

So, every year since my son was about 2 we have been going out trick or treating. This year, as in every year since we have moved to this neighborhood almost, we have gone to our old neighborhoods to trick or treat. Because around here there are mostly apartments and businesses and nobody really gives out anything. And we like to go and see how things have changed back in our two old neighborhoods. We only have two that we have lived in since he was born plus this one. So, my son bugs me as soon as he wakes up in the morning about what time we are going and what he is going to bring to put his candy in and he was more anxious then I was at his age. The time finally came, almost. My sister wanted to come and so after work she came over and we went to take her to cash her check and on the road we were trying to figure out where to go. We passed by our first old neighborhood in Albany, CA. Drove down the street we used to live on and they fixed up our old house we used to live in with lights and halloween decorations and it looked really nice. There were a large group of kids already in line trying to get to the door to get some free candy. We decided to do a little more driving. We saw a few more kids out, mostly little kids under 5 and so we made the decision to go to our last old neighborhood north of where we live now.

The street we used to live on at the time we used to live there was filled with kids mostly around the same age as my son was back then. One neighbor used to laugh and say that the neighborhood was filled with 2 year olds. There were a few senior citizens who had been there for years and owned their homes and knew us because at that time we lived in my grandmother's old house and everyone knew her and they always saw us coming and going over the years. So, we were known as Elsie's grand kids and great grand kids. 

Well, we couldn't go trick or treating on that block because it was blocked off and no cars were permitted to go down that street nor were any lights on in any of the houses.  I guess that street was boycotting Halloween. The scrooge of Halloween lived on that street, all of the new people who moved there probably.  I don't know who lives on that block now. The last time we trick or treated that block was two or three years ago but times have sure changed down there. There was only one house that was decorated and that house sat on the corner, not really connected to that street.  I was speechless.  But, I was thinking that was okay we had other houses and places to go to around there. 

We migrated near the little tot park and parked. Now, there they celebrated Halloween like it should be celebrated. Almost every house was decorated with pumpkins and lights and ghosts and it was like a Halloween wonderland. My son was happy and so was I. We got out of the car and proceeded to trick or treat every house we saw decorated and that was a lot of houses. In the first fifteen minutes his small happy meal sized Halloween bucket was almost full. Not only did they give candy away but they gave you more then one. Halloween bliss came over everyone. I was getting ready for my personal sugar high once we got home. I almost got tempted to eat a few bite size snickers bars before we got home but I restrained myself and my son and we carried on.  What we did notice was a lot more families were together trick or treating. I saw a lot of grandmothers and grandfathers going along with the parents of the kids enjoying Halloween just as much as they were. They giggled along with the kids at the sight of all the decorated porches and jumped when they got to houses that played scary Halloween music. They chatted with me about their grand kids and about their memories of Halloween. The parents were busy taking pictures of kids who for the most part were all under 7 and making sure the said thank you after they got their treats. It was nice. Some parents dressed up with their kids. I was not one of those. Even though I enjoy Halloween my days of dressing up I think are gone with the wind.  But, the parents who did dress up were cute. 

We stopped at one house and this older woman opened the door who kind of reminded me of  my own grandmother. She asked my son who he was, which was Naurto, and she asked all about his costume and asked him could he hold on a minute because her 90 year old mother wanted to see his costume. He proudly stood on the porch and waited for her to see him and told her all about his costume and the cartoon which gave him the costume idea.  They talked to him for a little bit and gave him more candy and told him to have a nice night. I think that was the best part about trick or treating, those two ladies who were interested in the stories my son had to tell about his costume. 

On the way home the night just got better. Not because of the boat load of candy that I was secretly plotting on "stealing" some from my son and putting myself on a mini sugar high, which was pretty darn good too, but my sister got a text from her step daughter who said that she had had her baby girl.  So, we had two reasons to celebrate Halloween this year. And next year we will have a new person to take trick or treating with us. It can't get better than that. 

Not a day over 47

My mom gets meals on wheels delivered every day except Wednesday. The food she thinks is pretty good most days. Except for the days they serve fish. She's not much of a fish eater. Our family never really a fish family. So, I am always or try to be prepared for the knock on the door around 11ish most days.  There is this one man who delivers a couple days out of the week and he is older and he wears a helmet. I think he rides a bike of some sort but I never really look totally out of the door to see what mode of transportation he uses to get here.  But, he is a tall gentlemen and sticking out from his bike helmet is a wispy grey hair. He has bright grey eyes and always wears shorts and sneakers with knee length socks. He has a very kind face and a nice smile. My mom doesn't really go to the door, by the time she would get to the door if she did whoever was at the door would be long gone. She sits and waits until I open the door and collect the food and bring it to her. Well, the older gentlemen, when I open the door he always calls me by my mom's name. I guess he assumes that I am her and it is hard to see her behind a door that is cracked open just enough for the food to be handed over and then closed. I smile back at him and take the food and then he says God Bless you and he is off and running with the next delivery.

Then I started to think. I was thinking that you have to be over 60 to get into this program among other things and that  my mom is well over 60 at 77. I was thinking now if he thinks I am my mom, a 77 year old senior then something is wrong with me looking way too old or him just not knowing the difference. Maybe he thinks I am a young 77. Then it bothered me that he would think I was close to 77. I looked in the mirror to check for myself to see if I had aged 25 years or so and didn't even know it and just thought I looked okay and I really looked like an older woman twice my age almost.  I don't have a full length mirror so I had to settle for the one in the bathroom over the medicine cabinet. I looked hard and long at my face. I didn't see any wrinkles or lines that I hadn't saw before and they weren't that pronounced so I thought ok pretty much the same face. I did notice that my skin was drier then I thought as I ran my hand across my face just to be sure. So, I checked my hair. You know sometimes you can have some grey that you never noticed or are just so used to seeing that you over look it. I looked closely and carefully for those grey hairs I hate so much. I saw a baby one in the front on the side of my head but that wouldn't age me 25 years I didn't think. I took the hand mirror and checked the back of my head, the part that I can't see normally when I comb and brush my hair. I didn't see anything there either with the exception of two greys. Of course, the man can't see the back of my head so that would not have made a difference one way or the other with me looking old.  Then I was forced to come to the conclusion that the man is blind. Yep, that is my story and I am sticking with it. I said to myself I don't look a day over 47 at 51. And I am happy with that.

