whirlwind tour

I have passed the one month mark...
And I am sliding into the six-week base.
My hormones are ALL over the place.
My memory is GONE.
Blogging has definitely taken a vacation - at least, a backseat in a very long extended cab.
My thoughts are all over the board - or universe.

Kind of like the song "Hot n Cold" by Katy Perry {Which I seriously think -- in my manic self delusion grandiose state -- she wrote for me, seriously!!}

You... change your mind (because it is my prerogative)
Like a girl... changes clothes (have you seen my three girls' closets??)
Yeah you... PMS (hell yes! Because it is EXPECTED so why not use it?)
Like a bitch... I would know (not really, but I'll run with it!)
And you... over think (because I have way too much time on my hands... or because I'm female?!)
Always speak... cryptically (because I do live in "missy-land" and it is a great place to be)

I'm hot then I'm cold because my post partum state seems to have thrown my elderly body into menopause
I'm yes then I'm no because flakiness is symptomatic and habitual
I'm in then I'm out because have you seen my belly button??
I'm up then I'm down because I'm up then I'm down because I'm on a hormonal wave of ebbs and flows
He's wrong then I'm right because... just because!
I'm black then I'm white because there is just too much gray area to wade through

Dear Readers,

There was a Mommy who got knocked up and

SOBER she became-oh

*S*O*B*E*R*

*S*O*B*E*R*

*S*O*B*E*R*

and *L*A*M*E*-oh was her name-oh!

Is it merely a coincidence, or is it irony, that SOBER contains the acronym S.O.B.? 

For example, "S.O.B.-er, I forgot where I placed my wine glass?"

Dear Readers,

{aka Dear Mom and Dad,}

I apologize for my recent hormonal/emotional/thoughtful/insightful/nice blogs.  It is so "CHICKEN SOUPY FOR THE SAPPY".  It is so unlike me.  It is so unmedicated.  I believe it is menopausal and I see my life flashing before my eyes.  I never dreamed I would be "middle-aged". 

I am totally mellowing out with age. 

And I can prove it:  Daughter #1 arrived into toddler-hood with her first word being SHIT.  It is documented in her babybook as "sit".  "Your first word, 'sit'.  You loved giving commands to your dog, Fluffy."  {now, only IF we had a dog!} 

Daughter #2 arrived into toddler-hood with her first word being BUBBLES.  And it is documented in her babybook accurately as "bubbles".  {now, we will just believe that it was for her love of taking bubble baths or blowing bubbles outside.  However, I believe it had to do with the hops and ale carbonation that she found so appealing in bottles, cans and glasses throughout her days.}

We will anxiously await Daughter #3's first word!

When I lost the use of my two fingers, I was asked to write a meaningful story to be published in "Chicken Soup for the Soul" ... only two bad for me, losing two fingers did not push me over the edge into sentimental sap-ville.  The editors changed my story.  The editors changed my life. 

Just being pregnant pushes me over into craps-ville.  Hmmm... Is there a "Chicken Soup for the Hormonal Soul"??

Love,

~ m

Mystery Monday

But at least I smile!