So I've pretty much been on a writing hiatus for a little over a week. I have been stuck in my hormonal zone again. You think after all these years that the hormones would let up after a certain age.
But NoooooooOOOOOoooooo!
Somewhere in the 40-something range, they decide to kick in for one last hurrah that last for another several years until..... BAM, everything stops and you age about 15 years overnight. By that time if some random body part has not sagged to your ankles yet, then this is the time that it does. Whoever coined the stupid phrase that your forties are the new thirties must have been male or either had every crucial female part surgically removed before they were 30.
I like the fact that I have to still deal with everyday life while a rather large black cloud follows me everywhere I go. I have fallen way below being pessimistic during this time. To me, it feels like the world will literally blow up in a matter of hours. This is why I no longer watch the news. Hell, I was bawling like a girlie man while watching the complete unravelling of a somewhat happy family on "Jon and Kate Plus Eight", the other night. I went into my bathroom afterwards and continued to cry while managing to balance on the edge of the tub, cause my balance just sucks these days.
Of course my absolutely wonderful kids are following me around constantly asking if I'm alright and if they can do anything for me. "Yes!", I say. "Remove these stinking hormones from my body!", I plea. You know I am completely stupid if I am asking my kids to remotely understand anything to do with hormones. In fact, I'm scaring the shit out of my soon-to-be 12 year old daughter. She completely loathes what's in store for her no matter how much I try to make a joke of the fact that mini/maxi pads always feel like your walking around with a wad of toiled paper strapped to your hoo-hoo.
But regardless of what is happening with me and the chemical cocktail oozing throughout every cell in my body; there is a life to live here. Not just mine, but five others in the house as well. This is why the other cliche' "Supermom" came about. It was a mother's ability to still raise a family while her natural body functions were completely out of control every month for one to two weeks at a time. Let's see some male - any male - do THAT!
So on my to-do list is getting the twins ready for sixth grade when they haven't even finished fifth yet. Does this sound as crazy as my hormones or what!? I have to attend a meeting at the middle school when I would rather be dressed in my sweats and making mounds of homemade macaroni and cheese and eating it in my closet. I get dressed up and muster up some excitement to hear about what they'll be involved with next year. My little babies are so growing up way too fast.
Well, add black cloud number two to my life as I sneak into the back after being so fashionably late (husband was late coming in from work). For the next hour I become consumed with budget cuts, teacher cuts, program cuts, club cuts, the fact that there is only one art teacher left for 200+ students, and the states top rated band instructor is retiring and "hopefully" there will be someone who can pick up where she's left off.
I feel like an ostrich that wants to stick their head in the closest sandpit in order to hide from all this. I was really disappointed until I saw my next door neighbor and she said that they were actually not going to loose that much. Apparently, budget loss went from $10 million to $2 million, and no one thought to inform anyone conducting the meeting about this very large change.
I see a little ray of sunshine emerge suddenly.
I was all set to pull the kids out of school and start them on a vigorous routine of homeschooling until I saw her. Common sense finally kicked in as I decided to wait it out a bit before jumping into something so completely NUTS at this point of my life!
But then the next few days become nothing more than making lists for what the kids need for school in August. WAIT! What happened to summer vacation? It hasn't even started and I'm making school supply lists for the 2009-2010 school year. There are school supplies to buy, gym clothes to purchase, and band instruments. Oh, didn't I tell you that part. The twins want to take band. Luckily, I prepared for Nadia and bought her a flute a couple of years ago. But Julian wants to play the Tenor Saxophone, so I'm suppose to cough up $1800 stinking dollars as if I just happen to have it laying around in my gold plated freaking bathroom with diamond encrusted faucets!
"It will only cost you $80 for the rest of your son's memorable middle school years for this wonderful musical instrument.", the music store director tells me.
"Does it lay magical golden eggs that I can sell in order to feed my family if he gets it?", I ask the goofy smiling musical store director with hedgehog-like hair.
This is why people become stinking alcoholics!!
On top of it all, the husband decides we need to move to Montgomery. I laughed so hard on the phone that my chair slips out from under me (yes, it's on wheels), and I fall off to the right, knocking the trash can over in the process. Nia thinks I've finally emerged from my hormonal stage and is playing some game in which she joins in and starts tossing wadded pieces of paper in the air.
"Play mommy, let's plaaaay!", she squeals as she's bouncing around the room as paper is flying everywhere. Mommy is laying in the floor still laughing while her bladder, completely uselss after birthing four watermelons, is about to burst.
He's serious though, because the economy in this area is in reeeeeeally bad shape. 12 major restaurants closing, countless other food and retail establishments closing or already closed, and an economy whose main industry is construction - and we know that no one is building diddily these days! No one is hiring; everyone is laying off, so starting up a new business is.... well, quite challenging at the least. He figures it's best to throw in the towel and move closer to what he's already got going.
Suddenly, an extreme burst of anger emerges from me. It is so strong that the raging hormones go fleeing to..... well, wherever they go. I'm no longer hormonal, I am flat out pissed! He wants me to give an answer in about 30 seconds flat, about moving. I begin to remark my objections and he comes out with something stupid like "You're being so neeegaaaative!"
Negative this - I hung up on him and refused to answer his phone calls for the rest of the day. I fumed, I paced, I cried (again - I know, it's getting old), I ranted, then I finally sat down and decided to write him a long email:
Dear Husband,
No! We are NOT moving. Get over it!
Sincerely,
Your Wife
So today, everything is great. I'm getting my raised box gardens together. Went on a fabulous bike ride this morning with Nia. The sun is shining and the breeze is blowing through the old moss covered oaks that line our streets. The air smells fresh of salt from the sea.
Nia is busy separating pennies from dimes, from nickels in the floor beside me and I can breathe a sign of relief that we're staying put and my life will be normal until..... 28 days from now.