Crying over the Meatballs

One of my son's favorite things to say to me is OMG. I feel like saying that a lot too sometimes. I actually could say it a lot more then he does when I tell him to do something like come inside after 200000 hours of being outside on the weekend or taking out the trash. I can say it when I have my 30,000 hot flash during the daytime and my sometimes oh so not nice hot sweats at night.  I could say it when I am running to bathroom after my 5th cup of cold water trying to cool myself off after just sitting and sweating for no reason at all. Or when I am watching a comedy on television and start crying for no reason at the happy ending. Not too mention all the aches and pains that come along with just getting older and I won't try to mention the grey and the wrinkles that will soon be creeping into my life more as the years go forward.

So, I was putting the meatballs in the oven. I saw a recipe on the Rachel Ray show and well, got tired of eating the same old same old around here and was going to try some turkey meatballs for dinner along with pasta. So, I am standing there about to get the onion out of the fridge to grate it over the meat and I start grating it and then I starting the onion cry not long afterwards. Ok, that was bad enough and then I look out of the kitchen window and see a puppy. Just a little brown puppy with big black eyes. I don't know where he came from or who if anyone owns him. I didn't see his human with him at first so I started thinking about my first puppy, Feeshia, who was a German Shepard puppy with big black eyes and as sweet as she could be. Then I started crying harder. You would have thought that someone died or something. It was that bad. Good thing I was in the kitchen alone and my mom was asleep oblivious to all of this crying. My son was happily playing hide and seek tag outside with a group of neighborhood kids so he was not a witness to this crying fit either.  I put the onions away and when my son came in a few minutes later I blamed the onions for the tears I was wiping from my eyes. He shook his head got a cup of water and ran back outside.  If only I was able to run as fast as he can was my first thought. Then I stopped didn't want to start blubbering again all over the meatballs. 

It is just funny how things have changed for me. I can't remember crying this much or this often since I was pregnant. And even then it wasn't this much. I remember when I had my periods I would wish for this day when I would not have the cramps, the pain, the pads, the tampons, the mood swings and everything else that came along with it. My friends and I would talk about menopause and sometimes pray that ours would come early. I guess be careful what you ask for. Although it didn't come too early I now have new stuff that comes along with that wish. But, would I got back to the cycles? I think that I would go back long enough just to have another child and then I would not even think about going back. But, I guess also the divine plan for me was just one child. And I am ok with that.  So, I will just go with the non flow of menopause and take what it throws at me and throw it back and make lemonade out of oranges on the days when I feel like crying over the meatballs.

Buttery Goodness

I turned on the oven to bake biscuits this morning. I had a taste for biscuits slathered with butter and strawberry jam. That was going to be breakfast. My mind was made up. I opened the can of biscuits and popped them in the oven and tossed the can in the garbage. The oven was pre heated as usual. It didn't really bother me at first the heat from the oven. I could almost taste the buttery goodness while waiting. I had my plate ready in antispaction. I considered some eggs but no biscuits were fine. I wasn't too hungry and did not want or desire anything more then buttery biscuits.

Then something happens that hasn't in a while giving me a false sense of security that it would be fine to turn the oven to 250 degrees for 8-10 minutes to bake my biscuits. I started to get hotter then the forth of July. I tried fanning myself with a dish cloth hoping that would do the trick. It didn't. I opened the fridge and stood there searching the shelves for something cool to drink. Anything I was thinking. I grabbed a juice box. It was small but in a pinch it worked. So, I guzzled down the few ounces of juice and checked on the biscuits hoping they were done. The heat was killing me and so was the waiting. They were almost done. I went into the living room ten feet from the blazing oven and opened a window. That really didn't help because its warm today and no breeze to be felt.

I crossed my fingers and said a little prayer that my biscuits would be done. They were not as brown as I would have liked but they were cooked. I took them out and my buttery goodness was ready to begin. Although, I was hot and tired for no apparent reason and so I took my hot biscuit and my mouth watered as I bit into the goodness which was a biscuit I was craving. 

Meltdowns

Today was a day of meltdowns. My son decided that he simply didn't and couldn't do his homework. My blood pressure probably rose instantly and that started a hot flash to end all flashes. So, as I am standing there dripping with sweat from my face down and peeling off layers of clothes, OK' just a jogging jacket, but it felt like layers,  and telling him the benefits of reading, writing, and math my mom then started weeping, part of her dementia and side affects of the medicines she's taking. She went from taking none to five in little over a month. So, I standing in the middle of the room sweating and taking off my jacket while on one side of the room having an endless hot flash, and my son on the other side of the room pouting because God forbid he had extra work to do when the only thing running through his mind was thoughts of him zooming through the neighborhood on his bike and my mom just sitting there weeping saying she now needed to go outside. I felt like crying too.

But, we all couldn't be crying all at the same time so I help back. First I tried to console my mom and tell her that outside is where she could go in a week or so when she's stronger. Then on to my stubborn son who was now just sitting there doing nothing but begging to go outside. After a few minutes which seemed like years, of telling him that you do what you have to do then you get to do what you want to do and realizing I sounded like my mother totally everyone was calm. 

I needed a long vacation after that and I took one, OK,not really, I locked myself in the bathroom for a minute and just sat there sweating and hoping the day would either get better or everyone would go to bed at 7 pm. Neither happened by the way. 

Shower

Lately when I have had the urge or really the need to clean I find after two minutes of just actually walking to find the broom or mop or both I break out in a hot sweat. Usually that would stop my urge to clean in a hot minute so to say. Plus add a little joint pain from out of nowhere and that's usually a rap for me. I say to myself the universe doesn't want me to clean but since the universe didn't supply me with a endless cash flow or a maid then that means most days I don't have a choice. And on this particular day with peoply coming over I really did not have much of one.

So, I grabbed a cool drink and a small fan and was ready to go. I couldn't get half the kitchen floor swept before gobs of sweat started rolling down my face. I was starting to wish I had the merry maids number on speed dial. I seriously thought about looking them up. But, I said to myself OK, this is crazy this apartment is not that big. The park we go to is bigger. I wiped the sweat from my forehead, cursed hot flashes and menopause and carried on like I was on a mission. I wasn't going to be beaten by menopause and a broom. No, not me. I had two hours to get this place almost spotless. Spotless was not going to happen cause after all, we live here its not a tiny show place. 

