Editor’s Pick
JANUARY 9, 2009 3:58PM
Rate: 29
The first question out of the doctor's mouth is "tell me about your mother's experience with menopause" followed by the requisite tilting of the head.
When I look to the eye chart instead, the doctor, a quick study, says, "ah, you have no idea, do you?" I do that half smile, half grimace thing. I learned it from the dog actually. It is pretty effective in conveying a peevish look.
If I could perhaps be awarded a $1 for every time that question is asked I might be owning a gulfstream jet by now. Why is it that everything a woman goes through is linked to "and tell me about your mother's experience?".
Some of us grew up without mothers, some of us have mothers who have not yet experienced anything to comment on, and some of us would rather not comment on our mothers. So stop asking! I am not my mother! I don't look like her, I don't talk like her, I don't cook like her, and I certainly am not her clone. There are a few other dead relative DNA gift sources in me that contribute to the experiences.
So, here I am at the age where AARP is IN my mailbox, and I wonder about a lot of things. Like who was the asshat who gifted me with the DNA that makes me generally depressed in the winter? Probably was a re-gift I bet.
And who is the sucker who gave me the "she will never have a waist-ever" gift? I look at old family photos and I see it mostly on my mother's side of the family, but in the men. Did no one get the memo that I was born a girl and still am one!? Waist, people?! Did you have to do that? Sure, a guy can find clothes because they don't need one (a waist, that is), but just try finding something that fits the non-waist of a girl that also fits the hips. Good luck with that.
And I would really like to meet that one who thought big feet were an asset. Seriously, meet me in the alley around the corner at about midnight. Size 10 feet at 10 years old was bad enough, but I didn't know that would be the good old days. By the time I was an adult I was a size 12. I wasn't famous enough to have a designer make a last for me like they do for Paris Hilton (of all people, honestly) but at least there are some shoes now for women that are long enough. But not the pointy ones. I won't make that mistake again after having to remove my designer boots from my feet at a Symphony concert in San Fransicso because we had fabulous front center loge seats. My whole foot would not fit in front of me - I had to turn them sideways to fit between the seat and the balcony. There is more room in United Economy! But if they were not pointy, they would have just fit. I never wore them again.
And don't get me started on finding shoes in Paris. I've said it before, but if you Google: Madam Feet Too Large, you get me. So thank you dear dead ancseter for that little DNA marker - Rabbi Harry from Romania of old, I believe.
Since I am embarrassing myself totally here, let us not leave out the chest that entered the room before the rest of me. That happened not long after the feet got huge. I went from a training bra to one made from iron girders and cement in the span of a year. And spent the next 30 something years hauling around beacons that could double as intell gathering satellites. As an adult I was ordering bras from dress makers in New York City where they shipped them in odd shaped boxes because they laid flat and never folded in the middle.
I never ever knew where that "gift" came from until my Uncle brought pictures of my grandmother, my mother's mother. I had never seen a photo of her until I was an adult. I drank a whole bottle of wine all by myself that night because I was both frightened and grateful. My grandmother stood about 7 inches shorter than me, but her chest was even larger than mine. Good God. The woman needed a string in her back attached to something to keep her upright! My brothers were visiting and we all got a good laugh from those photos because they were probably thanking their lucky stars that they were not female.
I waited almost 30 years to knock them down to a manageable size and that was only because after the first mammogram, it was determined that two xrays would be needed to see one boob. Off with their heads.
So here I am in what seems like the onset of menopause and it, too, comes with a subscription to AARP. And dumb questions from doctors. Now, if only those who contributed DNA to the misery that is menopause would care to stand, or at least raise your old dead hands, I could at least have an idea of what I am in for over the next wave of aging.
Or not.
When I look to the eye chart instead, the doctor, a quick study, says, "ah, you have no idea, do you?" I do that half smile, half grimace thing. I learned it from the dog actually. It is pretty effective in conveying a peevish look.
If I could perhaps be awarded a $1 for every time that question is asked I might be owning a gulfstream jet by now. Why is it that everything a woman goes through is linked to "and tell me about your mother's experience?".
Some of us grew up without mothers, some of us have mothers who have not yet experienced anything to comment on, and some of us would rather not comment on our mothers. So stop asking! I am not my mother! I don't look like her, I don't talk like her, I don't cook like her, and I certainly am not her clone. There are a few other dead relative DNA gift sources in me that contribute to the experiences.
