Whole30 :: Day 7

Okay, honestly, who saw this coming?

I got my period this morning.

Clearly, my menses will always, always get the better of me, when it comes to the PMS blinders.  It's the nature of the she-beast, though, no?  Like this cycle, I have never been able to get past thinking/feeling "well, maybe it's PMS".  I have never been able to know that's what it is and settle down rather than shriek or feel desolate.

This time, my mind played a trick on me and I lost a week.  So, even though last Friday was the 28th day since my last period (and I was very regular for years), I very much thought my period wasn't due till this weekend.  Hence, not being sure of the PMS because the timing was a bit off.

Even though I knew it might be PMS, and even though I informed Cap of this, when I am in the throes, nothing is enough.  The nature of my she-beast.

I woke up this morning and my stomach/gut ached for the first time in a couple of days (a "symptom" the switch to Paleo had already begun to smooth out) and when I stepped out of bed, my feet were stiff and ache-y (another "symptom" that has come and gone over the past few years that had recently been gone).  I wondered what the heck was going on...till I went to the bathroom.

My mind feels pretty clear (yay!), but the de rigueur wiped out mantle is heavy on my shoulders.  It's okay, though, because rather than feeling/being mired in overwhelmed as I have been the past couple of days, I know in my bones that this is a brief way station on my path to well-being.

I made some mayo this morning while the kids ate breakfast (Gem held the bowl for me while I whisked, whisked, whisked).

And, though all I wanted was a cookie or two with my iced coffee, I forced myself to eat some protein, instead. On my way to the trashcan to chuck the last of the spurned home fries, I was overtaken by the desire not to waste food and tossed them, instead, into my favorite bowl with some mayo and pesto and hard-boiled eggs.  (Notice how different the color of the yolk is?  Anthony's hens have been suffering from the heat, too!  The eggs are smaller and the yolks nowhere near their usual orange when cooked.)

Peace and love.

Coffee

Crap.

It has occurred to me that my now habitual/ritual coffee drinking may have contributed to the crazy emo-chemical PMS I've been experiencing.

Is nothing sacred?!  Serenity now!

Burst

Underwater.  In stasis.

Flummoxed.  Dismayed. 

I had a tiny bit of PMS at the end of last cycle.  Then DMS (during menstrual syndrome) after my period started which was more intense.  Then after barely a week in between I went into what I was jokingly describing as POS (pre-ovulation syndrome).  Which I've never experienced before.

I ain't laughing anymore.  Last night I experienced a powerful surge of chemical storminess that had me flailing and shrieking for a lifeline.  Problem is, how I am feeling doesn't translate well during such moments and I appeared to Cap a bitter and angry hormonal maniac.

Two things happened back-to-back that on a "normal" day I would find barely to a little annoying.  I know because they are things that have happened before.  Familiar.  When I am PMS hormonal, these familiar non-events suddenly bloom into problems with no solutions and drive me crazy. 

I take it personally, really hard.

In the last year or so, the surges have not been so difficult/I have found it easier to ride them out while silencing the beast, so to speak.  I've been much more able to just keep my mouth shut knowing that how I felt was going to pass.

Not so much last night.  I opened my mouth wide and the scream was not silent.

Fury, hurt, fear (of rejection), utter and base desperation...where does it all come from?  Is it old stuff buried/held in me?  Is it less emotional and more powerfully chemical (from having consumed more grain/gluten lately...from having switched up my herbs...from a new perimenopausal level reached)?

Unleashed.  Unhinged.

After my system, which literally felt like it blew up, restored some equilibrium, hindsight refocused immediately to 20/20.  But, by then, the damage had been done to my partner.  It was a TKO and he climbed into bed before I did.  Which, almost never happens.  Unless he's sick.

I attacked.  Viral (hopefully not bacterial).  Took my baby down.

My blood was throbbing.  I took some emergency herbs.  Watched the penultimate episode of Weeds on my laptop.  And went to bed.

