Fanning Granny...Whew!

NO, this guy's picture has absolutely NO connection to my blog entry today, none whatsoever...but I was looking for a picture that related, and saw this guy, Wentworth Miller from Prison Break, and he looks so hot, I thought I'd share....

Had an interesting trip to the doctor. He did the FSH test to see where I am in menopause. The last two times he's done this, he said I was in PRE-menopause. This test says I'm POST-menopause. I'd like to know how you go from PRE to Post without actually being at just plain ol' menopause. I thought that was funny.

Then I came home and it hit me. MENOPAUSE! I remember when Erma Bombeck said her age was somewhere between menopause and death, and now I'm there, too. Of course, my doctor reassures me that with medical technology advancing and people taking better care of themselves with things like blood pressure medicine, less fat in our diets (Granny cooked everything with LARD), and managing cholesterol, the life expectancy is increasing. He said I might even live to 100.

As bad as my memory is right now, I'd surely have lost my marbles completely by then, and just sit around smacking my gums together and driving my kids nuts. Don't know if a hundred would be all that much fun to be.

Actually today is the first day I've really honestly thought of myself as getting OLD. I mean I turned fifty, and I realized then that wasn't young, but it didn't really HIT me until he said "postmenopause." No good hormones anymore, no babies, non-working ovaries, memory going to hell (which he assures me will improve when my brain adjusts to the difference in the hormone level). Then I thought well...can't do anything about it, so not much use in worrying about it. I remember Granny saying at 89, after refusing a surgery her doctor had recommended, that she had lived a good life and didn't care about doing anything that drastic to prolong it. Maybe I'll feel that way by then, who knows.

Right now, the thought of DYING and leaving my children and soon-to-be grandchildren is awfully scary. Other women seem to be able to wrap their brain around all this and carry on, so I will, too. Fun, fun.

And it seems that menopause has brought on some other problem..which I won't go into now, but we have a hereditary disease in our family that is brought on in women by menopause and I show some signs of it on this last blood work. I have more tests to have, and if it turns out to be anything major, I'll pass it on. BTW, this disease is very treatable when caught early, if that's what it is.

Now for the one thing I wasn't sure I would address, because of the fact my daughter reads this blog, but it's such a big deal to me right now, and this is where I do my venting, I decided to just go for it and be really honest....
My children's father has only had contact with the youngest one in many, many years. My daughter has seen her father maybe twice since she was fifteen. I won't go into all the details, as I'm sure they are in some old blog entry (or several) but now that she's expecting, she's going to meet him for dinner. One part of me said great, maybe he's changed and he will actually add something to her life and the baby's. But the part of me that I denied woke me up at two in the morning in tears, and I didn't understand it. I vented in an email with Cathy, and she was very reassuring. Then I saw the counselor this week, and she helped me process it. I'm angry that I raised these kids alone, with no help from him, and then he waltzes back in and plays Grandpa. I'm afraid that he'll hurt her somehow. I'm jealous of the him having any time with her after the way he's treated her (and me, and her brothers), and upset that it might take away from the relationship she and I have. The therapist said you have to tell her how you feel, not to put a guilt-trip on her, not to talk her out of anything, just so you can get this out and be honest and not have this between the two of you. Also, I would actually allow myself to feel this and not stuff it and eat two boxes of Little Debbie Swiss Cake Rolls next week because of it. So I told her, and we talked it out, and I feel much better about her seeing him now.
As far as the house goes, I'm kicking butt with the cleaning and decluttering. I guess the anti-depressants actually are working, and so I keep popping them daily. I open the windows in the morning to let in sunlight. I get dressed every morning. I even get up early to spend time with my husband before he leaves for work. And I have a lot more energy and drive to do things. I'm even going with him to a PARTY with people I don't KNOW this weekend. If I make it through that without hiding in the closet or faking a heart attack to get out of it, then I'll know I'm actually done with depression. Thank God. Literally.
Well that's all the news. Sometimes I think this has to be the most boring blog around, but ya'll keep reading, and I keep writing. Thanks!!

