So this is perimenopause?

It's a lot like being pregnant except I wasn't nauseous when I was pregnant, and there's a distinct lack of baby. I' m moody, I'm having trouble sleeping, I am tired, tired, tired, I can't concentrate, I wake up roasting in the wee hours of the morning... what else? Oh, yes, my memory stinks. All in all, I'd rather be pregnant.

I suspected I was entering premenopausal more than a year ago when every other cycle ranged 15 days one month and 30 the next. I had my first skipped cycle at the beginning of the year starting, ironically, exactly 4 years from the date of the cycle that brought us our daughter. The only difference is that this pause lasted 45 days, and I was nauseous nearly every morning during that time. Who knew that would be a symptom? 

 I have no idea how long this will last. 3 years? 10? Heaven knows. It does clinch our decision to not try for more children. These degenerating eggs ... who knows what would happen? I wouldn't want to face that disappointment of trying and failing again, not when we're ahead of the game. 

It's a little hard knowing this part of my life is ending. I don't know how I'll react when the "peri" finishes with me and leaves a lifetime of "pause". I know we decided to stop at one child, but watching the door close on the opportunity to try for another even though we will never try for more is so final. I can't explain it.

No, I can. We want more. The opportunity for us to change our minds is passing. We never will, but choosing not to have another and no longer having that choice are two different animals even when the end result is the same.

Well, it is closing, and that is that. I'll need to suck it up. Like I said, we are ahead of the game. I will focus on that. We're much further than we'd ever imagined we could be. 

Potty training sucks.

When Kathleen was born, one of my greatest worries after SIDS, solids, and the Terrible Twos (which weren't that terrible, really) was potty training. I had no idea where to start. There is a glut of conflicting and sanctimonious advice out there ranging from starting them out as a new born to waiting until the switch clicks. Bribe with candy, don't bribe. Put them on the potty every three minutes, don't make a big deal of it. Let them run around for three days sans diaper, keep the diaper and go mainstream. It's boggling.

And it's the most frustrating thing in my life right now. I say this with the mess I deal with daily putting out fires at work and not being able to get any part of my job done. She is three years, three months, and three weeks old and could not care less whether her diaper is changed all day, messy or wet. How do you potty train that?

Let me relate to you our experiences to date. I put underwear under the diaper in hopes that the uncomfortable feeling would spur her to use the toilet or at least ask to be changed. I never thought I'd need to use diaper rash cream on a 3 year old. I put her in just underwear - something I swore I'd never do but desperate times, desperate measures - and told her it was her job to keep them dry like the big girl she is. I have a load of pee soaked towels and underwear soaking in the washer now. I bribed, ordered, negotiated, pleaded. I had two meltdowns in as many weeks (I wish I could say I was joking). The end result: five whole successful uses of the potty, all five of them because she just happened to be sitting on it at the time. I love the girl to bits, but I want to pound my head on the bathroom door.

I've come to one conclusion: potty training is just as horrible as I always feared it would be. They say no child will go to college in diapers. I say there's always a first.

Where are your parents?

I have a pet peeve. It's unattended children at the playground. Let me be more specific: it's unattended older children at a playground full of much younger and much smaller children.

Children at a playground tend to forget themselves. They're so busy having fun that they lose sight of things like fairness, manners, and the throngs of smaller munchkins surrounding them. They are unable to attend to anything that lies outside the realm of their world which, at a playground, is solely focused on having fun. Actually, I'm wrong. They see everything, but they have no compunction against running over anything that lies between them and the slide.

I understand. They're kids, I know. They're meant to have fun. Excitement supercedes consideration. Their minds haven't developed to that point of sophistication where they know when they're being brats. But their parents' have. So I ask: where are they?

Perhaps I'm being a fud. I'm a crotchety curmudgeon. Even so, I have four things to say to that young boy. 1) You are old enough to know how to wait your turn. 2) You do not push children half your size out of your way. 3) NO ONE pushes my daughter out of the way, especially when I am watching. 4) If your parents aren't there to tell you when you've crossed the line, I will. (Heaven help us, I really am turning into my grandmother.)

