Would you like fries with those hormones?

Spending an entire day surrounded by teenagers illustrated for me how true it is that as we age, we women go through what we went through as teens: we start out normal as smiling little babies in little diapers, we surge with hormones as a teen, we stay relatively normal for the mid part of our lives, we surge with hormones as menopause approaches, we end up normal like smiling little babies (without teeth and in diapers, I might add).

We women live in a hormone sandwich. A cruel, sadistic sandwich filled with acne, changing body shapes, crying jags, irregular periods, mood swings, confused thoughts, outbursts of WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME and hormones on the go. Hormones with a life of their own. ....

....two slices of Wonder white bread pillowing around a hormonal hell understood only by women in the world.

During the event of which triggered my thinking (a bowling tournament where eldest niece was rocking the lanes with her outstanding bowling prowess-congrats again!), I was stunned by the similarities between becoming a teen and becoming ....everywhere I looked, a girl was crying. Some were sobbing. Others were standing in a dark corner, gently weeping. It might have been a bad bowling game, not making the cut, a boyfriend breaking up via a text message (can I just say that EVERYONE was texting through the entire tournament? I am surprised they didn't text while making their approach). Whatever the cause, some girl was always breaking out in tears.

Kinda like many of my friends.

I'm also sure (although I did not do a scientific study on this) that some teens had cramps, some had "surprise visitors" of the month, others were screaming at their parents for no apparent "real" reason. Substitute the word "partner" for parent and you've got a perimenopausal woman. It's a cruel, cruel world.

It's kind of like going through the drive through of life and you swear the worker asked, "do you want fries with those hormones?"

(I also assume that there are many a family with the "double whammy:" developing teens in the house and a perimenopausal mother. Dear god--hide the guns.)

I personally am enjoying my "return to youth" via acne, body shape change and bitchiness (as directly related to the changing body shape). I haven't burst out into tears lately but one never knows--it's early in the game and I have seen what happens to my friends. As with teens, my insides don't match my outside. Teens spend their time wondering what the hell is happening to them--things are sprouting everywhere, moods don't make any sense, they look like an adult but inside they feel like a kid. Peeps my age spend their time why things are sprouting all over (read: facial hair), why things are going "south," while they feel 30 but are really 20 years or more older. Personally, I spend my time thinking about my newly developing belly, perimenopausal-spreading hips and how my muscles ache when I do simple things like a Xena kick. I do get pissed off that inside I feel like I'm 30 but my outsides firmly remind me that I am 47.5. I hate that my insides don't match my outsides. Doing things like shoving myself into lockers and doing Xena kicks are rather dangerous now, whereas only a year or two ago, they would have been staples in my entertaining life.

And so, I continue through my second teenage-hood armed with a sense of humor and bag of dark chocolate, comforted by the same knowledge the teen has: this too shall pass. I am assured I will become wise with age, as the teen is assured that adulthood will bring smoothed emotions and a boyfriend who does not break up with your via a text. I can assure my six nieces that they will most likely survive the changes in their lives; my friends assure me the wife and I will survive the changes in our lives. Thankfully, most people I know are either just learning how to text or don't want to text....so, I know the wife won't break up with me via a text message.....

And that, my dearest blog reader, is comfort enough as I curse that new pimple developing on my face.