At 50, I am at the glorious stage of life where I am transitioning into my favorite person, Maxine. Yep, everything on my body is a clear cut roadmap pointing south. My distance vision is so poor I mistake my son for my husband. Thankfully that clears up as we get closer to one another because with my personality, there’s no telling how that boy might be scarred for life by my words or deeds if I thought it was still darling hubby.
Though I am predominantly a positive-minded person, there are days when Maxine’s sarcasm and impatience creep into my soul. I find this to especially be the case on days like yesterday and today. One of the other joys about this age is the cessation of menstruation. That’s right, no more monthly visits from Aunt Flo or her twin sister Aunt Cramps-from-Hell. Or so we’re told.
The transition, which I’ve learned can go on for years, includes skipping your monthly visits for 2, 3 even 6 months at a time. Just when you think the dynamic duo of pain and chaos are out of your life for good…BAM! They come calling with a mind to make up for lost time. For me anyway, it seems the longer these two titans of terror stay away, the worse the next visit is.
The pair showed up this week. Back when I had regular visits form them, I saw the signs of their impending descent upon my life. A full day of being a bitch on wheels accompanied by a day or two of a ravenous appetite that left even my granddaughter’s Gerber Toddler desserts fair game. Now, because I am lulled into a false sense of “maybe they’ve gone for good” by an extended absence, those signs sneak up on me and I don’t recognize for what they really are.
Earlier this week I was really struggling to keep from eating everything in the house that either tasted sweet or crunched. Even the French’s Fried Onion Bits were calling to me at one point in spite of my knowing how badly they taste before baking – yes in an earlier demon-like possession, I have eaten them out of the canister. When the tag team of Hurt ‘Em and Leave ‘Em Bleedin’ showed up, all became clear.
The good news is that I managed to fend off the worst of their predatory advances and even lose a tiny bit of weight. Today’s end of the week weigh-in finds me 255.4 bring the New Year’s total to -6.3. It’s not the 15 pound weight loss Atkins promises from their induction phase but then I haven’t been the ideal Inductee. I would have to say that all things considered, it hasn’t been a bad start. I just wish this body of mine would make up its mind…menopause or menstruation. This duality is killing me.