Elf on the Shelf Moms: You Win.

I hate Elf on the Shelf.

I know I am not alone.   

The Elf itself is kind of retro-50s era Connecticut-Christmas cute. I'm not mad about that. I'm not even opposed to hiding the Elf around the house. I do think it's adding a layer of work to a holiday already filled with work. 

But, if it makes a kiddo happy, well OK.

No, I hate it because this new "holiday tradition" has become a a blunt object used in the ongoing Mommy Wars by a certain segment of mothers, some Menopausal some not, who feel compelled to show the rest of us, the majority of us, how fabulous and thoughtful they are because THEY really, really love their children so no extra step is too extreme. 

Their zealous tending and sharing, and sharing and tending, make me feel like I am just not trying hard enough.

 Not trying enough because I have a demanding 40-hour a week plus full time job.

Not trying hard enough because I am trying to do somethings for myself after 16 very kid-focused years. 

Not trying hard enough because I don't create flour "snowball" fights in my kitchen with a doll just so I can clean it up. 

The source of my hatred is two fold. 

One: Elf mission creep.

 There is the Elf ($30)

 An ever-growing assortment of Elf on the Shelf accessories. 

A push to have multiple elves especially if you have multiple children. 

You might need two because your Elf is lonely and needs a companion. 

Elf on the Shelf is now for birthdays.

I'm not sure what that Elf is counting down, or who Elf is reporting back to unless Santa is also engaged in mission creep and is taking over birthdays. 

Reason Two for Hating Elf  On the Shelf:
The elaborate scenarios that people, and by people I mean Moms.
 create for Elf.

Although the real moms I know who have drank the Elf Kool Aid generally seem to remember the need for a new location at 3 a.m. just before packing lunches and have only the engery to throw the Elf in the fridge where he will be found in the later morning clinging to a bottle of orange juice or fling him onto a high shelf in the den.

Other Moms, the Professional Internet Moms, go all out. They make lists and post them. They have a plan. They are having fun, damn it, and seem to say "look at all the thought I put into this lighthearted venture. Read my list! I rock being a mother and you, well, where is your list??"

But even Moms With A Plan don't grate on my nerves as much as Moms Who Make a Mess. I don't understand at all the Moms who throw flour all over their kitchen to show their Elf had a food fight. Or, below, bring in what looks like 10 pounds of sand to their entry way so they can clean it up later. 

I completely don't understand anyone who would shave their husband's head just to inspire a little extra Christmas magic.  And I hope it is someone's husband because if it isn't it is strange that the  Elf is witness to a crime and we all might be complicit in a felony.

To me it all screams of highly educated, highly creative women who got on the Mommy Track and now focus every bit of themselves --- Every Bit Of Themselves --- into making every moment of childhood magical and managed and fulfilling and, maybe there isn't even anything wrong with that, but they must tell EVERYONE that they are doing it. Better, apparently, than anyone else ever.

I come from the school of thought that sometimes, seriously, kids need to wonder about an imaginary friend and dream of Santa all on their own. My daughter's favorite thing when she was little was to make potions in the bathtub. I bought her bottles and bubbles and bath Crayons but I didn't digitize every wondrous thing that she did. (And some things were wondrous.)

It was the only time on most days that she was ever alone with her own thoughts and when she could do whatever she wanted.

So I will say this, Elf on the Shelf Moms, you win.

I don't have the time or inclination or the extra toilet paper to post a picture about how my Elf, who I imagine would be named Marvin Moonpants, wrapped my entire Christmas tree in Charmin.

But, please, this Menopausal Mom asks that the mission creep stops at birthdays. Let's not see the Elf on the Shelf Fourth of July Count Down Calendar.

Menopause has left me feeling deflated

Hello, It’s Mary….. Hello You Gorgeous Menopausal Moms!

It’s quite amazing what happens when losing weight and menopause coincide. I have lost 34 pounds since May. It appears that I’ve lost 15 pounds in each boob and four pounds scattered all across the rest of my body.

According to the National Cancer Institute, in a handy pamphlet about breast changes that aren’t cancer, when your hormone levels drop during menopausa breast tissue “becomes less dense and more fatty.” Apparently my lobes and lobules, crucial to milk creation, are also kaput.

(Kaput, by the way, is not the official medical term)  So I guess I was left with no density and more fat which left that particular area of my body while remaining in other areas. (Namely tummy and upper arms.)
In my case, again this is probably not how my doctor would say it, my boobs left to their own devices simply look deflated. 

Apparently that is not all that unusual.

 

Thankfully, a good bra, one size smaller, shoves them into the approximation of the space they once held on their own unassisted.  But, while I’ve never had a outsized, ongoing interest in their size and shape, it is kind of astonishing what difference a few months and a few pounds can make. I have looked in the mirror in a bit of wonder and awe. Somebody recently told me that older people are incredibly resilient because they are every adapting to a changing body. I totally get what they mean.

That doesn’t mean I’m sorry I have been losing weight.

I move through the world with more ease. I feel strong for maybe the first time ever and certainly the first time in a long time.

I’m kind of proud of myself. And believe me when I tell you if I can do it anybody can.

And, so far, I haven't had to go crazy.

I know some people do.  I have a friend who is a beast in the gym and a fiend at calorie counting. She has lost more than 50 pounds. And while she looks great, she seems to take little joy her transformation. And, unfortunately, she is also losing her hair.

I have taken a more laid back approach in part because the effort I am putting out is still showing some results. According to my Goggle Medical Degree that is because my friend had already been exercising pretty frequently while I had only been exercising my right to watch reality television while knitting. I think because of that I benefit from my slothfulness. 

My body is like, whoa, we’re moving!

What’s that about!?!

Boobs aside, which as we all know is where they go when we lay down, there have been other unintended consequences. My mouth literally watered the other day when looking at a pear, fig and feta cheese salad even though I’m not sure I had ever eaten that particular combination. It was delicious and I now have in my house the ingredients needed to make one. The second one was as delicious as the first. I soon will have a third.

Overall, actually, I have discovered an almost Pavlovian response to food stimuli that I never recognized before. I'm not sure that it is menopause-related but it is strange to notice at age 50. Maybe I have been spending too much time with my dog. 

I also know I have about 70 pounds to go before I am at the upper end of the range considered appropriate  for my height by those bastards at the National Institutes of Health. (I’m not sure I’ve been in that range since I was about 24 so I wonder about its validity.) Still it is something to shoot for and I’m heading in the right direction, one or two pounds at a time.

Here’s a weird thing. I feel so much better I forget how big I still really am. Sometimes I fool myself into thinking the current weight loss might be good enough and then see a picture and think…hmmmm…no you’ve got some work to do.

And, apparently, that's going to be a challenge because it's suppose to get significantly harder following menopause to lose weight. The Mayo Clinic says that has to do with the shift in muscle to fat as we age. It also offers these genius tips for menopausal women: Move more. Eat Less. Seek support.

I’ve been doing two of those, I guess now I’m doing the third. Feel free to support. I could seriously use it.

I'll keep taking the smallest of baby steps.

On Thanksgiving I ate turkey and gravy and stuffing and skipped the pie.

Today I met for the first time with my very own personal trainer. Maybe down the line she will have some suggestions about the boob thing. Or  maybe that's a bit too personal. I also think they are beyond being trained. #menopausal moms