Why God in His Infinite Wisdom Invented Menopause

Hot flashes, sleep disturbances, dizziness, memory lapses, difficulty concentrating, anxiety, irritability and mood swings equals MENOPAUSE!  Each side effect is a perfect example of why a fifty-four year old has no business taking care of a two year old.  Especially when said two year old has  sleep disturbances, dizziness, memory lapses, difficulty concentrating, anxiety, irritability and mood swings  himself that can rival an apocalyptic event.  Put the two together and it is recipe for a lethal cocktail of insanity.

God had a very good plan indeed,

Just not for me.

Granted my two year old happens to be in the body of a twenty-six year old man, yet he embraces life with the exact same exuberance, curiosity and indefatigable energy as a typical toddler.  This busy, active, determined son of mine more often than not leaves a path of destruction in his wake, and thankfully, as of late, it is with a this same grin on his face.  Spending one day with this rambunctious boy is not for the faint of heart...string a few consecutive days, or years, or decades together and it is mind-numbingly fatiguing.

Especially for this fifty-four year old who has lost the once youthful ability to "jump" out of bed in the morning and seize the day.  I joke often about my "rheumatiz", but in reality a couple of years ago I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis which is an autoimmune disease that causes chronic pain and swelling of joints and a few other things that I have decided not to think about just yet. 

So far it has its grips on my knees and elbows, but my hands have taken the hardest hit.  Naturally they are the target for all Scotty's frustrated squeezes and grabs and pinches.  He has an inexplicable ability to zero in on the finger joint that happens to hurt the most on any given day.  Yes, I curse...under my breath...with a smile on my face.

Thankfully, so far the medication has kept the worst of the symptoms in the manageable range, but the fatigue and achiness make some days very difficult to slog my way through.

Complaining and griping 

 about others and about
things in one’s own life

 is harmful “because it dashes hope.

 Don’t get into this game of a life of complaints.

Pope Francis

I am not complaining in fact I am grateful.

I am grateful that each morning through the grace of God I can still manage to drag, crawl and limp my menopausal and stiff jointed body out of bed and down the stairs to the coffee pot for my first infusion of caffeine to bolster myself up for the day ahead.  More often than not my son shoves my lethargic, half awake body out of the way as he rushes straight for the banana bowl eager to start his day, which unfortunately usually begins long before the sun comes up.

I am grateful for a the occasional perfect day when I beat Scotty out of bed and have a few precious moments of quiet before our day begins.

I am grateful for the perspective that having RA has given me into Scotty's world and just how difficult it is for him to accomplish the simplest of tasks.

I am grateful for this quiet little life we are leading that is far removed from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the world. 

I am grateful for this whirling dervish son of mine who spins circles around me as we go through our day trying to accomplish the most basic tasks. Our goals are not lofty and I am grateful for the simplicity of our days. Showering, dressing, putting our shoes on the right feet, feeding the dogs, putting away the spoons, making lunch, taking out the trash and various other household chores take up the better part of our day. 

I am grateful that I am able to wake up every single day hopeful that today is going to be a perfect day.

When my children were small I never wished away a single moment.  If I could have frozen time I would have in a heartbeat.  I would do it all over again.  Every moment spent rocking my babies and playing  at the park...every tea party and game of Candyland...every moment spent coloring and reading stories...every afternoon spent playing in the front yard and every hour spent in the world of let's pretend...all of it...every single moment that I have had with them is a treasure that I hold in my heart. 

To be completely honest though I never thought twenty-six years ago that my hot flashy, mood swinging, creaky, rapidly aging self would still be doing all the same things.  Who would have ever thought I would still be spending my days playing hide and go seek, finding monsters in closets, kissing real and imagined booboos, marching around the house and banging together fisher price cymbals to Barney songs, making peanut butter bird feeders, and being a one man cheering section every time Scotty uses the bathroom?

I am stuck in some bizarre time warp...an eternity where time is standing still, yet my body continues to age and deteriorate as my endurance wanes.

Some days my already uphill path feels a little steeper, but I will never lose hope.  I will continue to put one achy knee in front of the other, moving forward and remembering to take nothing for granted.

I will be grateful for it all.

So menopause and rheumatoid arthritis take that!

Whenever you face trials of any kind,

consider it nothing but joy,   

because you know that the testing

of your faith produces endurance.   

James 1:2

 

 

Peanut Butter Bird Feeder.

Thanks Nancy B. for the idea today :)

 

I thought the AARP magazine that was sitting

on the counter was apropos in an ironic sort of way.

 

 

The taste test???? Gross!

 Waiting and waiting and waiting for the birds.

 

And of course you know this had to happen.

Stuck his whole hand in the peanut butter jar

the second I turned my back!