Two hours later I was hotter then hot, I was sure I hadn't been that hot since I had the flu ten years ago. I pulled back my soaking wet hair in a bun and changed my shirt and I was ready to meet and greet. When the guests came someone asked if I just got out of the shower. I guess judging from the look of my hair that was a logical assumption. 

Yes, I did have a shower it is called a menopause shower. 

older

I have spent the past few days thinking about me 26 years from now. Twenty six years from now I will be as old as my mom is today. Some people say if you want to know how the daughter will look when she's older look at the mom. I don't know about that. But, I was just thinking about my body, how it will change. I started thinking about white or grey hair, walking a little slower, talking slower and more with purpose. I thought about some of the things you have to give up that you might not want to such as driving or a little independence. I thought about no more periods and the menopausal pay off for it. When I was younger suffering from cramps and bloating I would foolishly wish that I would have an early menopause. 

So, I studied my moms face. I looked at her eyes which were always vibrant brown but seemed just a little duller then they used to be. I looked at her smiling face chatting enthusiastically with my son and listened to her stories about her patents that I have heard a million times and now she was telling Josh. I know that one day she will probably forget most if these stories but she chatted on and answered all his questions happily. I watched her eyebrows move up and down at each word.  I  chuckled and laughed with them.

I thought about what I am going through now she has went through and a lot more.  I came to the conclusion that growing old might not be too bad after all.

Too Dam Long

Someone recently asked me how long menopause lasts. I thought about it for a few minutes and really didn't have an answer. I didn't even know when it was supposed to start let alone end. All I knew is one day when I was 46 or 47 I was riding in the car with my mom driving and we were going to the grocery store I was dressed for the cold winter weather all bundled up and all of a sudden out of nowhere I started to get warm. I raised the window down some for some air. My mom looked at me like I was going crazy. I thought I was for a minute. I thought that the air would be enough. It helped. 

Funny my mom never said a word on the drive there. I am raising down windows, shedding clothes like I am on a tropical island and its 90 degrees in the shade and she kept quiet. I am pretty sure she knew what was going on but didn't know how to approach the topic. We had a brief ten minute conversation when I started my period at 11. She was embarrassed then so I was not too surprised at the silence now. So, by the time we got to the store the hot flash was over and my jacket was back on. We walked around talked about food and shopped. 


Now, some years later, I wake up tired,  have a stomach from hell that won't go away, still have hot flashes, night sweats, mood swings occasionally, dress light at home with something cold always close at hand to drink. 

The only answer I had when my friend asked how long this was going to last was too dam long for me. And she agreed and laughed.

A Good Cry

I have been feeling physically pretty good for the most part lately. The hot flashes have been not as frequent as they had been in weeks past but I am knocking on wood that it stays that way at least for a day or two. But while hot flashes have decreased some stress has picked up where flashes left. I have been so stresses that my stress has stress. I have been crying more. For some reason I feel the need to just cry sometimes late at night when nobody can hear me. I hate crying in front of people. I never really have. So, I weep in private just because I need a good cry. 

Sometimes I just feel as if the weight of the world is on my shoulders or at least of my family. My mom is sick and she's like my backbone and when I need to make a hard decision I usually talk to her first. Or sometimes we just chat about nothing. I miss that. She lives with me and she's not here. I miss her. I even miss the dhit chat that she and my son do when I am trying to relax for a mini second and they are chattering to the top of their lungs. We have to travel across town to see her. I see her and realize just how much I really miss her. Then I feel the weight bof just trying to keep the house or apartment running. I have many days of trying to make a dollar out of fifteen cents. But, I always find a way cause that is what my mom did all her life she found a way. I got that from her. 

So, as I struggle with all the stress of my life and fan away my hot flashes, sip on water, and try to find my waist line again I sometimes just let it all out with a good cry and then pick myself up, wipe away the tears and move forward. Just move forward.

A Soap Opera

I was watching this soap opera today, yes, I do admit that on occasion I do watch the soaps when I have time and since my mom is not able to watch them right now I have been watching to keep her up to date. That's my story and I am sticking to it.  So,  on most of these soaps when the writers run out of ideas they always make some old woman, well, not old, old but long past her child bearing years, who most always have grown kids in their early to mid 20's, these women almost always end up getting pregnant by someone and they never know whom the someone is. It is like watching an episode of Maury of who is the father. But, this is supposed to be fiction. I have to keep that in mind when I see a woman who is older then me walking in to the doc saying that they think they are pregnant by either the father of their boyfriend, the boyfriend or some other person whom they had a one or two night stand with.

So, today in my memo haze I was watching this soap on TV with my window open to get some cool air. I had walked to the store earlier and came back in a sweat. You would have thought I was speed walking a marathon or something. Luckily I brought back something cold to drink. So, I am sitting there in my usual spot on my chair near the window and this woman who was in a coma for 24 years, I know typical soap opera drama, woke up and came back to the town her husband is in and of course the husband and his girlfriend broke up after the out of the coma wife comes to live him again and then three seconds later the wife and the husband are back in the sack. So, of course, I am thinking oh no another senior pregnancy is about to take place. But, this time I was shocked in a good way. When the doc came back into the room to deliver the news if the test was positive or negative they said that her blood test indicated that she was in menopause and couldn't have a child. Of course, the woman gets all upset screaming that she is too young. You would have thought she was 20 the way she was carrying on. So, I was glad that for once they got real. Of course, they didn't get all the way real since they do have a menopausal woman on the show playing pregnant. But, at least this time they came close to real life.

So, as I am sitting there sipping on my lemon water I silently shouted hooray in my head. But, I know that of course now some baby stealing will go on sooner or later. After all, it is a soap and a predictable one at that.

I fanned myself after it was over and took two more sips of water and then I turned on the real life  "Whose the daddy" soap opera, the Murray Show. Ok, I admit it when I want to watch something  that is crazy I turn him on and watch like ten minutes or so and then I am done back to my life, where I know who the daddy is and try to find something else to watch in between hot flashes and corn chips. Yep, got the corn chips from the store.

