You aren't in control today.
A long time ago, I heard a very crass comment from a man about a woman being a “slave” to her hormones. That same man became my husband and has since learned to respect both a woman AND her hormones.
It’s a tough for men—being on the outside looking in. On the surface women may appear irrational, but what's going on underneath is orchestrated chemical chaos. No woman wants to be emotionally vulnerable. We want to be in charge of our selves. It’s difficult to explain unless you go through it. Little girls can have tantrums, however, it’s socially unacceptable for a “big” girl to lose it in the supermarket because she purchased six boxes of zip-lock baggies that were supposed to be on sale. She wouldn’t have bought them if there wasn’t a coupon, okay?!
On the other end of the spectrum, women on the edge of menopause are grieving. Sure, they’re elated they no longer need to deal with pain, bloating and skin issues. But, they’re no longer fertile. Their child bearing years are over. They are no longer young. It’s rough. And it’s scary too. Hair dyes and skin toners can’t erase the inevitability of death. Menopause is a due date—not the good kind.
No matter where you are in your mommy journey, pay attention to those days when Hallmark commercials make you sob uncontrollably. Or when you have just glue-gunned yourself into amazing holiday project oblivion. Or days when you’d eat raw meat (right off your ex-best friend’s leg). When I fight those powerful urges to create or destroy, I am extremely restless and frustrated. Unfortunately, I take it out on family and innocent passers-by. Working against nature is a recipe for disaster.
Don’t make me sit and balance my checkbook when I am fuming over child abuse injustices. Don’t force me to be creative when I can only think about sleeping. Please, don’t ask me to go shopping with you, when there’s a cute little burlap bag at home that I can whip up in a second. Okay, 2 hours (darn Pinterest).
I will write when I feel the urgings to write. Or I will whirlwind through the house, fueled by a mocha latte (or two) destroying dust bunnies in my wake. I will take off from work and select the best holiday dress for you—I promise.
I have chosen to embrace the ebb and flow of these powerful chemicals, which are themselves affected by even more powerful forces— the moon, age and The Divinity.
I hope you do too.
Relax, mommies you’ve got this!