Why do we have belly buttons?
What about the very first person,
Did they have a belly button?
(Aidan, age 9)
The Fear of Love
Should I fear my son falling in love just because it once ended badly for me?
For even the great philosopher Plato said,
Love… is universally acknowledged to be among the oldest of things… (It) is the author of our greatest advantages; for I cannot imagine a greater happiness… to one who is in the flower of youth than an amiable lover , or to a lover, than an amiable object of his love. For neither birth, nor wealth, nor honours, can awaken in the minds of men the principles which should guide those who from their youth aspire to an… excellent life, as Love awakens them.
(quoted from Plato in the compilation, The Spirit of Loving, editor, Emily Hillburn Sell.)
The “Wicked” Ovary
I’ve just about finished my month with “The Wicked Ovary,” but not before she exits in style– with flowing reds–and a migraine twist.
It was just this fall that my Naturopath explained how I might experience a different set of monthly symptoms depending on which ovary was operating. I’d never considered this before and it’s resulted in a ripple of realizations…
“The Wicked Ovary” is the one which brings out the Mommie Dearest in me. Paradoxically, she’s gentler on the inside. For despite my terribly shortened fuse, I’ve hardly experienced any cramping this month.
“I’d take a few days of being mean to my kids over that disabling pain,” another mom suggests at the holiday cookie swap. But I’m not sure I agree. It’s distressing for me to live inside a grumpy disposition, even for a short time.
When the Wicked Ovary is in charge, even the sound of cereal bags opening annoy me. Children’s voices are magnified and every fidgety move grates against my nerves. To top if off, I wake at any sound, and then can’t fall back asleep–for hours.
Lack of sleep has long been my Achilles Heel. It’s turns my glass is half-full world to half-empty…or simply, empty. Typically a ten minute nap can do the trick of righting my perception, but The Wicked Ovary leaves me too restless and annoyed to do so.
Yesterday, after shooting several curt directions at my teen, he had the gall to suggest that I “take a nap” before we decorate the tree. It took all I could to restrain myself from shouting, “F— You!”
Interestingly, this month finds me with sores on the tip of my tongue as if to punctuate the burning words of my short temper.
I’d like to say that I look forward to next month’s ovary–and from this vantage point, those swollen breasts, swollen gums and swollen belly seem easier to manage than this round with outer angst.
It all makes me wonder about balance. Maybe I can somehow integrate the two. If getting angry with others leaves me without cramps, and getting cramps leaves me kinder–there must be a centering place in between.
Perhaps at mid-life, more than any other time, The Red Tent is definitely in order. Taking time to nurture myself during this “change” has to be good– for everyone involved.
Stay tuned next month for the “Woe is Me” ovary.
The Empty Nest Diary 