So, here I am, nearly the “ancient of days.” When my peers and I get together we talk about our other peer’s illnesses, malfunctioning body parts and death. I cover my gray hair at a regularly scheduled appointment, ah, yes vanity! I have successfully raised 5 daughters. I claim “successful” because they all survived childhood and I survived teenagers, they are all adults and fully functioning as wives and/or mothers. You’ll have to ask them about that “successful” part individually….
Anyway, I have earned the “grandma” title but find myself being a “stay-at-home-grandma” something I never thought I would be. Come to think of it, for a long time I thought I’d never be a mother, so it’s all kind of a big joke. Because growing up I was NOT the babysitter. That was my younger sisters’ job! Nina was babysitting babies at the age of 8! She had a daycare for years with children other than her own. I was going to wait to have children until after Paul and I had built our careers. Then we found the gospel (or rather the gospel found us) and Heavenly Father taught us what we should be doing. So, as unprepared as a person could be we found that we were parents, and eventually figured out which end to diaper. And that was with CLOTH diapers—there were no tabs or indicators’ as to which was top, bottom, front or back. I was blessed to be a stay-at-home-mom and truly loved it although it was really hard!
I remember back oh, so long ago (no reflection on the age of my daughters, of course) and I still remember it being hard! If you ever look in the background of any of the snapshots of family events you will notice the chaos! It always looked as if a bomb had exploded in the house. My goal was to be organized. Goal: never attained! I was always blessed with the mega-large washer/dryer and so one load of laundry took me three weeks to fold because there were at least 40,000,000 pieces to fold and/or match. (Yes, I have a daughter who laughed at my ineptitude at sock matching, however, now that she has children she laughs a little less robustly!) Slowly, and it felt like an eternity, the pieces of laundry got larger and one by one the children grew up and were out of the home. A few have come back time and again, but that is another story.
A few years ago, with just one teenage daughter living at home, one of the girls commented about how “clean” my house was. It was a magical time to be sure. We weren’t home much and the 3 dishes from breakfast fit well into the dishwasher that contained the 3 plates, 3 cups and perhaps 12 other utensils (that included the serving dishes as Paul was bishop and rarely home for dinner) from the previous night. I vacuumed once a week whether it looked like it needed it or not. Once the room was picked up, contrary to the popular belief of my younger days, no one came in and messed it up. And although becoming organized was still on my list, it wasn’t 1) as urgent, and 2) as difficult to do.
Life moved on, and as always seems to happen, at least it seems to me, life changed. Now, I’ve done personality profiles on myself for a number of years and every one indicates that my personality type is resistant to change. I was relieved to know that there are other weirdo’s out there like me! And once the change has happened it takes me a while to adapt.
This time when life changed it really started with the hormonal imbalances that come with menopause. I’m hot, I’m cold, when I’m hot I’m crabby, when I’m cold I cannot warm up to quickly or I get hot… and crabby. I was tired all day, slept poorly at night during the brief hours I did sleep. Oh joy, NOT! It is a wise plan that Heavenly Father had us have children when we are young! I am NOT young any longer!
I had expected menopause, although menopause is kind of like labor. In that you “know” it’s coming but you ALWAYS think that SOMEHOW you’ll get out of the pain. (And even with a caesarean there is pain!) And you always wonder why someone didn’t TELL you how bad it was, even though they DID and you just thought either 1) they were a little crazy (true) and/or that 2) with “me” it would surely be different (not true.)
I liken menopause to “un-puberty.” Although you don’t loose all of the attributes (ok, the hair thing is weird—either you know, or just don’t ask!) your hormones fluctuate like a yo-yo. Hot, cold as mentioned above exacerbate the emotional roller coaster. You cry because the sun isn’t shining, you cry because it is and you can no longer go out in it because of the medications you’re taking. You cry because you’re getting older, then you cry because the thought of being young again puts you over the edge. When your periods are irregular you think “Oh! I might be pregnant” followed by “If I am pregnant I’ll KILL him!” And then you don’t have a period but you could swear this is the PMS week from HELL but can’t figure out why!
So, here I am, ancient of days, menopausal, a grandmother. That conjures up a myriad of pictures in my mind, most of which end with a brief visit of cherished grandchildren followed by the red tail lights of the car ushering the cherubs off to their new home.
The reality: I am still ancient of days, menopausal, a grandmother. However, there the picture ends. I am a stay-at-home-grandmother tending children. Tending babies—plural-- at this point. I keep my house temperature at sub-zero because when I am holding a crying baby and having a hot flash I am tempted to drop the child, which I MUST NOT DO! (My new mantra.) A few months ago I tended my 4-month old, and 12-month old all by myself for two (yes that’s 2) hours and nearly had a nervous breakdown. We were ALL crying! The next time it happened I called my visiting teacher to help me, thank goodness she came!
So a couple of weeks ago Paul and I were on a real vacation. It was great! He introduced me to “blogging” and made me set up my very own blog. Then I came home.
I want you to know that I love my grandchildren, every single one of them and wouldn’t trade my life for anything. It’s just NOT what I expected! It doesn’t come “naturally” to me. There are lots and lots of bottles and dishes and high chair trays to clean. We’re back to 40,000,000 pieces of laundry in a single load. I feel the need to keep the house tidy, the dog hair off the floor as much as possible which means it will be off the children as much as possible. And I am OVERWHELMED!
And I have 4 (yes, that’s FOUR) other adults in my home in the evenings to help. AND THEY HELP!
I read other blogs from GREAT mom’s who have 2 or 3 or 4 or more children. I love the blogs, I laugh at their great humor. But I have a greater question: WHEN DO YOU BLOG? How in the world do you manage? I am so impressed!!!!!!!!!
Well, the baby is now awake, I’ve fallen behind in dishes, laundry and dinner preparation. But the hot flashes aren’t so hot today and the sun is shining so even if I don’t go out in it I can enjoy the sunlight in the trees. I’ll still talk about failing body parts with my peers, but I look forward to making new YOUNG friends with whom I share a life style—staying-at-home-with-children.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
