Gravity is a Bitch

man-person-woman-face

There are two things about mid-life that I don’t like. One is the menopause (which in my case has been a bit shit) and the other is the fact that everything and I mean EVERYTHING starts to head south.

I started off with youthful skin (once the zits had cleared up) and everything was nice and firm. I had no wrinkles, no sagging and no unsightly jowls. Speaking of which.. sagging jowls used to be an ageing thing but these days younger women are developing the unsightly bastards due to spending hours on end hunched over their mobile phones.

Did you just straighten up?

Now I am menopausal. POST menopausal, if you please, because my ovaries threw in the towel when I was 39. I had The Boy at 38 and my body never recovered. It wasn’t supposed to happen for another ten years but Mother Nature obviously considered three offspring of mine more than enough for any planet.

Fair nuff.

My face is ‘lived in’ like a comfy old sweater or a well worn pair of slippers. My skin is like an old handbag unless I spend three hours a day slavering cream on it. I have wrinkles around my eyes, a second chin (three depending on camera angle) and the beginnings of a moustache which I keep on top of using a pair of tweezers.

It’s the face of a woman who sprays her hair with pit spray and her pits with hairspray.

It’s the face of a woman who frequently walks into a room and stands there looking vacant while she struggles to remember what she went in for. Ten minutes later she gives up and trundles off to do something else, like vacuum the lawn. At 3am the next morning the poor sleep-deprived lunatic finally remembers what it was she went in there for. Trust me ladies, you have all this to look forward to.

This is going to happen..

The menopause has robbed me of my marbles, not that I had many to start with. I’m forgetful and confuse things like when I referred to Midsomer Murder’s John Nettles as ‘Jim Nettles’. I’ve become that lady who once confused a pop song with a soap opera and came up with Betty Turpin’s Eyes. True story.

I stand there whacking my hand against my forehead in an attempt to dislodge the information but it never comes and, ‘No. It’s gone’ has become my catchphrase. In fact, I’ll have that on my gravestone.

The biggest change though is my body.

I know it’s my body because my head is attached to it but I feel like Austin Powers every time I look at myself.

“Honestly, That’s not mine!“.

The thing is that it can be quite a shock when you really look at yourself. You notice the wibbly bits, the nipples that point south and a backside that’s considerably lower than you thought it was despite the fact that your knickers have become considerably larger in order to accommodate it. I think it’s been more of a shock to me because it hasn’t been a gradual decline. It was only seven years ago when I was toned (ish) and had a fully functioning pelvic floor.

Then I had The Boy and my ovaries threw in the towel.

However, I do love my c-section scar. I love that line because of what it represents. It’s an awesome line. Also, surprisingly neat. So well done those NHS peeps who opened me up and stitched me back together. Nice job!

I am starting to accept that my body has changed beyond recognition and even if I was to embark on a keep-fit regime that Rocky Balboa standards – I’m never going to be the same because I’m minus the necessary hormones.

Hormones…

Those special little chemical messengers that keep body and mind running smoothly.

A word of warning to husbands/partners

You know that week out of every month where you daren’t open your gob? The tears? The tantrums? The plate hurling? The ‘ I’M LEAVING YOU!! BASTAAARD!!’ when you’ve called her ‘cuddly’?

Yes?

This is nothing compared to the menopause.

Build yourself a bloody big shed and be prepared to spend a lot of time in it. Get some electric in there and make it so that you’re self sufficient when she’s having one of her ‘do’s’. My dad rekindled his love of carpentry during Mum’s menopausal years. Luckily for him, he had a garage to retreat to when the going got tough. So you see, this uncertain time can be used to your advantage. Hormones can mean the difference between digging the garden with a spade and being buried with it so heed my advice and you might just survive with your testicles intacto.

Things settle down eventually (maybe never ha ha) but you will occasionally find the Missus passed out over a pile of old photographs taken of her when she still had youth on her side (and collagen) but this generally happens on birthdays. You must tread carefully here my dears… back away and pretend you’ve seen NOTHING. Go to your shed and lock the door..

As crappy as the menopause can be, the alternative is not living long enough to experience any of it and when I look at it that way, I consider myself fortunate. I aim to embrace mid-life and menopause with a liberal helping of humour as well as the occasional strop. OK, LOTS of strops!

Thanks for your time my dears and may your own decent into menopause be slow and graceful.