One kid climbed in and then another.  Their warm bodies anchored me as I was buffeted about by dreary dreams.  When I awoke, I swear, my belly felt crampy.  My first thought: am I getting my period again (two weeks early)?  My second thought: am I having a miscarriage (even though, technically, structurally, there is no way this could be true)?

Lingering crazy.  (But that's how strong the throes were last night.  I felt like I was in the clutches of something impossible.)

In TCM, an episode of diarrhea can be viewed positively.  It's an example of the body/system expelling something that had been stuck...something that it doesn't need or want.  I am wondering if I can take this perspective with last night's episode of what felt like chemical/emotional vomiting.

At least now that this has happened, I can raise my awareness and cordon myself off next time: to spew in private and clean myself up before re-entering relationship to others.  Interestingly, I have never liked vomiting (I know...who does?)  Something about the loss of control...

(I have a deep old rusty need to keep stuff in.  In such diametric opposition to my Aquarian nature.  Maybe this is why my shoulders/neck are so tight lately?)

I can see now that when I am feeling that PMS-y vomit coming on, I have an instinct to latch onto Cap for protection. 

For saving.

But, no one can save you from vomiting.  The instinct might feel real, but in reality it simply doesn't make sense.  Vomit needs to happen, it's actually good for you, and it is unstoppable.

Listen to your body.

I'm outie.  Busy day ahead.  Thank you for reading.

Peace.

The 411

Sleep...good solid complete sleep has been tricky since Williamsburg.  While we were there our bodies were crashing into bed after all the active delights of the days...but the beds were not as comfy as our own.  Then we had three nights at home (the first of which was an exhausted and late one after the day spent traveling home) followed by five nights with houseguests.  We gave them (a family of four) the big bed/room and Cap and I slept on the pullout in the living room.  The boys were not able to make their semi-regular migrations to the big bed.  Our guests left before dawn on Monday.  Four days later we four are struggling to find our sleep mojo.  It'll come, these things can take time.  In the meantime, I gaze upon this photo of a child sleeping soundly in broad daylight...and smile.

Interesting PMS this month.  Some sweet-n-salty type cravings (dinner tonight was a bowl of ruffle chips and homemade ranch-y dip...dessert will be what remains of my pint of Ben & Jerry's Pistachio Pistachio...an ice cream that renders all other ice cream irrelevant).  Some sleep difficulty.  Some mood stuff.  Some "crazy" internal/sensory stuff.  All very manageable and knowable.

But, there's a new sheriff in town and she has caught me off guard.  I bought Gillian Flynn's first novel, Sharp Objects, last week because I could not get it through the library and had been waiting for her third (and highly acclaimed) novel for awhile from the library.  It was a fast, intense and solid read.  And left me wanting more.  I requested her second novel before I finished the first one.  But, there is a wait for that one, too.  In a fit of PMS-y impulsivity, I bought the second novel yesterday.  Last night I sat down and read a page of it.

It was chilling.  And creepy.  And then the chilling, creepy protagonist sounded absolutely "normal"...and I freaked out.  Exponentially chilling and creepy!  I couldn't read anymore I was so freaked.  I can't remember the last time I felt this kind of emotional vulnerability reading a book.  One page of a book.

Oy.  My cycle.  You keep me on my toes.

My latest batch of crap to process is kicking my ass.  This is what it has looked like on the big table for a couple of days now.  Cap invited some gamers over to play Villains and Vigilantes with him and the kids tonight so I was bumping up against a deadline.  In the end, I moved most of this crap right back on top of my dresser (ie. hidden from company) because I spent much of the afternoon doing this...

This has been my jewelry box since elementary school.  It holds a lot.  I went through it today with determination and I am almost done (including the bunch of smaller boxes that contained a further assortment of random jewelry).  I think I reduced my collection by nearly 50%.  It was sweet remembering the (so) many stories that accompany the pieces.