So, here I am at the age where AARP is IN my mailbox, and I wonder about a lot of things. Like who was the asshat who gifted me with the DNA that makes me generally depressed in the winter? Probably was a re-gift I bet.
And who is the sucker who gave me the "she will never have a waist-ever" gift? I look at old family photos and I see it mostly on my mother's side of the family, but in the men. Did no one get the memo that I was born a girl and still am one!? Waist, people?! Did you have to do that? Sure, a guy can find clothes because they don't need one (a waist, that is), but just try finding something that fits the non-waist of a girl that also fits the hips. Good luck with that.
And I would really like to meet that one who thought big feet were an asset. Seriously, meet me in the alley around the corner at about midnight. Size 10 feet at 10 years old was bad enough, but I didn't know that would be the good old days. By the time I was an adult I was a size 12. I wasn't famous enough to have a designer make a last for me like they do for Paris Hilton (of all people, honestly) but at least there are some shoes now for women that are long enough. But not the pointy ones. I won't make that mistake again after having to remove my designer boots from my feet at a Symphony concert in San Fransicso because we had fabulous front center loge seats. My whole foot would not fit in front of me - I had to turn them sideways to fit between the seat and the balcony. There is more room in United Economy! But if they were not pointy, they would have just fit. I never wore them again.
And don't get me started on finding shoes in Paris. I've said it before, but if you Google: Madam Feet Too Large, you get me. So thank you dear dead ancseter for that little DNA marker - Rabbi Harry from Romania of old, I believe.
Since I am embarrassing myself totally here, let us not leave out the chest that entered the room before the rest of me. That happened not long after the feet got huge. I went from a training bra to one made from iron girders and cement in the span of a year. And spent the next 30 something years hauling around beacons that could double as intell gathering satellites. As an adult I was ordering bras from dress makers in New York City where they shipped them in odd shaped boxes because they laid flat and never folded in the middle.
I never ever knew where that "gift" came from until my Uncle brought pictures of my grandmother, my mother's mother. I had never seen a photo of her until I was an adult. I drank a whole bottle of wine all by myself that night because I was both frightened and grateful. My grandmother stood about 7 inches shorter than me, but her chest was even larger than mine. Good God. The woman needed a string in her back attached to something to keep her upright! My brothers were visiting and we all got a good laugh from those photos because they were probably thanking their lucky stars that they were not female.
I waited almost 30 years to knock them down to a manageable size and that was only because after the first mammogram, it was determined that two xrays would be needed to see one boob. Off with their heads.
So here I am in what seems like the onset of menopause and it, too, comes with a subscription to AARP. And dumb questions from doctors. Now, if only those who contributed DNA to the misery that is menopause would care to stand, or at least raise your old dead hands, I could at least have an idea of what I am in for over the next wave of aging.
Or not.
Comments
well, i needed that. very funny. thanks.
I WILL NOT mess with you today, I promise. Well...except to say I am not tall AND have huge feet and itty bitty titties. Where did my jolly green giant feet come from? I did curse one of my girls. She's shorter than me and has the FEET. I'm okay with her blaming me. She's also beautiful, smart, and well...perfect (tongue in cheek here) and she also got ALL THAT from me too. BWAAAAHHHHH!
I know who to blame for shortness, nearsightedness, bunions etc.. on both sides of my family! But they also provided one or two genetic gifts as well. Your ancestors also gave you a good sense of humor.
A very funny and true post. No amount of questions and answers are going to help with the whole menopause/perimenopause, pre/post decade of hell anyway so what difference would it make? I never asked my mother these questions and she is long gone. All I know is that I got my driver's license before I got my period and no, I didn't live in Arkansas on a farm. And thank God for those hormone patchy thingies...saved my sanity and my marriage. Best of luck!
Well, at least you've already taken the spit test and relegated yourself to a life of chocolate over bioidenticals. I don't know why they ask the questions they ask ... sometimes it all just seems so irrelevant, but I guess there's a reason in there someplace. We turn out to be more & more alike every day ... my girls also had a little trip to the guillotine ... thank God!!!
Hang in there girl ... we got a long way to go!!!
Hang in there girl ... we got a long way to go!!!
I think we're cousins. Lucky thing I'm tall (unlike all my ancestors).
Good luck with the change--me too. It's like being 12 or 13 again in a way--not knowing what to expect each month! Blah. And mamograms--the poor nurse who gets me gets a long lecture on how stupid I think the whole thing is.