Full Circle

Today I experienced Motherhood at 76.  I visited my mom in the nursing home where she is recovering from a broken hip and hopefully will be returning home sometime this week. So, today the roles were sort of reversed. I took care of her and I was thinking this is how she probably took care of me when I was younger. I had to convince her to eat the lunch that they provided for her. Even though she complained that she didn't like the food because it was bland and tasteless, almost like I used to complain about not wanting to eat my vegetables when I was younger, I did manage to bribe her to take a few bites promising her dessert later. Yes, just like she used to do to me sometimes but her dessert was something like custard with a  crust not appealing to me or her but nonetheless she managed to scarf down a few tiny bites before she said she had had enough.  She also had enough of the bland ice tea that they served with it so I gave her some sprite instead which they said she could have.  Hot sprite beats bland ice tea any day in her book.

So, as my son was helping her manage the sprite, holding the straw in place for her and telling her to take tiny sips at a time I sat there and thought back to all the times I had told him the same exact thing when he was sick, which thank goodness was not that often, and now he was telling her and helping her when she is sick. He was also hovering like a "daddy bird" around her and wouldn't let her lift a muscle to do anything and was getting nervous when she tried to lean a little too forward in the wheel chair which she said was the most uncomfortable chair she had ever had the misfortune of sitting in. My son tested that out when she got back in bed for a short nap. He thought it was an awesome chair because it had wheels, that was no surprise to me.

I watched these two for a long time today, just watching and observing and thinking and by the time lunch was done and meds were taken and my mom was trying to rest in the mists of all the yelling in the halls, loud conversations, alarms going off, one of them hers, and all the hustle and bustle of these places, I came to realize that motherhood for me has come full circle.  I was a mom at 41 and my mom was a mom at 26. Since I don't have a daughter, I won't be able to watch her be a mom but I think that my son will make a darn good parent some day.

 

Riding HOT on the bus

I had a new adventure yesterday. My big adventure was riding the bus on a super warm day in the middle of menopause and hot flashes. I hadn't planned on taking two busses to get to one destination. But, sometimes you have to do what you have to do. Yesterday was one of those days.

I had to go and see my mom in the "skilled facility nursing home" as they call it. I see very few people with a lot of skills there, except for talking skills. But, there are some good people who work there and I am grateful for them. Since I don't drive nor have a car and usually get rides from my nephew it was a challenge for me yesterday when he was at work and there was nobody to give me a ride. I  thought briefly about calling a cab and when I called they said that it was $3 per mile but of course that didn't include traffic lights and stops so I figured that from here to there would be about 10-12 bucks. I calculated the amount of the money to take the bus for me and my son which would have been 2.10 for me and 1.05 for him which is one way. So, the question was did I have the inclination to catch a bus or money, money, money for a cab. I was sweating so much I decided to take a cab there and the bus back. The cab costs what I had expected almost $11 bucks for a few miles, I think like 3 miles but you have to include the traffic lights which I noticed at each light that meter went up 20 cents and when we were there he just had to turn the corner the meter went from $10 even to $10.90. I was not too happy about that but my hot flashes thanked me. We stayed and visited with my mom for a long time, as long as we could without my son getting too antsy trying to control his urge to take a ride on the wheelchair down the halls screaming look at me or something similar. He did sit in the chair when my mom was not in it and asked if he could pop a wheelie. My answer was a louder then usual NO!  I think they heard me in the hallways.

We were there for about 4 hours and then decided to leave after she fell asleep. We migrated to the bus stop about a couple of blocks away and waited for the bus and waited and waited. It said the next bus was in 18 minutes. 18 minutes turned into about 25 minutes sitting in the hot sun or standing in the hot shade. The first bus finally came. We hopped on and I tried to put the money in a machine that looked like the change machine at the laundry matt. The first two dollar bills no problem the last one kept spitting back to me and finally after about 4 tries it went in. It was stubborn dollar bill. I hadn't ridden the bus in about a year so I was not used to this new change.

But, the people were the same who rode the bus as I remembered them. Different faces but same attitudes. One guy accidently hit another guy with his backpack getting on the bus. The seats are so close together you almost have to be a size 0 to fit down the aisles without hitting anyone with your backpack, or hands. The seats are smaller then small. The guy apologized to the guy for accidently hitting him and apparently the guy was not in the mood for accepting apologies and said a few harsher then necessary words back and continued on his personal rampage for the next several minutes.

One older lady wanted a transfer that they don't give out anymore and settled on an all day pass that she said she didn't need but had no choice in buying and accused the bus company of being a bully. I secretly agreed and laughed in my head. She instructed the driver not to move the bus until she sat down and he didn't. I can't blame her though. Once the bus moves it is every person for themselves trying to grab something to hold on to as fast as some of them drive.  Some kids got on and I was expecting more of them but thank goodness only a few caught that bus. They sat there mostly taking selfies with their friends. They were all attached to their phones like third arms if they had them.

A hot, very hot as in I thought for a brief moment about taking off my shirt but I didn't want to get arrested and scare everyone on the bus to death. So, I removed my light jacket instead. I tied it around my waist and prayed that we would get to the next bus stop where I needed to get off and catch the next bus. I eventually made it to my next destination.

After seeing the Subway two feet from the last bus stop I need to be at I decided, or my stomach decided for me,  that it was time for something to eat. Never did I dream when I went in dripping with sweat that two foot long sandwiches, just that and a drink would cost almost $20. I think next time one foot long and sharing it with my son and no drink except the free water, which may or may not be free if not then nothing until we get home. I counted my dollar and change and put a couple more together for the bus which was scheduled to arrive in 20 minutes. I tried to find some shade to stand in but even still the hot flashes were relentless and I probably would still be hot in Alaska in the dead of winter. So, finally the bus came and another $3.15 left my pockets. But, the dollars and the machine cooperated this time. My son complained about I was smashing him in the tiny seats. I told him to hold on that we would be home in a few minutes. Actually, it took like 15 to our stop and we were both miserable. But, we had to suck it up and roll on the bus home.

By the time we got home I was tired and sweaty and just wanted to change out of my drenched shirt and rest. I did both. Go figure when I got home the flashes finally stopped coming every 4 seconds.

So, today, my nephew was off work. He took us back today and this time we stayed for the majority of the day until they fed everyone dinner. It was a long day but my mom did really well today with all the physical therapy and stuff they had her do. Her spirits were good and now hopefully, very soon our bus riding days to that place will be over. I know they will be over sooner then the hot flashes.

Taking off the Rose Colored Glasses

 As I get older I never really have thought about what that all means. I know that the number changes every year and the candles on the cake grow and they grow so much that you just don't want to set the cake on fire so you use the two numbers sometimes to make your age. I never really thought about what it is really like getting old. I guess I only concentrated in the moment and never really looked into the future too much. Aging never really bothered me at all. I would say oh it is just a number but I found out this week just how that number can affect your quality of life.

