ADD a Little Menopause

Ann: As if being ADD isn't challenging enough, now I get to enjoy the delights of menopause with that foggy brain stuff. The double whammy just might be deadly.

Pam: That’s crazy.

Ann: No, I am. That’s the point.

Pam: You can’t blame menopause for crazy unless you were menopausal at 32, ‘cuz you’ve been crazy as long as I’ve known you. Either way, I doubt it’s deadly.

Ann: Well, if not deadly, it’s at least embarrassing. I feel like Dory in Finding Nemo. You won’t believe what I did yesterday.

Pam: Oh, I bet I will. I’ve known you a loooong time, remember?

Ann: If I could remember, I wouldn’t have this story to tell.


Pam: So how do you remember the story?

Ann: If you keep interrupting me I won’t.

Pam: Sorry, I forgot about your ADD thing.

Ann: Now who’s foggy brained? So what’s your excuse?

Pam: My excuse? As usual, I’m lost in the fog of your meandering mind. Here… take my hand… follow me back. What happened yesterday?

Ann: Gimme a minute… oh yeah. Yesterday was the annual mother/daughter fashion show for Hannah’s high school. We’ve never gone before but since the seniors and their moms do the modeling, we decided to go this year. I’m glad we did, by the way.

Pam: Yeah, I’m sure it made for a wonderful and sentimental memory for you to forget.

Ann: Trust me, I won’t likely forget this one. But not for the mother/daughter moment. I still haven’t told you what happened.

Remember the other night when we went to try on the clothes we were modeling? They gave Hannah a headband and necklace to go with her dress but we decided to wear our own earrings. It was great because all we had to do was show up at the hotel and all the stuff was there waiting for us.

Pam: The perfect setup for a menopausal woman with ADD.

Ann: You’d think, but hold on. The dress I was modeling was black and white so I decided to wear my pearl earrings. While I was putting them on, Hannah came in to borrow some earrings to match her dress and off we went.

We roamed around the hotel for awhile checking things out and talking to all our friends. We finally got to the room where we were supposed to change clothes. As I was dressing, I realized I was wearing only one earring.

Pam: Oh no! You lost one of your good pearl earrings?

Ann: Yeah, I was pretty bummed. Several of the moms helped me look around. We were all on our hands and knees in the changing room looking under tables and chairs. Some even backtracked with me, but since I’d been all over the place, we figured it was hopeless.

Pam: So what’d ya do?

Ann: I covered the naked ear with my hair and tried not to obsess about it. I still felt kind of silly.

Pam: That’s really a bummer. But it’s not that embarrassing. And I don’t see how it makes you crazy. Everybody loses things.

Ann: Well, in this case, the only thing I lost was my self-assurance. When I got home, I went to put away my lone pearl earring and there, in the black velvet box, was the missing one.

Pam: You mean you never put it on in the first place?

Ann: Brilliant deduction. I had been putting on my left earring when Hannah came in and I never got around to the right one.

Pam: Did you tell those poor women with the rug-burned knees?

Ann: Not a chance. Do you think I’m crazy?

Pam: Wasn’t that the moral of the story?

Ann: No, the moral of the story is never interrupt a menopausal woman with ADD.

Out Of The Mouths of Babes

Ann: I about died laughing at what little Charlie said at the party Saturday night! Wasn’t that hysterical?

Pam: What did he say?

Ann: About his mother being drunk.

Pam: Wow. I missed that. I guess I wasn’t in the room at the time. What happened?

Ann: It was so funny. A bunch of us ladies were standing around swapping menopause stories and I was saying that what bothered me the most was the mood swings. I asked Charlie’s mom, Cathy, if she finds herself crying for no reason or inexplicably snapping at her family. She said she didn’t think so but that only her husband and boys could give a truthful answer to that question.

Just then little Charlie comes in and sees Cathy with a glass of wine in her hand, chatting and laughing with me and the other ladies about night sweats and such. He watched us all for a few minutes and then breaks into our little circle and looks up at her and says, “Oh great. Dad couldn’t come tonight and now you’re drunk. Who’s going to drive home? Me?”

Pam: Was she really drunk? That’s not like her at all.

Ann: She was on her first glass of wine for goodness sakes. But Charlie was seriously concerned.

Pam: What did Cathy say to him?

Ann: She tells him what I just said, that she’s only had one glass of wine and that by the time they’re planning to leave in a few hours she will most certainly be absolutely fine to drive them home.

But then Charlie says, “But you’re drunk!” And so I ask, “Charlie, what on earth makes you think your mother is drunk?” And he says, “Because she’s never this happy at home!”

Pam: He didn’t! How funny!