Very funny post.
Good luck with the change--me too. It's like being 12 or 13 again in a way--not knowing what to expect each month! Blah. And mamograms--the poor nurse who gets me gets a long lecture on how stupid I think the whole thing is.
Very funny post.
Jane - anytime! I'm here all week.
I do sound like one card short a half deck, don't I?! Yikes.
I guess the feet were maybe a counter balance to the satellite dishes, but since they aren't there anymore, too bad they don't do feet reductions...
Ah, the sense of humor. That wit came from, let's see? I know I know! Umm, nope. Not her. Not him. Geez. I should take a look at that one. lc224, I will have to think about that one!
MTK, My hormone patch time is worthy of another post. And another time in San Francisco. I know what you mean about the questions, but it must be in the cliff notes version of meeting with a patient who is experiencing menopause symptoms...every doc asks for some silly reason.
1IM, I wish I had done it years sooner. Who knew. Separated at birth, but I bet you have the smaller feet. Turns out Gracielou is my sister with the big feet! (big smile here).
Without a Paddle - listen, after doing some genealogy, it would NOT surprise me to find out that half of us are related somehow. And you are so right about it being like 12 all over again. Which way is up?!
I do sound like one card short a half deck, don't I?! Yikes.
I guess the feet were maybe a counter balance to the satellite dishes, but since they aren't there anymore, too bad they don't do feet reductions...
Ah, the sense of humor. That wit came from, let's see? I know I know! Umm, nope. Not her. Not him. Geez. I should take a look at that one. lc224, I will have to think about that one!
MTK, My hormone patch time is worthy of another post. And another time in San Francisco. I know what you mean about the questions, but it must be in the cliff notes version of meeting with a patient who is experiencing menopause symptoms...every doc asks for some silly reason.
1IM, I wish I had done it years sooner. Who knew. Separated at birth, but I bet you have the smaller feet. Turns out Gracielou is my sister with the big feet! (big smile here).
Without a Paddle - listen, after doing some genealogy, it would NOT surprise me to find out that half of us are related somehow. And you are so right about it being like 12 all over again. Which way is up?!
Wow. It's like we get a grab bag of parts. It's like a joke that nature plays on us. Proof of nature's sense of humor.
MJK - that is a lucky break for you. I bet it does happen for some women that way.
Scruffus, you always make me laugh and come up with some funny visuals. I am thinking that there should be a doll that comes with a variety of "grab bag parts" that you get to choose to make the whole doll. Like Uncle Eddie's short legs, Aunt Tilda's giant boobs, Cousin Emeris's ass, and Grandma Tillie's knobby nose.....
Scruffus, you always make me laugh and come up with some funny visuals. I am thinking that there should be a doll that comes with a variety of "grab bag parts" that you get to choose to make the whole doll. Like Uncle Eddie's short legs, Aunt Tilda's giant boobs, Cousin Emeris's ass, and Grandma Tillie's knobby nose.....
Oh we ARE twins! The feet, the waist, training-bra-to-boulder-holder, winter depression. I just broke down and bought a Litebook (a special light for winter depression.) I hope it works. By the time February comes, I can barely cope with winter at all.
Very funny post. I want to hunt down my ancestors and give back a few things too.
Very funny post. I want to hunt down my ancestors and give back a few things too.
Well, I remember quite vividly what happened when MY mother entered menopause! She started hearing voices and saying really peculiar things, and she put a quilt over our TV so it couldn't spy on her. Then she was hospitalized, put into a strait jacket at one point (because she was wrestling with invisible demons), and given a series of shock treatments that turned her into a zombie for about 2 years. So menopause always scared the shit out of me -- I was terrified of suffering the same fate. Now I'm on the downhill slope and count myself lucky -- so far, it's only been hot flashes, periodic bursts of crankiness, and a brain speed that's gone from cable to dial-up. So genes are indeed a crap shoot.
As for you, I'd take writing talent, a sharp wit and a big heart over small feet and an hourglass waist anytime!
As for you, I'd take writing talent, a sharp wit and a big heart over small feet and an hourglass waist anytime!
ps fall and winter are my happy seasons; for me, April really is the cruelest month, spring my least favorite time of year, and Easter my least favorite holiday.
Toe-tally hilarious!!!!