Now, I commend you for listening when I warned you to let the two children who were ahead of you to go down the slide first. You're not a bully - that's good - but it's time for you to start understanding that the world does not revolve around you.

My life now

My life is a far cry from what it was four years ago. I have have a child. I have a new position at work. I have no time. All in all, it's pretty good. What is it now?

Kathleen at nearly 2 3/4 years old gives George Jetson a run for his money for all the button pushing she does, and whining has become the primary form of communication.She's a stubborn thing, too, but given that she has the major share of her mother's personality, she comes by it honestly. We're well into the terrible twos. She hasn't been terrible for all that, just two. She's as she should be which is pretty nearly perfect (no bias).

We finalized our plans to spend Boo's third birthday at Disney World this week.We haven't done Disney since our dating days. I can't wait for Epcot, my favorite if the Disney parks. Seeing through a three year old's eyes should be an experience. I hope it's a good one for her. She won't remember it, but the experience will become another small building block in what her life will be. And we will most certainly remember it.

That tingling I wrote about last time is still with me. It hasn't disappeared entirely, but it has gradually diminished now that I I stopped obsessing over it. The neurologist sent me for an MRI to rule out MS. I'll take the silence since as a no news is good news sort of thing. I'll find out more at my next appointment and the EMG.

In other fun health news, perimenopause has begun. Well, woo hoo. I'm certain I had a taste of it last year, but as of early this year it's kicked into high gear. Talk about wonky cycles. We're fortunate that we managed to become pregnant when we did. We had hoped for a child but any expectations were nil then. Both hope and expectations would be even lower now.

I'm a supervisor now. Who'd have ever thought it? I'm questioning the wisdom of the move. Our progam is still a poorly planned work in progess. I get to have people complain to me about how much they dislike a progam they have positively no obligation to use. If you get nothing from it, don't participate and let me focus on those who do. However much I want to say that, I shouldn't. I don't imagine it would be well accepted. Heaven knows I wouldn't accept it were I on the receiving end, not now. That perimenopause thing is turning me into my grandmother ... Heaven help us.

Busy Times

The title of this post is no understatement. Life has been busy. Busy, busy, busy. I interviewed for and accepted a supervisory position in my office back in March - the wisdom of which I am still questioning - and it feels like I haven't stopped since. The program our bureau oversees has been in flux since August. The Powers That Be put changes into place before all the details, bugs, procedures, etc. were hammered out. It's been an experience dealing with the ramifications of that. It'll all settle down eventually (I sincerely hope), but until it does . . .

Work isn't the only thing keeping me on my toes: my health is, too. Back in February I began feeling pins and needles first in my feet and then my hands. It eventually morphed into a feeling of weakness in my shoulder and leg which was frankly petrifying. In my vivid imagination I had myself diagnosed with some terrible, incurable, wasting neurological disease and in my grave within a year. I'm as positive as I can be that reality will prove to be much better than my imagination. I began seeing a chiropractor who diagnosed me with upper cross syndrome (terrible posture, constantly hunching of the computer, incredibly tight muscles that should be loose). The massage therapy he prescribed seems to be helping. The pins and needles aren't gone completely, so I'll be seeing a neurologist just to make sure there's not anything more. It's an adventure.

Baby boo continues to be our little piece of perfection on two feet who relishes the word "No" and loves seeing just how long she can ignore mom and dad when the ask/tell her to do something ("No, sweetie, the water stays in the tub. No, sweetie, tub. Kathleen Elizabeth [insert last name here], if the water can't stay in the tub, neither can you."). At the same time, her vocabulary is expanding by leaps and bounds. I love how she plays with words. Yummy, for instance is now a verb that's meant to convey enjoyment, the act of eating, and contentment. "Mommy, I yummy the cookie!" Genius.

Oh, let’s not forget perimenopause. I’m not positive, but I’m pretty sure it’s here if these extraordinarily short cycles that have been sneaking in here and there and the lovely hormones are anything to judge by. I knew it was coming eventually. I thought I’d have a few more years, though. Well, at least I won’t need to continue wondering when the beginning of the end will arrive. It hasn’t been terribly bad – no hot flashes – but it’s only been with me for a year. We’ll see what happens as it progresses. Maybe I’ll luck out and it will be uneventful.