My mom had me when she was 25 a few months from her 26th birthday so she is going to be 76 on her birthday in October. I recently noticed her aging sort of slowing down in many ways. Walking slower, talking slower and more deliberately sometimes. Sometimes she would have to think a few more seconds to answer a question and I thought that is all a part of aging. I was thinking that in about 25 years give or take a year or two that I could be her, walking slower, hesitating more with my speech and getting a few more wrinkles and graying of the hair and thinner bones. She is a beautiful woman to me and always will be. Then something happened that scared me. She went to the hospital. She hates hospitals with a passion and anyone who knows her knows that. So, it was scary for me and her when that night I had to call 911 because I thought she was having a stroke. Unfortunately, I was right she had a small stroke but then she suffered another injury while in the hospital a broken hip.  I realized how fragile she is and how fragile life is. I realized that I can't take her for granted any more and just assume that she will be here for the next 5 or ten or fifteen years. I can't assume that she will see my son graduate from junior high or even high school in 8 years.  I think that my life and her life flashed right before my eyes that night as the paramedics loaded her into the ambulance and took her away.

Today I visited her at the nursing home where she is recovering from the hip. Today I saw an much older woman, a woman with more wrinkles and more lines from life that I had ever noticed before. I noticed her thinning hair and more grey hairs then before. I noticed her demeanor was not the same. Her laughter was gone. Her smile was gone. Her words were there but her memory was confused sometimes and she thought she was at home in the comfort of her own bed, watching her own television. She wanted her red sweater, the one she wears when she gets cold. She didn't want strangers parading in and out of her room, poking and prodding her like she was just a piece of meat. She didn't like sitting in a room that was not her own. She didn't like not waking up in her own bed in the mornings and eating her own breakfast not some tasteless food that is placed in front of you and if you eat it you eat it and if you don't they can care less and remove the food when your time was up. She doesn't like a time limit and wearing a diaper not being able to walk to the bathroom and having to look at her roommate using the portable potty in the corner of the room.  This is not her idea of spending one minute of her golden years in a room she doesn't recognize with people she doesn't know coming and going.

I had to be her voice today and I had to be a loud, bossy, bold voice today. I will always be her voice when she looses hers. I hope that she never does and when these dreadful two weeks are over by some little miracle she returns to us as good as she left us.

Now, I know what getting older is about. I have taken off my rose colored glasses today.

You are NOT ALONE

Hospitals are a place that I never want to go. I know that they are supposed to heal you, the doctors and nurses anyway but for the past 13 days my mom has been in the hospital and it was an and still is an experience that is driving me batty. She went to the hospital for one thing and during her stay at the hospital she fell and broke her hip so on top of the thing that she went there in the first place for she has to now deal with a hip replacement surgery that she didn't need until she came there. Not to mention the rehabilitation process at the skilled nursing facility, which in my opinion is a fancy word for nursing home. I don't have a good view of those either.

When I was younger we lived down the street from a nursing home. The sign on the outside of the building simply said "Nursing Home" no fancy name just that so you knew what it was  before you even went in. They were not leaving anything to your imagination. My sister and I used to passed it every time we went to the movies. The movie theater was across the street and the nursing home was right on the corner. So, you really couldn't miss it if you tried. I used to feel so sad for the people in there because they would sit near or by the window and they would look so sad all the time. It was like someone just pushed their collective wheelchairs to the window to let them look out at the world that they will never be a part of again. Nobody ever smiled always just sad faces. I used to smile and wave to them. I figured that was the least I could do and on Christmas I used to go there and hand out home made cards and little gifts, like socks and scarves. I couldn't afford much but I would save my allowance and later money from working over the summer when I was a teen. It made me sad that only a few of them had family that actually came to check on them on a weekly basis and the rest seemed to have been forgotten. I wanted them to feel like they had not been forgotten at least not by me.

That was my first impression of a nursing home and later my step grandmother had her mom in a nursing home for a while and then she brought her to live with her and my grandfather for the last few months of her life. I vowed from that day on that I would never put anyone I loved in a nursing home.

Now, my mom has to go to one for rehabilitation. I called this nursing home today and probably asked more questions then the law allowed but I had to. I had to know and tomorrow I have to see. I will be at the nursing home every day to check on my mom until she comes out in about 2 weeks. She will know that there is someone watching over her and that she is not alone. They will know it too.

I hope that if anything ever happens to me like this that my son will do the same for me. I never want anyone to be alone.

Switcharoo!

Yesterday vi was not in a good mood. I think it was meno hormones as I call them. Added to the fact I got like 2 minutes of sleep the night before. So I was "snippy" to people for most of the day and certainly was not in the mood for my son to beg and plead for a PSP anything. I tried to calmly explain to him in between hot flashes and joint pains that he wasn't getting one it was not in our budget. But, kids will be kids and he didn't stop asking until I raised my voice. He then understood. My mom on the other hand didn't.

She decides that my raised voice was too much for her delicate ears and grabbed her purse, coat and my brother and decided she was taking a walk. Now, my mom has lost sight in one eye, not completely but some, and her walking any where has become more then a notion as she would say. Not too mention her bad knee. But, she was determined to be senior wonder woman even after I protested loudly. I offered to go with her but it was determined I was the one she wanted to get a break from.

I watched from the window as they disappeared from sight. I prayed all was well. But, I had a sinking feeling it wasn't. I decided to look for them after about 13 minutes and I found my brother trying to help her home. I grabbed her other arm, my son grabbed her purse and off we went homebound. As I figured her knee wouldn't let her walk far and neither would her eye. 

So, in that moment she reminded me of her mother, my grandmother. I remember my mom taking a walk similar to this one about ten years ago when the parent turned into the mom. I asked myself silently that question if I was now going to switch roles with my mom and mother her. 

The good, bad, ugly, unexpected...

This week I feel like the walking dead. I haven't slept well at all this week and it didn't help any that my son decided to become a summer night owl. When I do doze off for what feels like a catnap and wake up due to night sweats or a feeling that my son is not in his bed where he's supposed to be it makes days a whole lot longer. 