Okay we need to talk menopause! Sorry about the big boobs & the feet. Life ain't easy - so let's try to make menopause a real laugh riot, just for fun!
Hmm...Mom went through menopause at 25, went crazy, threw me across the room (at 3), and landed herself in the bin for the next nine months. Use my story. That'll get your doctor to shut up.
Yep Lisa. Told you! February is even worse. Hope that light thing works. Let me know if it does. Although the sun shines in CA, it seems like an insincere winter sun...
Laurel, I think you and I need to have lunch one of these days. It IS a good thing DNA is a crap shoot for sure. You are the first person I know who has admitted to liking winter and not spring. Interesting!
Thank you Gayle! Deborah, Menopause is full of all kinds of humor actually. Expect for the hot flashes. Those are just plain cruel.
Cat - good thing, as Laurel said, that DNA is a crap shoot! But I will borrow your story if you don't mind, probably for the next therapist. Ok, kidding. But if one more doc asks me, I am not saying I won't use it....thanks!
Laurel, I think you and I need to have lunch one of these days. It IS a good thing DNA is a crap shoot for sure. You are the first person I know who has admitted to liking winter and not spring. Interesting!
Thank you Gayle! Deborah, Menopause is full of all kinds of humor actually. Expect for the hot flashes. Those are just plain cruel.
Cat - good thing, as Laurel said, that DNA is a crap shoot! But I will borrow your story if you don't mind, probably for the next therapist. Ok, kidding. But if one more doc asks me, I am not saying I won't use it....thanks!
Great story. Funny, sharp, witty.
Re S.A.D.: It's real. I got a lightbox 14 years ago & my life changed, changed , changed. After 4 days on light therapy (10,000 lux) my world got really happy and I've not been depressed in winter ever since.
This from a gal in the Winter Capital of the World, Buffalo, NY : )
Re S.A.D.: It's real. I got a lightbox 14 years ago & my life changed, changed , changed. After 4 days on light therapy (10,000 lux) my world got really happy and I've not been depressed in winter ever since.
This from a gal in the Winter Capital of the World, Buffalo, NY : )
Mari! I love Buffalo, but you're right - it is the winter capital. We lived there with small children during college years. I miss chicken wings (is Shirley's still there?). Glad the light helped. I've heard it does.
Sometimes I wonder where I got some of my DNA from as well. At 5'4" tall I am the shortest one in my immediate family by nearly six inches. I don't have the same demeanor as my family and my humor is completely lost on them. However, I do know that I got a few things from my mother and father: bright red hair (on both sides of family), bright blue eyes (dad's side) and the incredibly fun experience of having annual mammograms starting at age 25-26 (mom's side again with a history of early breast cancer).
I have big feet and my husband has small feet (for his height). He has the longer eyelashes. Guess who got the small feet and long eyelashes? Son or daughter? Guess who got the big feet and short eyelashes? My 10 year old daughter's now proud her feet are bigger than several of her aunts. But she was in adult sizes by age 8. Try buying shoes in the women's department for a kid with the taste of an average 8 year old girl.
So, anyway, I did hope the DNA fell the right way, but no such luck.
I got to the hospital in time with my second child only because my mother had regaled me, the week before, with the tale of her second labor (stop and start, starting up each time a lot stronger than before the hour or 2 pause of 0 contractions).
So, anyway, I did hope the DNA fell the right way, but no such luck.
I got to the hospital in time with my second child only because my mother had regaled me, the week before, with the tale of her second labor (stop and start, starting up each time a lot stronger than before the hour or 2 pause of 0 contractions).
Funny post, but serious subject under all that humor.
I had a very easy menopause---one month still regular as clockwork----the next month gone----I wondered what all the fuss was about. And I not only didn't gain weight, but I lost it. Yes, I was a little irritable, but I'd been born that way----and yes, a little dry, and maybe a little uninterested in sex--but I was kinda pissed off at my husband anyway, so really, did it matter? Therefore, I turned down any offer for replacement hormones.
This is what was really happening: I had breast cancer. That's why the weight loss. Yes, most likely under any circumstances I wasn't going to have a whole big deal thing going on with the stopping of my menses. My mom didn't either ---but I was lucky about not taking HR, because the estrogen could have made the cancer worse. And my husband, well, it turns out I had good reason to be pissed at him, but I wouldn't know that for a while.
Got lucky, though. All turned out well---hope the same for you---wish I had the outlet of OS when I was going through it all.