A mood cross.  So funny.  I don't remember how this came in my possession, but I do remember loving it as a kid.  Very sixties, don't you think?  A keeper.

My parents gave this to me in grade school.  My name is engraved on the girl.  Keeper.

I am letting go of a lot of earrings.  I amassed quite a collection, mostly during college and my year in Hiroshima.  My mother has also given me many pairs from her various travels.  I am keeping maybe two dozen pair and getting rid of easily double that.  This lovely handmade pair I am keeping.  Diane made these for me in college.  I have always loved them dearly.

So I guess it could be said that I have a watch collection.  Surprise!  Again, each one has a story.  Each a souvenir of a specific time and/or place in my life (three of them were gifts).  I decided to keep all of them, for now.

Old jewelry/accessories.  Each object has its history...a story to tell.  Junk or treasure depending on the (be)holder.  

I am considering punching through my old pierced ear lobes.  I stopped wearing earrings altogether after Gem was born.  (His birth was preceded by a decade of working with very young kids with special needs where wearing dangle-y jewelry from ears, neck or wrist could invite yanks, twists and breaks...which precipitated a decline in my level of self-adornment.)  Realizing what a trove of pretties I have at my disposal...makes me want to wear them again.

I also made some food today.  I've been tired and PMS-y and I guess a tad overwhelmed.  Not much cooking has been happening.  But the CSA veggies keep coming!  The Jersey toms have been delectable.  Fresh, local mozzarella, red Hawaiian sea salt, a drizzle of olive oil...I barely missed the fresh basil.  (And loved the chives we got this week!)

Peace and love.

The "one who cooks"

Something Robb Wolf says in his book has been sinking into me the last 24 hours.

0. "First, I feel like you should know that it’s not your job to please everyone. If you’re cooking for one, congratulations, you are lucky. If you have a spouse, children, or other family members, then you know as the “one who cooks” sometimes it can feel like you’re a line cook in a busy restaurant full of ticked off customers. Well, you are not a short order cook, nor is this Burger King where they get to “have it their way.” If you’re investing the time into meal planning, shopping, and cooking, then you get to make the decisions about what’s in the kitchen cabinets and ultimately what lands on the dinner table. We’ve got some strategies for making sure your family feels involved and heard, but unless they are willing to share the responsibility of cooking, shopping, and planning, you choose the meals."
   

This has given me pause.  Great pause.  The time, energy and money that would be saved if I shifted my attitude about "what lands on the dinner table"?  A lot, I think.  I haven't thought of myself as a line cook, per se, but it is true that these days there are usually two to three (and yes, sometimes four) separate meals being served at any given mealtime.  It is extremely rare for us to be sitting down to the same meal, as a family.

The evolution of our mealtimes has not been inorganic.  Each of us brings unique palates, intolerances/allergies, and dietary modifications of choice, to the table.  Additionally, Cap's schedule, as wonderfully flexible as it is for homeschooling purposes, has historically kept him from eating dinner with us on a regular basis.

But now, as I consider questions like: "should the kids go Paleo?" and "should we all go gluten-free?" and "are the kids old enough to fend for themselves in the kitchen?", that paragraph above felt like a perfect catalyst.

Here is an opportunity to tie some of these strands together.

: :    : :    : :

My PMS is coming "post" again.  It's funny.  I am reminded of a much younger version of myself when I used to never anticipate PMS and would only realize I was PMSing as my period would arrive.  I appreciate the experience of not knowing even as it involves my body and mind in such an intimate way.  I am presently buzzing uncomfortably an hour after downing handfuls of chocolate chips in a fit of hormonal frenzy.

: :    : :    : :

Watching the sunlight, wind and leafy leafy trees dance and whip about and settle...over and over.  I am at rest, comparatively, still feeling a bit vulnerable from the itty bitty thing of a virus that passed through here.

0.  
   