Got bags under your eyes, bigger hips and bigger thighs
You got places that you can’t even itch
You can nip it, tuck it, squeeze it
But you’re never gonna beat it
‘Cause gravity’s a bitch

~ Lambert, Miranda/Wray Scotty

Image via Creative Commons

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20 thoughts on “Gravity is a Bitch

  1. Hahaha I love that! It’s so good to see that you are able to have some humour even about such a bad situation. Just showing off there as I am not ready to meet the step of the menopause yet, jealous right?😝 More seriously, very happy to have come across your blog on #chucklemums, even if with people like you every week, I have no chance to grab those fab pants!!!! Just about to share on twitter too x

    #chucklemums

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Bloody hate this getting older thing Tracy but like you say, there’s only one other option and if that happens, all opinions and thoughts would go with us. As I’m writing this I just had a thought about the menopause, men should look at the word closely, MEN-O-PAUSE, *men* out there, *pause* and think about the pile of pooπŸ’© that is hitting us women and slapping us around the head so what was once a very capable wife, can no longer make a decision let alone be bothered about the said decision!! That nasty side of me with PMT has now been replaced with one that at the worse wants to smoother you when you sleep and I’ve had a good night if I make it to 3am. If I can be bothered to talk to you I have to try to keep my face in that position that looks interested in what you answer, cause actually I’ve wondered off into something else that’s on my mind, then when you’ve finally finished droning on, I’m pissed off because I can’t remember what I wanted to say next which believe me, was very important!
    My body, now there’s a thing, I’m so proud of it for bearing, carrying and giving birth to 3 good sized (last was 9lb 5.5ozs) healthy babies. Laughter lines, yes I love you, it’s proof that I was once happy. Actually, at 51, I don’t really have any wrinkles but like they say, you never see wrinkles on a blown up ballon🎈yes, that’s now the size of my head. Osteoarthritis, thank you for coming to visit my body but actually could you just f**k off because I’m fed up of searching for a free clothes hanger when I need to scratch my back and my arms just won’t bend, stretch and reach. Yes, I’m sure boobs, belly and bum are heading south but my double (thought again) my triple neck won’t let me look down that far!
    I’m sure I never properly appreciated my size 8, pert bum, boobs standing to attention and very nimble body. What I do appreciate now is reading (yes, reading glasses now requiredπŸ‘“) is managing to read without the glasses steaming up. Today I’ve started taking a Sage herbal remedy, its meant to help control body temperature. There is a positive to the heat, little Molly-Rose loves cuddling me in bed, “oh Nana, I love you, you are so warm to cuddle” I suppose that just might be worth a bit of heat!
    I wake up and think what the hell has happened to me and where has the real me gone but this is my new chapter of life………joy of bloody joys. Positivity is all I need, I used to have that but right at this minute I’ve forgotten where I put it! πŸ‘΅πŸ”«
    Sorry to have run on Tracy on your blog, once I started I couldn’t stop!πŸ˜‚
    Love you 😘xxxx

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    • I like it. It’s therapeutic lol. Run on as long as you like lovely. πŸ™‚ It bloody sucks at times that’s for sure. Some of the symptoms are horrible but the day I stop laughing about it is the day the toe tag will go on ha ha. Sage is good. Just watch what herbs you are taking while you are on medication as some of them react adversely. Check with your GP or pharmacist if you’re unsure. Massive loves and a big squeezy. xxxxxxx

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  3. Hate getting old. I hate that my small boobs are now small and floppy, that my vag doesn’t look as toned (or that nice too be honest) then I’m sure it did before the kids. The thing Im looking forward to is having no more bloody periods. After having the kids it now just seems like a really stupid waste and annoying waste of time!! πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚ anyway love this so much!! #chucklemums

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    • Not only do periods stop but you can wear white trousers RISK FREE! There are some perks lol. I haven’t looked at my vag for years. I suspect it resembles a week old kebab by now. Urgh lol

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  4. There’s not a lot to look forward to, is there? I’m 42 and even though the menopause hasn’t started, the early indications are there 😦 I too suffer from ridiculous short-term memory loss and there is the definite hint of a moustache that wasn’t there before, not to mention a small layer of flab which has appeared without me gaining any actual weight. How does that work?!
    Good to see your sense of humour is still intact though!

    Liked by 1 person

    • I went from peri-menopause to post menopause in 3 years which by the average standard is rapid, hence I’ve had it worse than most. It’s not getting my sense of humour though lol. The day I can’t find something to laugh at, you can tag me up and shove me in the deep freeze! πŸ˜‰

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  5. I’ve got really thick, I thought it was my thyroid but maybe is The Change haha. I only ever have a few a year any way, god knows how I managed to even get pregnant in the first place. #chucklemums

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    • Have you ever wondered WHY men have allotments? Now you know. ‘Just off to the allotment dear’! Ha ha. The good news is you should have a few more years before you reach this point. Hubs wasn’t so lucky. πŸ˜‰

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