I had a very easy menopause---one month still regular as clockwork----the next month gone----I wondered what all the fuss was about. And I not only didn't gain weight, but I lost it. Yes, I was a little irritable, but I'd been born that way----and yes, a little dry, and maybe a little uninterested in sex--but I was kinda pissed off at my husband anyway, so really, did it matter? Therefore, I turned down any offer for replacement hormones.
This is what was really happening: I had breast cancer. That's why the weight loss. Yes, most likely under any circumstances I wasn't going to have a whole big deal thing going on with the stopping of my menses. My mom didn't either ---but I was lucky about not taking HR, because the estrogen could have made the cancer worse. And my husband, well, it turns out I had good reason to be pissed at him, but I wouldn't know that for a while.
Got lucky, though. All turned out well---hope the same for you---wish I had the outlet of OS when I was going through it all.
I read this and did not even understand for a minute if this was written
by a woman or a man. I guess our experiences are so different that
I could not comprehend that she seemed so out of touch with her mother's. But I have to say, my mother and I have almost nothing in common. Every time any one, even my daughter, says that I am like my
mom I cringe. I have spent most of my life defining that which is
not my mother. I wonder how that will effect my daughter.
We are also biologically from the same tribe but genetically so
different. I think that the image and looks and urges skipped a
generation or so. Maybe I am more like a great grandmother.
But my mother started menstruation at nine and then had it
halted by a hysterectomy in her late forties. I started a bit later
and was happy when it turned into menopause naturally.
I have to say, only issue for me is the weight gain that may happen
through the lack of exercise and lowering of drive. But the upside
is not more heavy bleeding and lots of peace and tranquility.
My mood swings are very few and I get lots of work done.
Of course I assume that I cannot get pregnant any more but I am
done with that. I was worried that I would turn into a dry hole
but no problem with that and I just use some more bath oils for
the dry skin.
I am perfectly happy in middle age and have lots of younger men
who agree with me. Only problem, I am still worrying about
twenty years from now and making short term plans to avoid
senility.
by a woman or a man. I guess our experiences are so different that
I could not comprehend that she seemed so out of touch with her mother's. But I have to say, my mother and I have almost nothing in common. Every time any one, even my daughter, says that I am like my
mom I cringe. I have spent most of my life defining that which is
not my mother. I wonder how that will effect my daughter.
We are also biologically from the same tribe but genetically so
different. I think that the image and looks and urges skipped a
generation or so. Maybe I am more like a great grandmother.
But my mother started menstruation at nine and then had it
halted by a hysterectomy in her late forties. I started a bit later
and was happy when it turned into menopause naturally.
I have to say, only issue for me is the weight gain that may happen
through the lack of exercise and lowering of drive. But the upside
is not more heavy bleeding and lots of peace and tranquility.
My mood swings are very few and I get lots of work done.
Of course I assume that I cannot get pregnant any more but I am
done with that. I was worried that I would turn into a dry hole
but no problem with that and I just use some more bath oils for
the dry skin.
I am perfectly happy in middle age and have lots of younger men
who agree with me. Only problem, I am still worrying about
twenty years from now and making short term plans to avoid
senility.
I just realized, I probably take after my father's side of the family and my dad's sister, my aunt. But the thing about genes, even if I can fit
into my aunt's coats and chokers the point is to learn from her
story. How does the health of my ancestor's help or hinder mine and
my children? And how does the cocktail that is evidenced in our children tell us what the future holds? Of course, environment
has some play in that. But for me, the menopause seems to have
not so much power. The pregnancy and child bearing years were more potent. I am glad I am here to share that information with my
one living daughter. The cancer that attacked my other daughter
when she was in her teens most have changed our lives, and her
subsequent death in 2001. It has taken us nine years to rebuild our
balance. I work with alternative healings and good nutritionists to
keep all chakras open.....But do have one more issue...How do I
find the "masterpiece" of a man now that I have left my lovers and
exes behind as I am tranquil and healthy in my menopausal years.
into my aunt's coats and chokers the point is to learn from her
story. How does the health of my ancestor's help or hinder mine and
my children? And how does the cocktail that is evidenced in our children tell us what the future holds? Of course, environment
has some play in that. But for me, the menopause seems to have
not so much power. The pregnancy and child bearing years were more potent. I am glad I am here to share that information with my
one living daughter. The cancer that attacked my other daughter
when she was in her teens most have changed our lives, and her
subsequent death in 2001. It has taken us nine years to rebuild our
balance. I work with alternative healings and good nutritionists to
keep all chakras open.....But do have one more issue...How do I
find the "masterpiece" of a man now that I have left my lovers and
exes behind as I am tranquil and healthy in my menopausal years.
