Monday, October 14, 2013

It's not over 'till it's over.

Waiting for menopause to start is an awful lot like waiting to get your period.  Why do we as teenage girls wait and hope for it, even though our wise mothers tell us not to worry and enjoy it while it lasts.  It's like some big secret we can't wait to have and like many things in life with lengthy anticipation when it is acutually here you wonder- 'What the heck was I all excited about?'

Now at the age of 45, I'm waiting again, for it to be over!  You never know when it will happen.  My mom was 47 when hers started.  My grandma- my mother's mom like many women of that time had a hysterectomy.  My dad's mom and her sister- Great Aunt Mary, well I didn't have the forethought to ask them when they were alive, so that's it, the culmination of my family reproductive history as it applies to menopause, not much help.

To complicate matters, having a 13 year old girl in the house is allowing her raging hormones to ride roughshod over my declining ones.  I have a group of six girlfriends, all of us have daughters in the same class, except for one who has a son.  She just smiles and thanks God for her boys when all these conversations ensue.  It seems that all of our regularly regular, 28 day cycles are bing completely undermined by these girls and their unpredictable super teenage hormones!  After finally figuring our own stuff out, now the girls seem to be running the show.  All of our routines have fallen prey to the erratic whims of the teenage cycle.  They are really messing us up!  Its getting to the point of exasperation.  We're early, we're late its all over the place!

Now I have been regular, every 28 days, for the last 32 years, so if I go on a trip, I know what to pack and when - well I used to anyway...... I am a feminine hygiene product hoarder.  They are everywhere, in the car, in every suitcase, all purses and gym bags, my lunch sack, the kitchen, all bathrooms, my knitting bag - everywhere, usually.......

Recently my husband and I went on a trip to the Dominican Republic.  As I was packing I unearthed the stash in that particular suitcase.  I did the calculations, we'd be home in plenty of time, no need to haul those things all the way to another country, I should have known better!!  The day before we were set to be out on a catamaran tour - all day on the ocean, four days early, a panicked search was on for the afore mentioned products.  Purchased with Dominican Pesos, requested in Espanol, thank goodness for high school Spanish.  I blame my daughter (and so does my husband).

Moral of the story?  The tried and true motto:  It's not over 'till the fat lady sings, or at least until she is officially through with menopause.  So ladies start squirreling away your 'things'.  The teenagers are running the show whether we like it or not.

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