Sidetracked Waylaid Home Executive

I made a decision to get going around here, stop procrastinating and get this place cleaned out and cleaned up. I quit the cleaning lady. It's too easy to ignore things that are piling up when the house smells like Pine Sol. I hate my house, and that in itself should be a sign things have gotten really bad. Oh Yes, I realize I've said this before. That's why I waited until Friday to post this, to see how much of what I wanted to get done actually got done.
I'm happy to report, I feel great about my progress so far. I took some things I learned from the Sidetracked Home Executive sisters, as far as dividing my cleaning up to daily chores, weekly chores, monthly, etc. I took the idea from Flylady.com to also assign each week to a certain room of my house, so that week besides my regular cleaning, I also spend extra time decluttering, tossing, and organizing that one room.
My biggest hurdle this week was not getting everything done on my list for a certain day. I realized when it comes to giving myself things to do, I am a perfectionist, and this week I realized that's a crock. I gave myself permission to do what I can, and not have to make excuses or feel bad for what didn't get done. I mean if I'm making progress, I'm doing fine. If I spend time cleaning out a drawer a day, or a cabinet, or the top of the dresser, I'm eventually going to have everything done I want done.
Now getting rid of things was a problem for me, not because I hate to toss. In fact, I love tossing and usually go overboard when I declutter and get rid of things I probably should have kept and later buy again. But....I feel better leaning on the side of overdoing decluttering since my husband falls on the underdoing side big time. Well, I like to take that stuff I don't want and throw it in garbage bags and put it out for the trash man. My husband freaks over this. He says it's GOOD stuff and even if don't want it, someone should be able to make use of it. So he says we should donate this stuff to our local thrift store. Sounds good in theory. I gather, he promises to drop it off. Then after a couple of months, I happen to be with him when I buy groceries, and open his trunk to find all the last three month's toss outs still stashed there, because he never got around to taking it to the thrift store. This drives me nuts folks. Gone from the house to the car is not decluttering to me . Not by a long shot.
Well this time I called my friend that has all the kids and is going through the divorce. I asked if she's like to have the stuff I'd be taking to the thrift store. She said she'd take EVERYTHING I wanted to get rid of. I told her fine, take it, sell it, throw it out, give it away, whatever. I don't care once it leaves my house. She agreed to come by and pick it up each day BEFORE my husband gets home from work. ha. It's much better for his nervous system and our marriage if he doesn't see what goes.
This week, I've gotten my house clean, cleaned out some drawers, baskets, nooks and crannies (what's a crannie?) and my house already looks much better. I'm pleased and looking forward to doing more next week. I'm actually beginning to enjoy the sense of pride I USED to feel for having a cleaned up, straightened house. I also like having "to do" lists, because at least I know I have a plan, even if it's flexible. I even took some of my clothes to the consignment shop, and next week plan to box up books to donate to the library. I'm also getting those "I should move the furniture" and "I should redecorate, paint, buy curtains" yearnings. Martha Stewart I will never be. But that's ok. I wouldn't look good in that color of prison green.

Cruise Pictures

Me and the Statue of Some Dead Dude






















My son had a good time, see?


















View from the glass sided boat we went on.

Oh Geez, Louise!

I saw the counselor today and had a few "ah-ha" moments, so thought I would blog about them. I discussed the cruise with her and how I really enjoyed all of it except dinner each night, because the women at our table were so loud and "in your face" and I felt very uncomfortable most of the time. Also, they asked very personal questions, got in my face to talk, and had too much to drink. I told her I dreaded dinner each evening, and felt uncomfortable with them, but other than that, the cruise was great. She asked what I would have done had my son told me he dreaded dinner because of the other people at our table, that he felt very uncomfortable, and that he wasn't enjoying that part of the cruise. I said I would have asked for us to be moved to another table. She said, "But you wouldn't do that for yourself. You would take care of him, but not YOU." I told her I was afraid that moving would hurt other people's feelings. She said, "So you take care of THEM, who you don't know and are not responsible for, but not YOU." I said there and thought, "Duh! She's right."

She suggested I journal every day and one of the things I should write about is situations where I felt very uncomfortable, or where someone put me down, or invaded my space, or violated boundaries, and then write what I thought I should have said, or would have if I had thought of it and had no fear. I guess she believes I need some safe practice in being more assertive.
I left there today feeling like I got my money's worth, for sure.
Now, I'm dreading going to work tomorrow at my volunteer job, to collect my plant, and tell them I don't want to do that anymore. Yes, I worry what they will think, what they will say.
I also decided that I needed to clean my own house for awhile, so that I can really get some things cleaned out as I go, and instead of calling the cleaning lady and telling her, I took the chicken way out and wrote her a freaking email! Can you believe what a WIMP I am? It's embarrassing considering my AGE. Geez.
But hey, at least I am starting to realize what I'm doing.