But that hasn't been the only thing keeping me up, as if it weren't enough. I have been on another journey. This is another part of lifes journeys a part that everyone has to do at least once. I have been trying to find a place to move to. That journey gives me the sweats just thinking about it. Last month a for sale sign occupied the lawn on the side of the building for about a month. I have been trying to move for months but in my college city which I assume most landlords think students must be the richest people on the planet judging by what they are asking for rents and deposits this is by far no easy move to make. I never thought in my middle age I would be sweating in this apartment in this neighborhood. Yet, here I am.

So, there's the night sweats, the hormones, the hot flashes, the headaches and my piece of mind that has gone fishing, I now get bad news which comes in white and manilla envelopes in the mail almost daily.  I cringe when the mail comes. A management change for this place has me doing a tail spin and I have no control over it. Much like I feel I have no control over my aging body now. 

Well, through sweat and tears I am on this journey for a while. All of it, the good, bad, ugly, and unexpected. 

Cool Shirts

I can't remember the last time I wore a long sleeve shirt. Although I really never really cared for sleeves it has been a very long time since I wore one. When the hot flashes started I really put any long sleeved shirts in retirement. 

So, today my mom hands me one of her many catalogs that seem to arrive in the mail box daily. I took it flipped through it and my mom said oh there are some nice blouses and shirts in there hinting in s not so subtle way that I should perhaps more shirts other then my sleeveless regulars I wear daily. Maybe she's tired of looking at me wearing the same type of shirts or maybe she's tired of looking at my chubby arms whatever the case may be she folded over certain pages for me to look at. Ten pages total all long sleeves. 

I tried to explain to her that 99% of the time my body temperature is hot due to menopause.  She just sort of smiled and asked did I see the purple blouse on page 13. I know she heard me tell her about menopause but I guess her generation never really talked about it and she wasn't about to start now. 

I told her maybe after the summer I would take another look when it the weather got cooler. Who knows maybe I will be cooler too. 

Kool

It's funny in a way how some night's I am fine. No drenching night sweats or anything. Just a couple hot flashes and the rest of the night is a piece of cake. I have had what I call a almost normal week of no drenching night sweats and I was feeling pretty good. I slept well and no urges for ten afternoon naps.  I was almost feeling ten years younger, OK maybe 2 but still. 

Then it happened. I knew it would. The drenching night sweats game back.  I woke up and my hair looked and felt like I just got of the shower and washed it. I wiped my hair, fave and neck with a towel and for a brief moment thought about getting out the hair dryer putting it on a low setting and drying my hair. But I knew the noise of the dryer would wake everyone else up or at least one person would wake up and look at me like I had lost my mind drying my hair at 2am so I tip toed to the kitchen instead and got a glass of cherry kool aid. I did turn the TV on low and found a show I had never seen before. This show was before my time. And there aren't too many shows I can say that about. It was called The Bachelor Father. It was pretty good. So, after episodes of that show and two more episodes of Bewitched, a show not before my time, I felt drowsy and figured that my date , the sandman finally showed up. 

A few hours later I woke up not drenched in sweat again almost cool, or what has become the normal cool for me and ready to start my day, cherry kool aid in hand.

Late Night TV

I think I slept all of two minutes last night in spite of going to bed early.  I woke up sweating like I had run two marathons and a decathlon. So, after my usual couple of trips to the kitchen in search of something cold to drink I was thinking I needed a fridge in my room to save me time. So, after drinking my unusually tall glass or ice water, usually a short mug does the trick, I sank back into my bed, fluffed the pillows and turning them over to the cool side I turned on the TV. I was glad that my son decided to put it there a couple weeks ago in spite of my objections that it would just take up more of what little space I had in the bedroom. Last night I was glaf for this one time he didn't listen.

So, since I don't have cable in there just an antenna I only got 60 channels which sounds like a lot until you realize about half are in languages I don't understand. But, I managed to find 3 late night westerns, 4 movies I had seen before and didn't care to watch again, a million info commercials and several old shows I threw up watching. I stayed on that channel. I watched the Alfred Hitchcock's mystery shows, or whatever they were called, and a actually enjoyed them more this time around.  So, a couple hours later and another half glass of water and a couple trips to the bathroom I was ready to turn off the TV and try again for the sandman to revisit me but this time keep the hot flashes to himself. 

I slept in a cool slumber for the next 6 hours. Until I started my day with a cold glass of water and an omlet. 

New Relationship

I was just laying in bed wide awake at 4 am starring into the darkness of the room except for the twinkling lights of the Christmas lights that I have on. Yep, Christmas in July. Not really I thought it would be a better and more colorful then an ordinary night light since I now wake up a few times per night in a sweat to get water. I figured I needed some light to light my path a little after I stubbed my toe twice on the bed and door and stepping on leggos and two tiny action figures. It was time for something. 
So, while lying there procrastinating about making the short trip to the kitchen I was thinking about something that happened earlier that blew my mind. I met a guy about 7 years ago. I was just on MySpace when it was popular and we started chatting. He was a lot younger and I never thought we would be more then friends. Just friends. So, over the years we have kept in touch and I have caught up with him and discussed his life and my ever changing life.  Then last week he shocked me and  asked if I had ever thought of dating. Me, in my menopausal state of mind, told him yes if I ever found someone. He laughed. I asked what was so funny. So, he told me he was talking about himself. It was a good thing we weren't video chatting because I think not only did I get hot on my face I am pretty sure I turned three shades of beet red. So, I grabbed a paper towel wiped my face and was totally speechless. I knew he liked older women but I never thought he would be interested in me. A fact he found shocking.

So, after I explained to him again about how my life is so different from 7 years ago, as I was thinking he must have amnesia and forgot all the hot flash and corn chip cravings I told him about. He assured me he remembered. And he was alright with it. And had I forgotten about the movies when he was there with me and I had ten in a row, that's not accurate, but it felt like it, and me and him laughed about it. 

I thought long and hard about this potential relationship and took a sip out of a can of hot, flat sprite on my bedside table and at 9 am when I woke up again I sent him a text. Just one word and I knew we both would be on a new adventure together. 

Random Conversations

Everybody has a story about their life and today while in a waiting a waiting room I heard several. Some were told directly to me and others I overheard mostly from cell phone conversations. It never ceases to amaze me how loudly folks talk on cell phones in public and private. 

