The List

**Disclaimer** What you are about to read should in no way be taken as a complaint about my life in general since I am VERY content and happy and blessed. It is just a rambling complaint about a very specific aspect of my life. The rest of me is wonderful and thankful and humble.


I am a list maker. Even if you don't know me well, you know this about me. Every day I make lists and I make lists for what lists I need to make and at night, before I fall asleep, I make mental lists for the next day.  It is what I do. 

I have two perpetual lists. One is what I call: The 50 Things I Want To Do Before I Die list, or for short, The 50 list.  It is perpetual because as I cross things off from it, I add new things on. I have made quite a bit of progress on the original list but there are many wonderful things left to do. I wrote about this list awhile ago when writing about getting a college degree. It's on the 50 List. I'm almost there.

The second list is a list of questions I need to ask God when I get to heaven. The questions all begin with "why" and there are no answers here. I could make myself crazy trying to figure out the "whys" of somethings or I can just mentally add it to the list and not worry about it.  I add to this list much more slowly because I can accept most things that happen and be grateful for all I am blessed with. But every now and then, I get a little agitated and feel there is no real reason for something...so it goes on the list. I fully intend to get answers that will be wonderful and will calm my heart when I finally get to ask the questions.

This brings me to the "Why" that is most on my mind right now. It has to do with "hot flashes" so if you don't want to read about graphic girl bodily functions, stop reading now.

The question is quite involved and it goes something like this:

"Is it not bad enough that by the age of 12 or earlier, we young girls begin having regular, monthly periods? And that maybe these periods weren't in and off themselves a big enough pain so we get to endure weight gain and/or bloating, migraines, breast tenderness, messiness and "accidents" at very inappropriate times. These periods include cramping that could send a grown man to his knees, mood swings, and hair loss. All this lasts 5-9 days, every month, year in and year out.  And because of these periods, we get to add a layer of fat around our belly and butt and thighs and as an added bonus, we get to fight that fat our whole lives. Apparently this isn't enough for us because since these things are all run by hormones, we also get to lose our libido each time we have any of these hormonal changes: periods, pregnancy, nursing, menopause. Seriously? It's not bad enough that we have to go through all this each month, now those of us who are married, get to feel intense guilt also??? Our husbands, as understanding as they are, are not getting their needs met...really? And then, after a lifetime of this, we get to have menopause. I have been a trooper through it all and not once complained, really. Because of these hormonal changes and monthly periods, I have been blessed to be a mother and so I accept it as it is. But menopause seems to be a little over the top. As we are working on trying to accept that we no longer are capable of reproducing and all the mental trauma and identity crisis that brings, we get to muck through this. Don't get me wrong, I am thrilled beyond words that I don't have to be giving birth and raising babies at this age, but after all these years of enduring, could we be sent out to pasture with a little more dignity? I mean, sexually speaking, we become genderless. Is this not enough?

I can happily accept everything else, (and here is the why), but WHY hotflashes? What is the purpose? Did we not suffer enough through the years of enjoying girlhood and womanhood? Is this one last hurrah? Do we really have to feel like we are going to combust from the inside out?? Several times a day and all night long??? Is it not bad enough that we get fat, have saggy boobs, can't sleep, and just want to be dear friends with our husbands? Is it really necessary that we turn beet red, sweat in the middle of winter and fan ourselves several times during every social function? A friend once told me that she makes it through hot flashes by thinking that it is God giving her a hug. I wish I had that kind of love and attitude. She sees it as a little bit of heaven on earth. I, on the other hand, see it as a glimpse of what hell feels like. So, since I don't have the answer and have no way of getting the answer, I sigh, and add it to the list.