My poor kids. Some days, they just seem to get more than their fair share of life’s troubles. Having a single mother in her forties is one of those troubles.
As happens periodically, I was having a case of the crankies last Friday. I knew it, they knew it and none of us was happy about it. Seriously, I tried to snap out of it but it just wasn’t happening.
My only saving grace is that, now that the boys are in middle school, they have commenced SEX EDUCATION. Woohoo. My oldest son can proudly list all the major symptoms of puberty. My personal favorite is MOOD SWINGS.
The beauty of this is I am now able to explain that when grown-ups hit their forties – and this is especially true for women – they go through what I call a “second puberty.”
During this time, while we do not grow body hair in new places (I hope) and our voices do not change (except for those moments when I am yelling my head off and my voice goes up about three octaves), we do, once again, experience mood swings.
With knowledge comes understanding, and now that my condition has been scientifically confirmed with their teachers at school, they are increasingly more understanding when I have one of my little fits. But that doesn’t mean they enjoy it.
Not that I am having much fun, either.
There are several things I do to try and keep my hormones in harmony, ranging from plenty of sleep, exercise and fresh air to meditation and journaling. I am also working my way through Donna Eden’s new book on energy medicine for women, which I will write about more in the future.
Still, the sleep, exercise and fresh air do not always happen and some days I just seem to get trapped in my own peri-menopausal misery.
Such was the case last Friday. At our house, Friday is Family Movie Night. With the school week over, we abandon book reports and bedtimes and snuggle up for a group viewing of whatever looks good on DVD.
Family Movie Night was in serious jeopardy this day. I didn’t feel like I was in any shape to sit down and enjoy myself, and truth be told, I don’t think the boys were really looking forward to my company anyway.
Enter my saving grace: THE BUBBLE BATH.
I am not always a bath person... I tend to use my big tub a couple times in a week, then leave it alone and unloved for months at a time. Last Friday, it called to me.
With a sizeable squirt of “relaxing” spearmint eucalyptus bath gel, I had worked up a good layer of foam before settling into my haven. Ahhhhhh.
It felt good, but I wasn’t trusting the feeling. I’d been working on feeling good all day and just when I would start smiling, a sneaky, angry, little monster would explode out of my head.
So I pushed myself. Rather than my usual self-counseling, “Why am I so angry?” I just accepted that I was angry and started listing every reason I could come up with, without judgment or rationalization.
“I am angry because I have this anger that rolls up out of my body and explodes out of my head all over my children and I love my children and I don’t choose to be this way, only I can’t seem to stop it.”
“I am angry because I had to take the boys to that indoor soccer game today. I hate indoor soccer. It is loud and crowded and there is no place to sit down.”
“I am angry because my sons’ team got creamed at indoor soccer tonight. Their stupid coach enrolled them in a league that is too advanced and he never has any practices and he wasn’t doing anything to help them win and there were too many players on that little indoor field and that soccer ball was bouncing off my younger son like a pinball machine.”
“I am angry because even though I abhor the whole concept of ‘soccer moms’, I think I might secretly be one and even though I want to be very enlightened and all, if my kids are going to play sports of any kind, I want them to win.”
And now I am starting to smile just a bit, in spite of myself. Because I have these two beautiful, patient, incredible boys who genuinely love to play soccer and they don’t care about the pinball machine thing nearly as much as I do.
And I am breathing more easily and thoroughly enjoying my bubbles. Bring on Family Movie Night.
Comments