I was sitting just waiting for my turn.  One woman was chatting with another about her life. One was probably a decade  older then the other. The story teller was probably mid 50's and had long black shoulder length braids which reminded me of how my mom used to comb my hair when I was young. She only had on light pink lipstick and as far as I could tell no other traces of make up. She sat across from the listener who was from another country and spoke 5 languages fluently and had lived in 3 countries before coming to the United States 10 years ago. Her oldest child was 30 and her youngest 5 years old. I found that fascinating since this woman didn't look a day over 40. So, I thought she must be older then the story teller. I had it wrong. The story teller said she was homeless for a while living on the streets and most people she encountered while living on the streets were not nice people. She told her stories of abuse, rape and how motherhood didn't change her for the better when she had her first baby as a very young adult. She said she had this little one with absolutely no mothering instincts she just wanted her life back the way it was. She was too young and too immature to be a mom but she laid down with someone she hardly knew and a few months later she found out she was pregnant. They married briefly and after a year were divorced. 

The listener chimmed in and said she had 8 kids. Four were grown and four weren't. Her husband left her soon after her last baby was born. She told happy stories about her kids and her country and sad stories too. But, she said she's grateful for her kids and to be a new citizen of the USA. 

The next conversation was between a young mother and a grandmother who was taking care of her 6 month old granddaughter whom she affectionately called Peep. The young mom said she hadn't had a planned pregnancy and her boyfriend figured out she was pregnant before she did. The grandmother found it funny and laughed a hearty laugh that filled the room. The young mom laughed too and went on about how hard raising a baby is but she loved it and her boyfriend proposed to her last week. But, she said she wanted to wait a while before marriage since she's only known him for a year. The grandmother seemed pleased about her decision to wait. The grandmother's name was called and off she went pushing her granddaughter in the huge brown stroller. 

Another woman was fanning herself and said to me she was going through menopause and was trying to get through that hot flash she was having. She flipped a piece of her apple red hair from her face and pulled it back into a ponytail to get it off her neck. She said she was having bad hot flashes all day. I told her I knew exactly how she was feeling. We laughed together and chatted about hot flashes and weight gain and dollar store bought fans which we each have.

Today was a day of conversations. And a day of bonding with strangers. And the best part was there was a cool breeze blowing when I walked outside again. 

Knock on Wood!

I am knocking on wood right about now because to my very happy surprise I haven't had but 1-3 hot flashes during the day for the last week. Usually I have a trillion per day, or it seemed like that.  But its been all good. Although, I still keep my little fan near me at all times and my cold drink glass is never less then half full it does feel good not to have needed them much these 7 days. I have been doing more on my stepper and trying to eat less sugar, OK besides those cupcakes that all the willpower in the world didn't work on. But, at the store yesterday I passed up the cake and doughnut aisles with pride. I got yogert instead.I figured it was a bit healthier and would tame my craving for something sweet. Although, that Carmel popcorn aisle did look pretty good. 

So, on the 4 th  of July while listening to the pop, pop, pop of the illegal neighborhood fireworks and firecrackers half the night and watching from the living room window the legal fireworks show at the marina instead of munching on something like a chocolatey goodness cupcake, I had some yummy strawberry and banana yogert. I was proud of myself. 

A good Day At Last!

I was sitting in my chair just minding my own business waiting for the termite inspectors who the landlord was going to send over to check for termites and feeling pretty good. I was feeling pretty good because all day I was hot flash free. I was shocked but loving it all at the same time. I even compilated wearing something other then a tank top and something with sleeves for a brief second. That was just a fleeting thought though because I knew in a matter of time at some point today my not so friendly flashes would return from their short vacation. 

I was even more pleasantly surprised when the inspector's arrived and inspected for all of 6 minutes and nothing. I was almost ready to do the happy dance. It was a good day. The best day of the month. OK, it is only the first day of the month, but hey, I am just happy it started out good. 

I ate the chocolate doughnut that was the last of my chocolatey goodness for a while. And still I was on top of the moon. Yes, the moon cause the sun is hot. I was smiling all day. I made it all the way up to 7:23 pm without a flash. I had one at 7:24pm. A quick one that didn't last over a few minutes. I cheered for myself silently and got a glass of cold water over ice. It was a good day!

Chocolatey Goodness

I now know eating a yummy chocolate doughnut twenty minutes before bed time is a very bad idea for me. I did my nightly routine of doing my stepper and lifting my 5 pound weights for as many repetitions as my sore arms could do which wasn't much. All that moving stuff around for the handyman painter wore me out and made muscles sore. Muscles I didn't know I had.  Then I saw it. Sitting on the table, one lonely big chocolate doughnut just sitting and if it could talk it would probably say something like come on and eat me you know I am delicious. And if it had eyes it would be winking. 

I repeatedly told myself that I didn't want that chocolatey goodness that I was now craving badly. I said in my head I didn't really need it but if I do a few more steps on the stepper and possibly trying to do some yoga from my yoga books that for the most part have been collecting dust then maybe that chocolatey awesome doughnut   wouldn't be a bad think. Then I said no just walk away. 

Since starting my journey I have had more chocolate then the law allows sometimes. Sometimes I even dream of chocolate fountain's. So, it didn't surprise me that 20 minutes before bedtime I was munching that tempting doughnut and wishing I had more. 

I can only assume that it was too much sugar too late and I couldn't go to sleep as much I tried and as much as I hoped the sand man would visit me before midnight it didn't happen. I silently cursed my chocolate doughnut, yes I blamed the chocolate doughnut. Although I knew better in my rational mind but I didn't feel like being rational with my sleep deprived mind. All I wanted was at least 5 good hours of sleep. Without waking up ten times sweat pouring from my face and neck. 

I finally got my visit from the sandman around 2 am and then he left me and I woke up hot and sweating 4 hours later. Oh well, such is life, or my life these days. I consider myself blessed for still having a life period. ( with no periods) :-) 

What A Week!

When my week began Monday I had not planned to move furniture from one room to the next and back and forth for 2 days. Nor did in plan to sweat like ten pigs doing it or waking up dripping with sweat before I got one foot out of bed. But that all happened and more.

On Wednesday I get a call and when I looked at the caller ID I was not looking forward to speaking with the caller. I listened to my landlord saying he was going to send the handyman who I have no clue to what he says because he had a thick accent and now has acquired a new habit of mumbling. The landlord was sending him to do two things, paint the kitchen and the front room and put down carpet in the hall and front room. I was not looking forward to doing more cleaning and moving furniture then I could possibly imagine in doing in 48 hours. Nor did I plan on being sleep deprived and grumpy for two days. 

