Wednesday, January 5, 2011

I Am One "HOT" Mama...and That's Not a "GOOD" Thing


I'm not too sure about this whole menopausal gig I am currently sweating my way through.
It was horrible about six months ago and then as suddenly as it soaked me on a nightly basis, it just as suddenly went away.
Guess who's back?
It's weird, I have no symptoms during the day but as soon as I get all comfy in the bed surrounded by pups and finally fall asleep I wake up drenched...and I mean literally.
I shoo the dogs off the bed because they keep me from being able to stick my foot out from underneath the covers (a thing I have always liked to do) and dangle it off the bed for a breath of fresh air. Not that my feet stink... but since I was a kid I like to feel air on my tootsies. Now that I sweat like a roofer working in Ecuador on an August afternoon while I am simply laying in bed on a cold winter night I like to have that option of a cool breeze on my footsies.
Like women don't have it rough enough from adolescence on.
We turn 13 or 14 and can't go swimming four weeks out of the summer unless we are lucky enough to have an older sister that will "Show us the way." By that I mean "Show us the way to use a Tampax".
Then we grow up and marry... and for some ridiculous reason agree to push a watermelon out of our body after carrying it around for nine months.
Then we spend a year trying to be able to sit on a bench or have a bowel movement without screaming.
Then we raise the "Watermelons" and let them give us wrinkles and gray hair WAY before our time.
We teach them to know their alphabet and colors.
We take them to get "safe" scissors and all needed supplies for kindergarten ... even stay in the classroom with them when they cry on their first day (even though we are wearing bedroom shoes).
Once the watermelons are almost ripe they begin to get an attitude.
I never knew watermelons could have an attitude, but after pushing two of them out and raising one that my husband's ex pushed out...I knew it was a job that should be one of the highest paying one's out there.
Granted these watermelon's loved me and knew who to go when they needed something, I kinda felt like looking around to see who planted that seed?
Oh, that's right...he's at work.
I have a wonderful husband, but they never completely understand the role of the "Watermelon Pusher".
Once the watermelon's are old enough to drive and go their own way... you begin to feel these intense heat waves at night.
Males talk about wet dreams as a young adolescent...baby, I have wet dreams even when I'm not dreaming.
Since I turned fifty....someone turned the heat up while I was asleep, and not in a Hugh Hefner kind of way.
As soon as I get soaked with sweat and stick my feet out to catch a breeze, just as quickly I am freezing and pulling the covers up to my once dripping with sweat chin.
There is no happy medium when you are a fifty year old woman...TRUST ME.
I blame it all on Eve. Her and that stupid apple.
She should have offered him a watermelon.
All three of my watermelon's are almost grown.
I am left to sweat myself to sleep every night...alternating with adding covers as the "hot flashes" disappear as quickly as they attacked.
"I am Woman, Hear me Roar".
I don't think so.
Helen Reddy should have written a song entitled "I Am Woman, hand me a wet cloth and somebody open a window...NOW shut it and give me a blanket".
Going to bed wearing a tank top with the blanket folded at the end of the bed for quick reference.
Til next time..."Cold Cotton...no wait, make that Sweatin' Cotton"

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