Ann: We were all in stitches. Honestly, we were wiping the tears from our eyes. And without missing a beat Cathy says to me, “I guess that answers your earlier question about if menopause has affected my mood!”

Pam: Little Charlie is the master of unintentional humor. One of my favorites is when I was babysitting him when he was about three. We were on the floor playing with his cars and I was chatting with him, helping him learn to answer basic questions about his family.

I asked, “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” And he said, “I have two brothers.” And I asked, “What are their names?” and he gave me their names. Then I asked, “Who else is in your family?” And he said, “Mommy and daddy.” And I asked, “And what are their names?”

Charlie answers, “Cathy and Daddy.” And I say, “Yes, your mommy’s name is Cathy, but what is your daddy’s name?” And he says, “Daddy!” So trying to get him to understand by getting at it a different way. I ask, “No, Daddy is what you call him. But he has a name. What does your mommy call daddy?” And Charlie pauses, looks down at the floor and mumbles, “I’m not allowed to say.”

Ann: Hysterical! But it kind of makes me wonder what my kids might have said over the years.

Pam: Me too. But I don’t even want to know!

God's Plan For All Women

Ann: I saw one of those bumper stickers today that say, “They’re not hot flashes—they’re power surges”. Then as I passed the car I just had to look inside to see who was driving. Guess what? It was a teenage boy!

Pam: And to think, my kids won’t drive my car ‘cause it’s a minivan. So what were you expecting to see when you looked into that car?

Ann: I don’t know. If I’d seen a sweaty, haggard old woman I’d be depressed because I’d think, “That’s how I must look!” And if I’d seen a fresh-as-a-daisy, cheerful looking woman I’d be depressed because I’d think, “Why can’t I breeze through it like that?”

Pam: So I guess finding it was a teenage boy was for the best, huh? God knows what he’s doing. Are you sure it was a boy? Maybe it was a menopausal woman with a beard.

Ann: You think this is funny but just you wait. You won’t be laughing when it’s your turn.

Pam: You’re probably right. Hot flashes don’t sound fun. But for the time being, I’m getting a kick out of watching others go through it. Did I tell you about my sister-in-law at my niece’s wedding last March?

Ann: I don’t think so. Do I want to hear this? I have a feeling I won’t find this story quite as amusing as you do. But go ahead…

Pam: It was a cold spring day in Chicago and we were all enjoying the reception. I was listening to the toasts when I realized something that felt profound. Everyone at the head table, the bride and groom, and all their attendants were a full generation younger than me! Then I looked around my assigned table. I was seated with the mother of the bride who is my sister-in-law, my husband who is the bride’s uncle, his mother who is the grandmother of the bride, the family priest, and the parents of the groom. I was seated with the old people!

Ann: Okay. I’m not seeing how this is a story about hot flashes…

Pam: I’m getting there. So I’m feeling a bit old when I see my sister-in-law fanning herself furiously with the wedding program and then she excused herself to get some air. When she’d been gone for a full fifteen minutes, the priest and I decided to go check on her.

Ann: Don’t tell me. She had spontaneously combusted and you found only a pile of ashes for him to perform the last rites on….

Pam: You’re close. So the priest and I find my sister-in-law in the lobby standing leaned up against a large plate glass window still fanning herself and perspiring profusely. She was apologetic and embarrassed and kept saying how awful and humiliating menopause can be.

Ann: I can relate. You say she didn’t burst into flames--so she must have burst into tears, right?

Pam: No. Actually the priest was really terrific telling her how natural it all was and how it was part of God’s plan for all women…season of life…blah, blah, blah.

Ann: So she bought that, huh?

Pam: Yeah she did. But it was all almost for nothing.

Ann: What happened?

Pam: She decided she’d better get back to her guests and she reluctantly stepped away from the cool window and back towards the ballroom. And there on the outside of the plate glass window was a perfect silhouette of her in condensation on the outside of the window.

Ann: You’re kidding me!

Pam: The priest and I both saw it and were grinning at each other as we watched the mist rising from the perfect likeness of my sister-in-law on the outside of the glass. Then she stopped suddenly and began to turn around to say something to us.

Ann: Oh no! Did she see it?

Pam: That’s the sweet part. You never saw a priest move so fast! He jumped in front of the window while simultaneously pulling me nearer to him so that our bodies blocked the scene. She said a little something and then proceeded into the ballroom, cooler and more content having chatted with us. The minute she was back in the ballroom I about bust a gut laughing. Even the priest was chuckling.

Ann: I was wrong. That was pretty funny... but only because it didn't happen to me for a change. Pardon the pun. As I said, just you wait!