I was told the handyman would paint on Thursday and carpet Friday.  All this would start at 8 am Thursday morning.  So, on Thursday morning after a restless night of night sweats and walking to the kitchen trying not to trip over things that were moved in almost total darkness my mom comes to my room at 6 am and asks when the handyman was coming. I mumbled 8am with half closed eyes. I pulled the covers over my head and hoped Mr. Sandman would come back. I had no such luck. I laid there for an hour. Covets on, covers off. I decided it was no use. I got out of bed and showered and got dressed. I left the TV hooked up to the cable box until he came. I didn't want to look at the 4 unpainted walls while I was waiting. It was going to be a long wait. Eight o'clock game and went and so did nine o'clock. I called the landlord and an hour later a knock on the door it was the dancing handyman. My brother and nephew took the TV in the other room and I disconnected all the cable wires. I then regretted I didn't have the foresight to put cable in my room. But, I thought bit would give me an opportunity to read this book I had wanted to read for a year. 

I sat on my bed and literally read two sentences before I was interrupted. My mom was having soap opera with drawls and wanted to watch a movie. I wanted to read. So my son put on a movie for her. So we munched on chips, soda, and occasionally water and watched the almost 3 hour movie. Two more hours later and two bags of chips later my mom as antsy. I was hot again and grumpy. I checked on his progress. He was on a break. 

One movie later and after we were all chipped and soda out it  was time for the handyman to pack up for the day. He said what time should he come back the next day. I said 9 am. And held up nine fingers for good measure. He nodded. He returned at 9:40. I as happy. Not bad. He brought his son with him to help and translate. I was more then happy. 

Eight hours and more junk food then I had ever  ever thought I would eat in eight hours he was done. I was over the moon happy. 
I was not happy about moving stuff back and forth and back again. Nor was I happy about the massive amount of junk I had consumed or the hot flashes or the stiff knees and sore arms.  But I as over joyed that I was not going to have to move anything until I move out of here for good. 

Looking Like A Drowned Rat!

I was thinking to myself earlier as I was scrambling to clean up some before the landlord "stopped" by that judging by how drenched in sweat I was I must have sweated off at least 5 pounds with these crazy hot flashes. I was ridiculously dripping with sweat, my hair looked like I has washed it dripping on the back of my neck and so did my face. Anything that resembled make up, the little I had decided to use today because I thought I looked a little pale, was sweated off quickly. 

I stood in my kitchen washing the last of the dinner dishes that my nephew had neglected to notice last night more sweat poured from my face and I was using luke warm water. Wiping off the fridge and the stove only heated me up more. I looked like a drowned rat. My son looked at me like I had the cooties and couldn't understand why I was sweating like I had ran a marathon doing dishes. I couldn't explain it either so I didn't try today. Instead I told him to vacuum the front room.  

So, my always early or late landlord comes 35 minutes early and bangs on the door like I am hard of hearing too. I didn't have time to change my shirt or wash my face so I just opened the door in all my glory of looking like I just lost a wet tee shirt contest. Thank goodness I had on navy blue so nothing showed that I didn't want or need to show anyone.
He looked perplexed for a second and asked if he could see the kitchen. I sort of knew this day would come when he would show up needing a tour of the apartment when he dog out a portion of the lawn to put his annual for sale outside. I guess he thought the magic fairies changed the kitchen from 3 months ago when he last saw it. So, he briefly looks around and said he needed to replace a loose cabinet door and would send his handyman whom has a heavy accent that is totally not understandable to me. I said fine and he left.

Finally, I thought a chance to change, wash my face and sip some cold water or something cold and wet. I barely got my face washed and my shirt changed and hair tied back and rung out literally before the next hot flash and visitor. 

It was the handyman. He fixed the cabinets and called the landlord informing him he was here. I sipped more water and prayed this flash would pass in record time cause this drowned rat look was getting old. 

After the worst hot flash ever I am not looking forward to tomorrow when Mr. Handyman comes back to paint. I sort of
Knew that was coming too since this place was not painted before we moved in 6 years ago, 6 long years, and 4 too many. I am hoping for NOT a repeat of today especially since I now have to shift everything around in two rooms. 

Stay tuned....as they say in the movies.

Craving

Lately I have been having cravings for peanut butter and corn chips. Two of my friends said they have too. I call them meno cravings. So, needless to say last week while doing the weekly shopping at the grocery store I was craving something sweet with peanut butter. I made a mental note to go down the aisle I try to avoid' the candy aisle. But, I was thinking a resses  peanut butter cup. Something along those lines. 
So, while in the dairy aisle looking for the butter that was on sale there was something that caught my eye near the eggs. Before I could see the whole box my son picked it up and came back to the cart and me a few steps away. My eyes got bigger then his and I knew for once I wouldn't tell him to put it back and him giving me the evil eye because he had to. 

It was a yellow box, golden yellow filled with something peanut buttery. Little Debbie's peanut butter nutty bars. I was happy he found them. He was surprised I was happy at one of his food discoveries. 

A little while later we were home with two golden boxes. OK, they were on sale and I was on full craving mode. I opened that box as soon as I found it in one of our red reusable bags. They were delicious. I think this is going to be my new favorite peanut butter snack. And of course my non peanut butter snack, corn chips. I have  already added these to my shopping list for this week. 

Missed

The other day I got a text from my friend. Honestly, I never though I would be texting more then actually talking non the phone like back in what my son calls the ancient days. I remember the time when there was only one landline phone in the house and everyone shared that one phone. In my teenage years I had to be off the phone for the night and only could speak for 30 minutes at a time. 

So, anyway, I got the text that said "I miss you." I smiled when I read it. It did make me think about the old days when there was no texting and they would have had to call me on the landline to say hello. I kind of miss those days. 

I don't miss my mom yelling at me to the top of lungs at 9:55 I had 5 minutes to get off the phone and always the person I was talking to heard and we both were embarrassed. Those were the days.

 Today, I keep a glass of something cold by my side almost always, something to fan myself with or a fan and a light jacket to put on if I get cold in my short sleeves shirt or tank tops which have become a permanent and necessary part of my wardrobe. 

Through all of this it was nice to be missed. So, I sipped the cold Pepsi in my glass and turned on my little fan. I then picked my phone back up and replied to the text. 

Yes, it is REALLY nice to be missed .