Sunday, July 16, 2006
Robert Palmer knew nothing
When I grew into a mature high schooler (THAT is tongue in cheek), I could be in band camp and not have one problem.
However, once I hit college, and those band camps of high school years were a distant memory, I would SWEAT like nobody's business on the band field. I could be standing stick still and break a sweat. I would sweat all over the step during step aerobics. I was just a sweaty, nasty beast in college. And I was in pretty good shape then.
As the years have gone by, and unfortunately the pounds added on, that sweating hasn't gone away.
However now ... I fear that sweating is caused by something else: the hot flash.
Yes, you read it here first. I fear that I am peri-menopausal.
I am 36, going to be 37 in a few months. And here, my dear readers, is when you click on the X if you wish to not gain too much information:
I started my cycle when I was nine. Yes. Nine. I was home with my father, of all people, because the Mominator and mini Martha had taken off shopping in another town. Needless to say, it was a rather demeaning experience.
But now ... I thought that I had experienced sweating to the max. Was I ever wrong.
I dry my hair, I sweat. I sleep, I wake up drenched, my pillow is drenched, and so is the pillow that I clutch at night.
But what is the most embarassing is when I am singing in front of the whole congregation. I am on microphone one or two Sundays a month. The last two times, I was worse than any Sweathog you could ever imagine. Bleck.
So when the church decides to have the family picnic on THE hottest day of the summer so far, count me OUT! However, it wouldn't be anything for the church to witness me sweating.
So really, Robert ... Some Don't Like It Hot.... because that feeling of sweat dripping into your bra.... Gah!
I'm a mom of three peeps ... Queen Bee, The Door Man, and the Chandelier Monkey, and wife to Ace, the Helpful Hardware Man. I created this space to get away from the people known as my inlaws, and because life with three kids and a hubby is all Unexplored Territory.
Good Saturday Morning