Snow

I don't like snow so much any more. I used to love it when I was younger. Snow meant snow days which meant no school! Then I started driving and it took on a whole new perspective.

Now I look out the window as the moon shines on the breast on the new fallen snow giving the luster of mid-day to objects - well, not quite. But it is very pretty watching to dry, fluffy, undisturbed, newly fallen snow glisten in the light of the distant street lamps. It's like a galaxy of stars sparkling on the ground. I showed Kathleen. I doubt she understood what she was looking at. I'm glad I had her to show it to, though.

One little Boo

With thanks to my little girl who brought it home, I am getting over another stomach bug. The last time I came down with one was April 1997, two weeks before my grandfather died. I remember because I missed Sunday dinner, the last chance I'd have had to see him alive and healthy. And now I catch the the bug two years in a row. I guess this is another of thr risks you take when having a child. Of course, I'd rather get the stomach bug every year with her here than live a life sickness-free without her.
DH and I are settling more comfortably into our decision to have one child (notice I didn't say only one child: there's no only about her). Before the anti-abortion crew gets on my case ( actually, I think she unfortunately opted to stop following my blog at my first mention of having no more than one child back in 2010 after making an assmption that should never have been made), if some grand miracle were to occur (and believe me, it would be a miracle) we'd be shell-shocked but thrilled. Abortion has never been part of my vocabulary. I'm only saying that we are better understanding the advantages of one.
Baby girl is at an age where we're seeing the advantages of one more clearly. The financial advantage is a big one but not the primary. The biggest is probably the time we can spend with her. She is the center of our world. That doesn't mean we spoil her, but when she wants or needs our attention, she gets it. I can't help believing that she feels more secure and confident knowing we always have her back. I know I'd have been as a child if my brother hadn't arrived to divert attention away from me (no offense to him). It makes me better appreciate that we're able to provide it for our girl.

Farm Show that never posted (2 weeks late)

Today was the start of the 97th annual PA Farm Show. Note to self: Never go on opening day again. The crowds were overwhelming. All the lots were packed. We had to park in the boonies and take a shuttle in. There was barely room to move in the food court. Still, we did get our fresh from scratch potato doughnuts, a Farm Show specialty.

We saw hundreds of animals. We now know that Boo is not fond of big animals that are up close and personal. The horses and cattle intimidated her. I think she enjoyed the poultry and rabbit exhibits the best. We saw genuine angora hares. You can't tell there's a rabbit in the middle of all that fluff.

My brother and I loved the Farm Show as kids. It's the thing in the Harrisburg area at this time of year. We grew out of it eventually. I can see why mom was happy to give it up with all the traffic. We'll be going for the next decade,however. The only difference is that we'll be taking a vacation day and going in the middle of the week in future.

3 Years

I'm pretty sure my Fire is going to die before I finish this. . .

I can't believe it's almost been three years since we stopped TTC. It'll be three years on Friday that the single cell that was to become Kate started on its way. Is it sad that I know the exact date? I can't remember much about life PK (pre-Kate). I take that as a positive. I like my life better now. It's good. I know that if she hadn't joined us, we'd have given up by now.

Gotta run. Mickey Mouse Club House, which worked its way into the nightly bed time routine, is over. It's time for night-night crickets.

One Amazing Boo

I was watching a series of videoes recently. They were taken last year at this time. They show Kathleen just after she started walking. I can't get over how much she's changed - how much she's grown since last year. Although I'd swear she hasn't changed a bit, those videoes tell me she's not the same baby. She's not a baby at all. I know when it happened: what I'd like to know is how? She speaks in sentences now. She barely had a handful words last year. She runs, hops, jumps, and skips these days. Last year she could barely keep herself upright as she mastered that jerky, new walker gate. She understands almost everything I say. She pretend plays. She feeds us tea. She's amazing. We may be only having one child, but the little person who came to us is perfection on two feet. We hit the jackpot.