I am what I am

Be strong, believe in freedom and in God, love yourself, understand your sexuality, have a sense of humor, masturbate, don’t judge people by their religion, color or sexual habits, love life and your family.

– Madonna Ciccone

 

Beagle Sorry Face

If only I was this cute

Eek! I have to apologise, it’s been a while. I blame the hormones. Honestly. I was booked off the whole of last week because the hormone replacement therapy I have been on rendered me completely useless. You try writing an article while you’re suffering from a 10 day migraine, complete with nausea and shakes. It was like the worst, unforgiving, unrelenting morning sickness I have ever had. Without the payoff of knowing that in 9 months it will all be worth it when you see your baby’s gorgeous, alien shaped face. Believe me, the only baby I have in my belly is a food baby. As the Jeffsta so lovingly told me though, that’s no excuse for neglecting your blog. I should’ve had a post lined up in case of an emergency. So I do apologise, wholeheartedly (dripping with sarcasm) for not planning ahead. I promise it will never happen again.

So anyway, this whole week has made me realise that one very important part of a successful marriage is having a partner who will humour you no matter what the problem is. It is very difficult for any man to understand what it is like for a woman when she’s feeling hormonal. In my case, thankfully, there was physical evidence in the form of spew, magical carrots and all, that I wasn’t upto the task of mothering, wifing and just general human interaction on any level. But what do you do when you’ve just got a case of the “weepies” or you’re “raging” for no apparent reason? How is your partner/child/friend supposed to respond to the mania?

crazy women

We need to start spreading our crazy around, or we will be swallowed up by it

Well, it’s hard to say. Sometimes I prefer that the Jeffsta tells me I’m acting like a moron and other times I want him to cuddle me and feed me chocolate. It just depends on the mood I guess. It’s hard on the kids as well. Poor Ty has had to learn at a very early age how to circumvent my many, unpredictable mood swings. Of course, outsiders only see me playing the part of the happy, friendly and insanely witty hot piece of ass that I am, but at home it is often a lucky draw.  We are so used to emulating the perfect image to our friends and family. For fear of being judged as not good enough. But I think we need to start embracing the fact that we are not perfect, and our imperfections are what make us human. And they are what make others love us, for who we are.

So the next time you find you are holding in a tantrum, or a LOL, just let it out! It is much healthier to face your emotions head on. It makes dealing with them easier, for you and for your nearest and dearest. In conclusion, I’d like to say:

I am what I am

I am not perfect.
I cry.
I flap.
I scream.
I shout.
I laugh.
I sulk.
I love.
I smother.
I dote.
I am me.
I love me.

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Giving up on the dream

What do you do when you can’t run that marathon you’ve been training for because you lose your legs in a terrible car accident? Do you compete in a wheelchair or do you just change direction completely and learn a new skill like playing the guitar? Who knows, you could turn out to be the next Jimi Hendrix. We can’t always get what we want. And sometimes, no matter how hard we work, the universe will prevent us from reaching that goal we’ve been working towards to test our strength to the limit. That’s life right? So what do we do when that happens? How do we cope? Do we a) give up b) find another way to get there or c) work with what we have left to achieve a different goal?

I’m not sure actually. To be honest, it’s hard to stay positive 100% of the time. Harder still when your circumstances are unique to you. You can confide in, cry to or shout at your partner, friends or family (or all of them) as much as you like. You will still feel alone.

Ovarian failure

Thank you Douchebag Uterus!

We recently discovered that I have premature ovulation failure. It sounds like some sort of mechanical problem my Peugeot experienced a couple months back. But basically, I’ve stopped ovulating and have been experiencing menopausal symptoms like hot flushes (dear god I’ll never tease you again Mom!), major mood swings, massive weight gain, migraines, nausea, high blood pressure and just all round misery. Hahahaha! God I sound like such a whiney cow. Anyway I’m on hormone replacement therapy now to try and kick start the ovaries and postpone any further premature decline into the dreaded “change”. My problem is the treatment is making me feel worse! It’s scary to think that my body has been so deprived of estrogen for so long that even the slightest increase renders me useless for about two days at a time.

In the meantime, I’ve had to deal with the emotional fallout of pretty much no longer being able to fulfill the only biological function I was bred for. Yes, yes I know. I am so lucky already. I have the most amazing little miracle boy and a wonderful hubby who loves me. And I am SO grateful for the boys and everything that they have brought into my life. But it still hurts. It’s a pretty psychologically draining thing to go through. I am a logical, rational person. I know that no longer being able to breed does not make me less of a woman/wife/mother. So why do I feel that way? I love and adore my son, yet I still feel this great sense of loss at never having a screaming match with my teenage daughter because she is dressed like a slag. Most days I am perfectly fine with not having to worry about getting knocked up again. It is a bit of a relief actually. I was NOT a happy pregnant person. It didn’t help that I am only 1,5m tall and put on the equivalent weight of a Fiat Uno. But I still feel cheated that I will not feel another life growing in my belly again.

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I am a control freak and I have no problem admitting that. I plan things WAY in advance. I have an app for everything. I can plan a six month project on my phone, while getting a bikini wax. But I don’t have an application or program that can help me deal with this. Is the reason that I have been finding this so hard because the choice has been taken away from me? Is that all that it is? If I had had an app that could schedule my menopause, that would have been ideal.

I guess what this experience has taught me, is cherish what you have NOW. Life really does happen while you’re making other plans. Stop thinking about how you’re going to travel the world when you’re thirty. That may never happen, leave now! Learn that language. Climb that mountain. Live your life. Don’t let it pass you by. You only get this one chance so don’t screw it up waiting for better days!

Despite all the dreariness of this post, there is a beacon of hope. My boobs have never been bigger or better!