"Off with their heads." Very funny. Great piece-
You all know stuff about your mother that includes when she got her period and went through menopause???!! My mother explained sex to me with, "And moms and dads lie very close together." What? I am in full-on menopause land (can't take hormones due to a stroke at a young age) and if my mother's history has anything to offer, there is no way to know.
And the grab bag? Breasts in my family get smaller with each successive generation and feet get bigger.
And the grab bag? Breasts in my family get smaller with each successive generation and feet get bigger.
did you say a DECADE? I'm just starting it and I don't think my xanax/valium/percocet supply will last that long!
You are speaking about a seasonal disorder, that comes upon people that for some reason are affected by the grayish doom that over comes certain days. There I even said it correctly to match the way it feels. Do you ever look out the window on certain days and just know there are blankets and where the remote control is to zone out for the next 2-4 hours? While others seem to remain in focus, the blurryness of the t.v. set in, and off to slumber land we go. While there are days that seasonal what ever disorder is not bothering me, I have errands I must run, I need something at the local supermarket, I have too much laundry to notice anything else. I am happy to accommodate any other activity. As long as I am not feeling under. If I am, that is entirely different, I don't care what assign excuse I come up, from my refrigerator is running down the block and I must chase it, to if I don't get home, my house is going to tilt to one side and collapse, (of course Freudian speaking for I am going to collapse). I know when I am under it's guise, and know when I am not. There is very little else to determine, if I slant off, and start to drool you will know it's seasonal and time for me to droop.
Menopause can be avoided by compounded hormones prescribed by a holistic MD, who with blood tests, prescribes a balance of tri-estrogens, progesterone, and testosterone. This is much safer than the chemicals provided from the alter of Big Pharma that are frequently cancer causing. The only draw back is slight weight gain like birth control pills. Otherwise, your bones, skin, & other organic makeup remain healthier into old age. Of course, Big Pharma want's to take this option away from us because they cannot profit from it. These are plant hormones derived primarly from soy. DITTO for men's testosterone replacement and adropause.
"re-gift" indeed!
I have a bumper sticker that says, Ask Me About My Mother's Menopause.
I love this post. Me, too. Size 9-1/2 feet, and Busty McGee. I tell myself the long feet are so I won't fall forward from the imbalance. Someday I'll get these balloons deflated, and oh, the blouses I'll wear!
Great-I feel your pain. My feeeeet are ssooooo wide my family calls me platypus feet. Until recently I haven't been able to buy anything pretty, just fugly granny shoes to wear. OY!
Who knew that menopause could evoke such frolic? Thanks for the comments everyone. Much appreciated.
M - really glad you beat the cancer.
Sally- nothing two Bostons can't cure!
UK - I heart you.
Malusinka - One of my daughter's is a redwood tree with smaller feet than me and the other is a short thing with normal feet. Crap shoot for sure.
Andy - my best to you.
Ann R. - thank you!
Insomniac - that sounds like my friend's moms!
Ann P- I hope our feet don't get bigger. I think there are no shoes that size!
Marcelleqb- thank you!
Moms - wish you only GOOD days!
T. Elizabeth - true, all that.
Thanks everyone. Glad you enjoyed this one.
M - really glad you beat the cancer.
Sally- nothing two Bostons can't cure!
UK - I heart you.
Malusinka - One of my daughter's is a redwood tree with smaller feet than me and the other is a short thing with normal feet. Crap shoot for sure.
Andy - my best to you.
Ann R. - thank you!
Insomniac - that sounds like my friend's moms!
Ann P- I hope our feet don't get bigger. I think there are no shoes that size!
Marcelleqb- thank you!
Moms - wish you only GOOD days!
T. Elizabeth - true, all that.
Thanks everyone. Glad you enjoyed this one.
Funny funny funny! Even here in Arkansas!! No idea of my Mom's gyn-hist either- so, no answer when I got the question! Survived the "Big-M'- & lived to tell about it. I have tried to educate and to keep my daughters aware of my medical milestones- but they are not the least bit interested, of course! Oh well- Onward & upward!
