5 ways estrogen could be killing you...

I know, kind of dramatic, huh?  But this is my journal, so I am journaling about my life today.  Do I think estrogen is really killing you? No idea. Perhaps if you are in the same circumstances I am, then it could be.   Do I think it is killing me?   Yes.  Why?  Here we go:

Number 1

Yes, here we have exhibit A:  the nearly graduated high school senior.  She is deceptively lovely and delightful. Talented, brilliant, loving, and mostly happy. BUT! Underneath that charming exterior lies a seething cauldron of teenage angst, independence, and ESTROGEN.  She is ready to fly the coop, and I am ready to let her.  Don't get me wrong-I will miss my daughter, but the DRAMA she comes with, not so much: what drama you ask?  what to wear, what to major in, what to have for dinner, and my all time favorite, what to order in the drive through, which usually occurs immediately AFTER we order at the drive through.  Then there is the classic burst into tears if you ask me about my day, for no particular reason. It will probably be boring around here when she goes off to BYU in the fall. Then again, maybe not:  

                       Number 2

              

That's because we have exhibit B-the middle schooler!

She is also lovely and delightful.  Also, very responsible, self-motivated and organized.  Clearly brilliant and talented as well.  But she got her mother's tendencies toward control-freakiness.  Is that a word?  It is now.  Mix that with the hormonal changes beginning to take place, and we have an ESTROGEN BOMB and no way to disarm it.  Luckily, she won't be leaving home for several more years, so she has some time to even out.  Because, once again:  DRAMA.  Usually about being late, or not doing things the right way, or most often about Number 3 doing something to drive her absolutely bonkers, like breathing.  You know, something annoying like that.  We LOVE puberty!

                        Number 3

Exhibit C-the 3rd grader.  DO NOT be fooled by that smile.  Or those dimples.  Or those big, gray/blue eyes.  This girl can throw some world class tantrums.  I don't know if it is a function of the estrogen, or of being the baby of the family.  She is also beautiful, brilliant, talented, and kind.  But she can push every one of my buttons. I think we are finally starting to outgrow some of that; probably just in time to arrive at puberty!  Yay.


                                               Numbers 4 and 5

Exhibit D and E:  the dogs.  Who are both girls.  I know.  Why we have so many girls in this house, I don't know.  But there it is.  They are spayed, but they still have estrogen.  How do I know?  Because they are also dramatic little princesses.  They spend their days ordering me around to let them in.  Or out.  Or feed them.  Or water them.  Or put them on the bed.  Well, that is just Sara, our 13 year old dog.  Sugar just hops right on top of me, and nestles in between my legs like that is her bed.  They are also cute and brilliant.  

Actually, maybe I should be Number 5, because I have entered the wondrous world of perimenopause. What is that you ask?  Well, it is all the ups and downs of the 11 year old, with the tantrums of the baby, and the insecurities that the high-schooler has!  Plus, night sweats.  Fun stuff. I really think it might kill me.  But don't feel sorry for me.  You should feel sorry for my husband.  Who,since Andy left for college and then a mission, is the ONLY man in this house of 6 girls.  Bless his heart.