Nonnie in a box

I love being a Nonnie.
It fills my heart so full that at times I feel it may just burst.
I can be in a real pity party, head banging mood, and think of my Eden and all is right with the world.

I look at her in awe. This little creature that came from my little creature. I HATE being clear on one side of the country and my Butterbean being on the other. I was spoiled while Evan was deployed; Nancy was so gracious and good to us, she would come stay with us and I would be in heaven. She would bring Butterbean into my room early in the morning and give her to me and I would have all this precious alone time.



I would tell her stories of her Daddy and tell her about all of our future shopping trips. I would tell her stories about our crazy family and all the people who are no longer here but would love her so very much. It was such a great time. I would pray every night for Evans safe return and God blessed us by bringing him back to U.S. soil.

It was time for him to be reunited with his Daughter and his wife. As long as I live, I will never forget the day I had to say goodbye to Eden. I had gotten to keep her all that last day while Nancy was in a wedding. We were at my Mom's house and Kelsey was there. We had such a great day playing with her and dressing her up, but the time finally came for Nancy to pick her up. They would be leaving for Washington.

I was not prepared for the emotions that over took me. I am so thankful my Mom was waiting for me as I turned around, she literally held me while I sobbed. A Nonnie should not have to be so far apart from her Butterbean. I slowly started focusing on the fact that she needed to be with her Mommy and Daddy, but it was very, very, hard.

Now, there they are in Washington, this little family of three, and I have become Nonnie in a box.  We facetime almost every other night and Butterbean just acts as if it is the most normal thing in the world. Actually, she mostly ignores me unless Poppie is in the box, then she is transfixed and all googoo eyed.  I have gotten to see their beautiful apartment, and I get to see their sweet, gorgeous faces, and it is a wonderful thing.

I do worry though, that when we do get out there to visit, will she scream in fright at seeing us outside of the box??   Oh, the trials of a Nonnie....

Help, I am stuck

So, the journey continues into the world of menopause.
Yep, I said it OUT LOUD and who really gives a flip. I guarantee that if you are a girl , woman, or have a vagina, you too will get here. I will start praying for you now, if you sign your name to the bottom of this post. I dare you.
 
My body seems to have a mind of its own these days, somewhere between Madonna and Bea Arthur; I mean that energy wise. Some days I jump out of bed ready to conquer the day and all that could possibly be in it; I can hit the park and walk almost 3 miles, come home and clean top to bottom, and still be going strong at midnight. Oh yes, going strong as in RESTLESS legs, no sleep, mind going in a thousand directions and kicking the covers completely off the bed, fan on highest speed, and my sweet GT guy never complains. Sometimes I want to beat him. Then other days it takes every single ounce of muscle just to get me up. Walking to the bathroom feels like the walk to the electric chair.
 
As crazy as my physical moods are my emotions are off the richter scale. I can cry watching golf. Road Rage is daily emotion. There are way too many idiots on the road..... or maybe there are too many menopausal women on the road. The hot flashes, the mood swings, the thought that your reproductive parts are shriveling up to raisins (that was an exact quote from my Dr) while your husband remains fertile till death, is bad enough, but the fact that you start putting on weight in places you NEVER had a problem is just down right annoying as ......you get the picture.
I eat half of what I used to, I walk miles every week, I drink gallons of water, I pass on the nightly glass of wine, and that darn scale lies to me viciously every single morning. I know it is lying because there is no way I weigh what it says I weigh. NO WAY.
 
I had a good day not too long ago, I had actually slept through the night, woke up normal and not a sweaty mess, had good energy. Took a shower, did my hair and make up, put on a cute outfit, felt really good about myself. One of those days where you feel thinner than normal; a good, good, day. I took myself to the North Georgia Outlets where I found an adorable denim dress at The Loft. I picked out my size and proceeded to the dressing room. I quickly realized stepping into the dress was not an option, so here it went over my head. Well, I was horrified to find it was not going down over my boobs. Knowing that the next option was a SIZE bigger; I totally went into denial. I tugged and pulled till I had worked up a sweat and got the darn thing at least over my boobs. BIG MISTAKE!
 
The dress would neither go down any further, nor would it go back up any further. I was mortified!!!!!!!! I was stuck in a dress in a dressing room. I thought about calling Michael to come and bring scissors, but even that was enough to make me want to just fake my death right then and there. I finally laid on the floor (my feet were sticking out of the dressing room) and wiggled and prayed my way out of the dress. Then I calmly put my clothes back on and walked proudly out. When the sales girl asked how did it do, I very loudly proclaimed it was too BIG. ← True story.

I am dedicating my body to science. I am sure they will be just as baffled as I am.