Holding On...by Millie

It's Monday, and I have to admit, I am so glad it is a new week.  I'm not going to lie, last week was a week from...well I'm sure you can guess it's origins.   Unlike Judi, I've struggled with PMS from the time I hit puberty.  I felt like I learned to manage it pretty darn well when I was younger (don't ask my sisters though, they probably have a different opinion).  When I was a little cranky I would just get really quiet.  I stayed away and so did others.  Maybe I didn't really learn to deal with it, but it worked for me and I made it through my teen age years.

Fast forward to now.  My cooping mechanism has to change.  I can't stay away from everyone and stay really quiet; I have to take care of a little girl and husband.  I have to deal with other children and parents on the play ground and I have to go to church.

This week was probably the worst PMS week in a long, long time.  Poor Robert and Aurora had to deal with me all week and I'm surprised we all made it.   Obviously Robert has a really hard time understanding, he's a man and hasn't had his body try and sabotage his life.  So I came up with a pretty good analogy of what I have been feeling, and I'd like to share it. 

Sometimes I feel like I am holding on to a rope as tight as I can.  

This rope is hanging over a deep chasm,

at the bottom of the chasm there are flames.

I have to use all of my concentration to keep my grip, 

(Haws girls are not famous for their upper body strength)

As long as I keep my concentration I can stay high above the pit and the flames at the bottom.

The big problem is it is all an internal struggle, 

the pit and the flames are inside of me,

people on the outside cannot see how tight I am holding on...

and the distractions begin.

The distractions are many,

sometimes it's an unkind word, 

sometimes it's a toddler,

sometimes it's an inpatient husband,

and sometimes it's nothing.

But when I get distracted I forget to keep my grip tight and I start to slip.  

I don't completely fall, but by the time I refocus, I'm a few feet lower and closer to the flames.

Life isn't all bad on the rope though.

Sometimes someone helps by taking some of the weight from my grip,

a loving husband who does the dishes, or takes me mid-week date night,

a sweet kiss from the toddler that never gives kisses,

or a long conversation with a loving sister(s) who knows how to hang on.

Luckily holding on to the rope only takes major concentration about once a month, it seems like all the rest of the time I have a nice bridge to cross over the pit.  I look forward to this week and to that bridge coming back.

I guess I really understand now why every night my mom would say, "I'm at the end of my rope!"

So if this is your 'rope' week, hold on, this to shall pass and find a way to take some of the weight off.

-Millie