Regaining rhythm

We got home late Wednesday night.  This afternoon, I felt normal again.

That took three days.

Though feeling normal was preceded by some raging PMS.

Focusing on the good, the kids and I went to the farmer's market this morning and it was cold!  I was inspired by the hardy and hearty farmers and vendors out there despite the serious chill.  We trotted from stall to stall picking up meats, cheese, eggs, apple cider and veggies.

Snippets of ideas for meals began to form in my mind.

At home, I browsed through some recipes online (Nom Nom Paleo has become a recent favorite) and made a shopping list for Whole Paycheck.  Luckily for the three of us, I was able to drop the kids off at Danielle's for a playdate with Owen (I was very irritable).  Then, I went shopping by myself...which is always enjoyable.

This afternoon, I cooked and baked.  I shimmied to my "As Chill Descends" playlist as I washed, chopped, sautéed, simmered, eyeballed, etc. etc.  I was in my element.

It dawned on me that I had not realized how much being dislocated from my kitchen, and my rhythm around food and feeding, had thrown me.  I felt out of sorts while away, but hadn't pinpointed this very specific reason.

I baked a Paleo bread.  I made turkey-stuffed acorn squash (and remembered the red bell pepper, which looked good, but really changed the flavor...not sure I'm going to include it next time).  I prepped broccoli and bacon to roast for dinner.  I popped the ground lamb in the fridge to defrost for moussaka, which I will make for the first time tomorrow or Monday.

We are having to curtail our use of the dishwasher because it has been discovered that it has a slow leak.  Unfortunately, our landlord cannot begin the process of replacing the dishwasher until after the 14th.  So, we just have to wash by hand as much as possible.

So, I washed dishes, glasses, silverware, pots, pans, cutting boards, knives, you get the picture, over and over again.

Finally sat down with a cup of milky chai tea around 3pm and watched this week's Dexter.

Then, I retrieved the kids and we started picking up the living room and their bedroom.  Running the vacuum this weekend would be a very good thing.  Dusty, dusty.

For dinner, I roasted the broccoli and bacon (it was amazing), cooked up some frozen haricots verts, and grilled a rib-eye steak for the first time.  It was a good dinner.

I am feeling like a much better mother this evening.  I've drawn baths for the kids, made them Cold Prevention tea with honey (a Master Lu blend), and am starting a new routine of rubbing them both around 8:30, before I get too tired and shut off.

Here are the boys before they headed out for local trick-or-treating last night.  A red cat and an Enderman.  They had fun.

Tomorrow, I am going out early to hear Silke's Early Music recorder ensemble play between services at a local church.  I'll be with Sag at a Learning Pirates practice (his Lego Robotics team) all afternoon.  There is still much to do to get the apartment in order (less because of the power outage/dislocation and more back to what we were dealing with before with the push to declutter and reorganize).

We host common meal again next week which means it has been a month since we started the process with the living room...which we still haven't finished.  Stand down, stress, stand down.

I've been awake since 5am...looking forward to going to bed...

Ooo-ee

Spluttering irrational rage.  Towards Cap, in full and partial view and hearing of the kids.

The silver lining is that I caught myself shortly thereafter.  Cap's feelings are infinitely more important and precious to me than whether or not he made burgers or hotdogs for dinner for the kids.  Amends have been made to all three of my men.  (They are very forgiving.)

I am teary.  Like the tide hasn't gone out completely.

Out of sync

The mind and body are so interesting.  I am probably getting as much "done" today as I did yesterday (either way simply scratching at the surface of the list of "things to do"), but today I feel much less productive.

The reason is, I feel much less "on".  I think I am PMSing.  I feel out of it.  I don't feel sharp and honed and sleek.  I saw Vinny yesterday and it's possible there has been a release of "stuff" my body is slowing down to process today.

In any case, another favorite photo from Massachusetts before I turn my attention to the mucho laundry to fold whilst catching up on The Closer.