Don't Step on a Duck

We got home from our cruise last night. My middle son went with us, to celebrate his college graduation. He had never been on a cruise and did not know what to expect, but he really seemed to enjoy himself. We ate way too much and spent way too much, but my son actually was up $200 after a week at the casino. I really think I could be a compulsive gambler if I was rich enough to get started at it, which is scary.
We had dinner assignments at a large table of women in their 60's and 70's, and boy! Did those women like to talk! It was non-stop for a week, I think. Of course, they were doing some drinking before coming to dinner each night, and the alcohol helped them loosen up a bit. One even told jokes, like this one:
Three single women die and go to heaven. When they get there, Saint Peter tells them to come on in. They look around and see that heaven is just FULL of ducks, with ducks running everywhere. Saint Peter tells them to go enjoy themselves, but whatever they do, don't step on a duck!
After a week, the first women accidently steps on a duck. God appears with this ugly little troll of a man and says, "He will be your husband for eternity" and off they go together.
The other women see this, and they get very careful, but after another month, the second woman accidently steps on a duck. Again, God appears with an ugly little troll man and says, "He will be your husband for eternity."
The last woman really freaks out this time, and she watches every step she takes. For six months, she has not stepped on a duck. God appears to her with this tall, handsome, hunk of a man and says, "He will be your husband for eternity!" She can't believe her good fortune, turns to her new husband and says, "Wow, you're gorgeous. What did I do to deserve this?" He replies, "I don't know what you did, but I stepped on a duck."
I'm seriously considering quitting my volunteer job I took on. The good thing about being a volunteer is how much you feel appreciated. The bad side is they give you all the crappy jobs no one else wants to do. However, I plan to go by and get my plant from my office and let them know.
I guess we'll spend our weekend catching up on all the television shows we missed but Tivo'd. (Is Tivo'd a word? If not, it should be.) I'll post some pics of the cruise later.
I watched Grey's Anatomy last night and used half a box of Kleenex. Wow, talk about a tear-jerker.
Oh, and Amy! FYI! It's 85 degrees in Mexico. Oooh La La!

Happy Birthday Baby Girl 2007

We leave Friday for a cruise from New Orleans to Mexico. My husband and I are taking middle son for his graduation from college. Yes, I know this is my third one this year, but I got a good deal ya'll. Really! And this is a different ship, so it will be like a whole new deal to me. ha.
I really need a vacation.
I have to rest up for the coming grandbaby.
Since I won't be back for Plumbtuckered Birthday, here is my letter to you:
To My Daughter,
You have grown into such a mature, confident person, and I am so proud of you. Now you are going to be a mother. It seems like just yesterday they brought you to me to see for the very first time. The years go by so fast.
You are going to be a wonderful mother, just like you've been a wonderful daughter. I guess God knew I didn't want kids who caused me problems, so he handpicked my three, and gave me my baby girl.
I know I've already said how proud I am of you, and of all you've accomplished. But I really am. And I love you with all my heart. Happy Birthday, Baby Girl, it's the big 29!
By the way, we older women have decided that's a good age to stick at for awhile. You look very young and can hold there for quite a while!

Wrong or Right?

I watched the video of Saddam Hussein as he was being prepared to be hung, and as they put the noose around his neck. And I had thoughts that I immediately realized would not be popular with some people. I know the man was evil, that he was cruel and heartless to those around him, and that his death was probably justice for his deeds. But there was a part of me that saw him as a man, as someone's baby at one time, as a father, and as a child of God, and I felt sorry for him. I think when he faced his death he had fear of it, because of how he'd chosen to live his life. I wondered if he stood there wishing he'd done things differently. And I know he never had pity on his victims, but I had pity for him. I don't think that makes me less patriotic, but just human. I felt sorry for the man.
I don't know where I stand on the death penalty. I worked with a lady whose youngest son was sentenced to death for a murder both she and her son declare he didn't do. I think if someone murdered one of my family, I'd want them dead. But then there's a part of me that thinks two wrongs don't make anything right. So I have mixed feelings. I'd make a bad candidate for a jury where the death penalty was involved, because I honestly don't know if I could vote to convict someone to death or not. Maybe. I just don't know.

Poor Puppy

My best friend is still going through a terrible divorce, and her ex is about to receive the biggest jerk ever award. She's got EIGHT kids still at home. Yes, I said EIGHT. Ages 15 to 4. And he is arguing about paying child support. I think he should have thought of that about uh...EIGHT kids ago? If a man thought I was going to have eight of his babies, he'd quickly find himself without the equipment to make them. geezzz! He actually threatened to ask for physical custody if she made him pay child support. I can't believe the man seriously thinks he could pay child care for all those kids, feed them, cloth them, and school them for less than paying his stupid child support!
My newest adopted dog had a grand mal seizure last night. Scared the bejeezus out of us. He was on the couch, and was awakened by the other dog barking at some noise outside. When he jumped up to get off the couch, he went into the seizure. Poor thing wet himself. I felt so bad for him. We took him to the vet and they ran a lot of tests but concluded he has epilepsy. He's now on phenobarb to control it. I hope he evens out before we go on the cruise on the 13th, or I'll feel really lousy about boarding them. A lady at the vet said her dog has seizures too, and he's also a Maltipoo, so now I wonder if it's a thing with that breed. I know, he's a dog, but he's like my baby.