Omigosh, LuluandPhoebe and Lisa! We're triplets separated at birth! Well, we are when it comes to the boulder-holder bras, and winter depression. My feet are size nines but that always means any mildly attractive shoe I like at shoe sales will very likely be sold out in my size and color choice. I think I got my boobs/short waist and tendency to put on weight from my dad's side of the family. Jeez, thanks a bundle, you guys! And while I'm at it, thanks for the unpronounceable French-Canadian last name guaranteed to be mangled by everyone south of the Canadian border!
L&P: I have a very easy way to get around that "how was your mom's experience" issue: "I don't know, I'm adopted." 'Course, it helps that it's actually TRUE. :)
And....um....wait, are you saying that not everybody has to get two xrays per boob in order to get a full picture? I thought that was just SOP. Dang, another reason to resent the girls. :P
Training bra, age 9. Period, age 12. C-cup, age 13. Peri-menopause, starting around 36 (8 years ago). Hot flashes, OY! I take hair implements everywhere I go, dress in layers, and make sure I always have something to fan myself with, but they still suck donkey. Primrose oil helps, but not enough.
Best friend from HS has hated me since we were 12 because she got big (10-1/2) feet and no boobs, and I got little (6-7) feet and big boobs (currently a DD). She really felt that just was not in the least fair. :)
Oh, and Shiral? I bet I could pronounce your last name. Husband's from NOLA, so we're french too, and nobody ever gets it right unless we're down there or I run into a french canadian. :)
Great post, L&P.
And....um....wait, are you saying that not everybody has to get two xrays per boob in order to get a full picture? I thought that was just SOP. Dang, another reason to resent the girls. :P
Training bra, age 9. Period, age 12. C-cup, age 13. Peri-menopause, starting around 36 (8 years ago). Hot flashes, OY! I take hair implements everywhere I go, dress in layers, and make sure I always have something to fan myself with, but they still suck donkey. Primrose oil helps, but not enough.
Best friend from HS has hated me since we were 12 because she got big (10-1/2) feet and no boobs, and I got little (6-7) feet and big boobs (currently a DD). She really felt that just was not in the least fair. :)
Oh, and Shiral? I bet I could pronounce your last name. Husband's from NOLA, so we're french too, and nobody ever gets it right unless we're down there or I run into a french canadian. :)
Great post, L&P.
OH! I forgot the t-shirts we got each other on vacation one time (the HS best friend and me, that is).
For her: "Itty Bitty Tittie Committee."
For me: "Over the Shoulder Bolder Holder."
Neither one of us ever wore 'em, but we just had to buy them. :D
For her: "Itty Bitty Tittie Committee."
For me: "Over the Shoulder Bolder Holder."
Neither one of us ever wore 'em, but we just had to buy them. :D
Menopause is like the people who complain about Winter...especially those in Southern states...it passes! Granted, there have been some miserable times, living with elders who don't feel the heat so they don't have the A/C on...but I just would keep an iced beverage and a desk fan handy, grateful that I have a drawer full of Nordstrom sleepshirts, which they quit selling, which are nice and roomy and cotton...Eventually the frequency and the duration seem to slowly diminish. Although the PMS got worse prior, it's mostly a memory now...and my migraines are way less frequent and less intense. I think the doctors interfere with a fairly normal process....
my mother lies. i would never know the truth about her menopause even if i did ask.
Tell them you don't know when she entered menopause because hysterectomy-crazed doctors removed her uterus when she was 45. Loved your post. I had a waist once for three weeks in 1976. I'm kind of with Robin on this one and see menopause as a rite of passage, like Richard Harris hanging by his nipples to join the tribe. (although with us it's more like nipples hanging period). So we make it thru the months of endless bleeding, weight gain, debilitating hot flashes, and intense headaches, and arrive at the end -- wow! old age and eventual death! Fun! But you do have a weird sense of accomplishment -- or maybe it's relief -- when it's all finally over. The latest indignity menopause has gifted me with is Zits. On the chin. Same as high school. Except now I'm not quite so humiliated by them, as am older and realize that nobody sees my zits, as they're too busy staring at my magically appearing SECOND chin. It's probably my fault for finally tossing the Avon Clearskin a few months ago, thinking, I'll never need THIS again. The same thing happened when I gave my daughter my unopened tampon boxes. A month later, hello period. Do not tempt fate. On the other hand, having menopausal symptoms so terrible that you end up in a strait jacket is NOT an annoying rite of passage. That is just scary!
