Hormone Harmony

 The other day, my almost teenage offspring (after a short bout of snarling) told me the following: 'Mom, these days I feel like I am almost always angry. There is a rage in my that won't go away.'

'Aaah' - I thought to myself. She just went all out and said that to her perimenopausal mother, whose favorite pastime of late is shouting and fuming.

And then I thought: 'I got you, child'. I looked at her with bright knowing eyes and uttered what might be considered some of the truest words to have ever come out of my mouth.

'Dearest, do you remember when in one of those superhero movies Captain America told Dr. Banner that now would be a good time for him to get angry and turn into the Hulk? Banner just answered: 'That's my secret, Cap... I'm always angry'. And that, my lovely child, sums up nicely the reality for both of us right now.'

Proud parenting moment, that.

A New Buddy

They say that it is very difficult to make new friends as you get older. 

Ha! I do love proving them wrong. Or in this case - my husband proving them wrong (because on this I agree with 'them'. I am getting more and more ornery as I age and at this stage in my life I don't like people very much). 

So, my husband has a new best buddy, it seems. We - his immediate family - have seen positive changes as a result. He seems more informed and chirpier at times. I would even go as far as saying he has a spring in his step.

His new friend advises him on his diet, talks him through what to cook for dinner and even indulges his whims in discussing controversial topics. However, his buddy made a boo-boo the other day - didn't remind him to buy salmon. Twice. And I think that has led to a bit of a rift in their relationship. 

But knowing my husband - that won't last long and they will very soon go back to chatting about recipes and work and world peace.

In your faces, doubters!

Game Changers

Recently, social media enlightened me that I have two game changers in my life. AKA my kids.

And game changers they are for sure. Every so often my husband and I question the sanity of our decision to have kids - usually after a long, long day (when you just want to go home and plop on the bed) or when the game changers have been overly sulky, chatty or just breathing the same air as us. 

Every day, our game changers inspire in us questions that would otherwise seem very simple and straightforward. Some of them (and trust me, the list is far from exhaustive) include:

What to have for dinner that will be eaten by all

What to put in the packed lunches

Is the school uniform washed (I have nightmares about this one)

Can they watch TV / play on the computer / play on the Nintendo / have more time on their phone (all of these are asked by our offspring at least once a day)

...and don't even get me started what happens when they hear the inspired shout: 'Bedtime!'.

My Lovely Person...

It's important to find the right partner in life. I chose carefully and I did quite well. I ended with a lovely person, who tolerates my moods. Which means I have to tolerate his moods for this marriage thing to work. 

Ummm. 

I work from home. No office for me at the moment. That is wonderful and I enjoy it very much. However, my lovely person also has days working from home. And I like that. Usually. 

But not today. Today, at regular intervals, my lovely person passes by my desk, ranting about everything. And by passing by my desk I mean stopping at my desk and by ranting - I mean complaining. 

About the world state of affairs. About the internet provider. About the fact, that the internet cannot clearly advise him on what diet to stick to. Damn you, Internet!

I think I've had enough for today. I am currently hiding in our bedroom, but I know it won't last - his desk is here, which means I will have the pleasure of another random rant veeery soon. 

Help!

Delightful Eye-Opener

It has been a delightful eye-opener to occasionally come upon creative names for perimenopause. Some of the idioms elicit a chuckle or two, which is what I need, trapped in this haze of bouts of rage and forgetfulness. 

Here are some of my favorite ones (and unfortunately for those around me - some are very accurate):

Cougar Puberty

Private Summer

Reverse Puberty

Power Surges

The Great Hormone Migration

Fire-Breathing Fairy

Aggressively Shimmering

Symptom Lucky Dip

Patience on Annual Leave

Sure. I am at that age where every day is a game of roulette, when you think: what next?

The Annual Rant Update

I have decided: this year there will be no update for the family how our year's been. 

No, nope, no way. This year we are planning on sharing an intense rant, because that is the most prominent feature of the year for us. 

And before you ask - yes, we have been practicing for it the whole year. There has barely been a day that my other half and I have not initiated an honest rant of some sort. And trust me, it doesn't take a lot to ignite the righteous indignation in our souls. 

The new road layout? Rant. The crappy driver in front of us? Rant. Food prices? Rant. Should I go on? I think I am about to start another rant (told you it doesn't take a lot to get me started...).

So, my dear family and friends, what is the topic of your choosing to get me started for your Christmas cards this year? Just say the word!

Fitting Room Inferno

There is nothing more humbling than trying on clothes in a fitting room. The picture in your head what you look like is crumpled and then trampled on. And then shredded to pieces when self-doubt creeps in.

These are some of the legitimate questions that come to mind when you look at yourself in the multiple mirrors, showing your flaws from every possible angle (why, store designers, why???):

'God, look at that saggy cellulite-y ass... surely it can't be mine?'

'Did I use to have love handles?'

'A spot? There? Really?'

'And I thought I had nice legs/ass/boobs, etc. (choose the area which has offended you the most)'

'What's with those bags under my eyes?'

I can go on, but I am sure you get the picture (as crumpled as it is). The question that pops into my head is - do stores really want to sell more, if they have come up with this torture of a fitting room, where the harsh lighting and badly positioned mirrors are the norm? Or may be they hope you are realistic enough about what you look like when you enter this infernal room.

Argh...