Was a bad week for me. It seems the older I get, the more I have problems with George. George is TOM or Aunt Flo. (Why can't I be mature enough to call it what it is rather than a stupid nickname!) Why my sister and I call it George I do not know. That was my mom's name and it always insulted her. No bad intentions were ever meant. My sister just called it that, I copied everything she did, and the name just stuck.
I was a raging bear all week. Literally. The PMS is getting really, really bad. I just feel like exploding. So if I start to get a little out of line, a little too snarky for my family, they might say something -- and then I give a lion's roar, or pretend I'm a bear until we all laugh. Still, I'm just a bear on the inside. Nothing was fun, although I'm good at faking (think being positive and happy for a child's sake there!) I even lost interest in doing Sudokus, which I had been doing several daily.
Today the pain started. I've read that Ibuprofin is not good for your heart. But so help me, I'm finally able to understand the women who are out of commission for two-five days. If I don't take it, I can't move. I have to move, I have school to teach -- well, a little mind to guide and nurture.
My husband is astonishingly wonderful during my monthly ordeals. He cooks supper because he knows I hate to cook. He entertains DS when the slightest sounds, such as breathing too loudly, annoy me. Today he moved to sainthood status because he did the weekly grocery shopping. Today he was removed from sainthood status because he started counting how many times I said, "I don't feel well. " (He got to six within two hours of being home from work.) "They" say that men are complainers and whiners when they are sick. Well, my husband is not, but I am. I've always had a big chuckle out of that, I'm sure *he* hasn't."
So why discuss "my monthlies" with the world? Just to show the daily life of a homeschooling mom. It's a topic that has been discussed on numerous homeschool boards time and time again. The first time I saw it mentioned, I was shocked. Now I just laugh. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.
Here's a cute joke on the subject.
THE GOOD NAPKINS...ahhhhh...the joys of having girls...My mother taught me to read when I was four years old (her first mistake)... One day, I was in the
bathroom and noticed one of the cabinet doors was ajar. I read the box in the cabinet. I then asked my mother why she was keeping 'napkins' in the bathroom.
Didn't they belong in the kitchen? Not wanting to burden me with unnecessary facts, she told me that those were for "special occasions" (her second
mistake). Now fast forward a few months....It's Thanksgiving Day, and My folks are leaving to pick up my uncle and his wife for dinner. Mom had assignments for all of us while they were gone. Mine was to set the
table.When they returned, my uncle came in first and immediately burst into laughter. Next came his wife who gasped, then began giggling. Next came my
father, who roared with laughter. Then
came Mom, who almost died of embarrassment when she saw. Each place setting on the table with a "special
occasion" napkin at each plate, with the fork carefully
arranged on top. I had even tucked the little tail in so they didn't hang off the edge!! My mother asked me why I used these and, of course, my response sent
the other adults into further fits of laughter. But, Mom, you SAID they were for special occasions!!!"
Isn't it easier to just tell the truth????????? Pass
this on to Girlfriends who need a good laugh!
And here's another over-used favorite.
This story takes place in (where else?) San Francisco. A happy, hip, happening woman living in SF has to endure a visit from her mother, a prim and proper matronly sort from somewhere in the Midwest. The mother is in the throes of menopause, apparently very cranky and physically uncomfortable, what with hot flashes and the like, and the daughter, in an effort to help but probably also to get mom out of the house for awhile, suggests that the mother visit her gynecologist. Mom is not fond of the idea of visiting a gynecologist in a strange city. But after the daughter assures her that the man is thoughtful, kind, humorous and sweet and implores her to go just to make sure everything is okay, the mother reluctantly assents and makes an appointment.
The morning of the appointment, mother is VERY nervous and in preparation takes a shower AND a bath, deodorant head to toe, FDS vaginal spray, the whole nine yards, and heads to the gynecologist.
Mom's in the stirrups, the doctor's mucking about down there, and he looks up, fixes her with a funny smile and says, "Looks like we've got ourselves a PARTY GIRL!!"
Mother is shocked, to say the least. "What... what did you say??!!!"
He grins even wider. "I said, 'Looks like we've got ourselves a PARTY GIRL!'" and this is accompanied by a smirk and a wink.
Mom is flabbergasted and doesn't utter another word for the balance of the exam, hastily dresses and runs out while avoiding his glance.
Later that evening, the daughter returns home from work, inquires how the appointment went, and the mother says, "You have a very rude doctor! He called me a party girl!"
"A party girl!" Mom is sniffling now. "Why would he call me that?"
"I don't know, it's very out of character for him..." the daughter puzzles. "There must be some reason. Think back. Did you say anything, maybe?"
"No!" The mother bristles. "I didn't say anything like that!"
"Come on, think back. What did you do before the appointment?"
"Well," the mother sniffs, "I was VERY conscientious with my hygiene. I took a bath AND a shower. I used your deodorant and FDS â€” I hope you don't mind â€” and then I got dressed, and..."
"Mom!" the daughter interrupts. "Mom, I don't have any FDS."
The mother is silent. They both head to the bathroom where the mother points out what she mistook for FDS. It wasn't. It was orange glitter hair spray from the previous Halloween.