This is so funny - thanks for the laughs. I especially like:
Like who was the asshat who gifted me with the DNA that makes me generally depressed in the winter? Probably was a re-gift I bet.
Like who was the asshat who gifted me with the DNA that makes me generally depressed in the winter? Probably was a re-gift I bet.
Very funny post but, serious also. I had to laugh at Serious Insomniac's post. My mother explained sex to me with, "Don't think of the moment, think of 9 months from now." No mention of menopause from her at all but, luckily it was a breeze for me. I also am nothing like my mother. You're right about winter, it's the worst time of year! Good luck to you and think spring and warm weather!
I live in Washington in the Pacific Northwest where the storm has been going on so long that I don't remember sunshine anymore. Seasonal Affective Disorder? Shit, just don't let me near a gun store. Seriously, I have been feeling so tired, sleepless and curmudgeonly. I feel mean and depressed.
I started wearing a bra in 4th grade. While the feet on ever other woman that is closely related to me in my family are size 10-12, mine are a mere 9-9/12. Of course all of them are 5'10" to 6'4" and I am merely 5'2". My hands are quite handy being a little large.
I now wear a 40 DDD. I am 58, the burden of such flesh torpedos is beyond description of how many ways and on how many levels this has affected my life. There is nothing like going through an interview where the interviewer rarely looks at your face. I'm just saying.
I went through peri to full out menopause between 42 and 52. I started aging so that I noticed at the end of that. Before that I could lie by 20 years about how old I am.
My solution: I married someone 12 years older than me. I look good and young no matter what: so long as I don't go out of my house.
rated
I started wearing a bra in 4th grade. While the feet on ever other woman that is closely related to me in my family are size 10-12, mine are a mere 9-9/12. Of course all of them are 5'10" to 6'4" and I am merely 5'2". My hands are quite handy being a little large.
I now wear a 40 DDD. I am 58, the burden of such flesh torpedos is beyond description of how many ways and on how many levels this has affected my life. There is nothing like going through an interview where the interviewer rarely looks at your face. I'm just saying.
I went through peri to full out menopause between 42 and 52. I started aging so that I noticed at the end of that. Before that I could lie by 20 years about how old I am.
My solution: I married someone 12 years older than me. I look good and young no matter what: so long as I don't go out of my house.
rated
Thanks you guys. Seems life changes are not like getting in the lunch line and choosing between the goulash or the mac & cheese. This cafeteria seems to have endless variety on the theme, huh?
Oh, to hell with it. I have celebrated my old age, in my 50's, by going back to the recording studio and recording an old Punk Rock song of mine. Furthermore, I'm looking for a high tech company here in Massachusetts that I can market my extra 25 lbs of fat to as the next bio-fuel. Love and anarchy ladies! Get that estrogen cream, toss that tired old man you have snoring the couch a bottle of viagra and go at it like rabid pit dogs . . . .
Well, I am 60 and I have big boobs too but I love them and wouldn't think of making them smaller. I also love and forgive my mother totally. She died in 1981 and we had a terrible relationship, but it behooves us to do the work on ourselves that will lead us to love and accept ourselves as we are and to forgive and love those who raised us the best they could, whatever that was. I am not bitter or angry about all this stuff you are complaining about. I think you need to do some work on being grateful for life and stop bitching! All this anger strikes me as self hatred. Ease up on yourself and love who you are.
My mother, after hearing a list of my complaints, suggested that I might be going through early menopause. I bawled my eyes out and now I'm totally freaked out.
As for genes, thankfully I did not inherit my mother's Double E bra size, though I did inherit her 'built like a boy' frame...read: No Waist. At All. Period.
Thanks for...er...putting it all out there...
As for genes, thankfully I did not inherit my mother's Double E bra size, though I did inherit her 'built like a boy' frame...read: No Waist. At All. Period.
Thanks for...er...putting it all out there...
In my 30's, I tried to force myself into adulthood by no longer blaming my mother for what I was and, instead, just blaming her for making my life miserable in the moment. Now that I'm in my 50's, maybe I can go back to blaming her for everything. Ah, the freedom that comes with middle age!
I just started the hot flash cycle. I'm so excited. My mother told me nothing about her history. Hence, I walked into my 16 year olds room and gave her the news so she will have an answer when the doctor asks in 40+ years about her mother's experience.
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