Everybody's Feet Under the Table

Two years ago I was talking to a good friend of mine after Thanksgiving. Both her sons had been home for a true family dinner. Her husband said to her, "You're happiest when everybody's feet are under the table." I love that.

We had such a meal this evening, although Labor Day week-end seems an unlikely family holiday. These days I appreciate any time we can all be together, and tonight it worked out that everyone could be here for dinner.

Everybody's feet under the table ~ time enough to sit down and share a meal. Dinner time ~ traditionally the time our family spent together to talk about the events of the day.

Even now, whether there are two of us or five of us, we sit down together for dinner, a meal loosely defined by anything from frozen pizza to meatloaf and potatoes. While the ingredients of the meal matter more some nights than others, the most important thing is to be at the table to eat at the same time. Some days it is the only time I see my youngest son, who currently lives at home while he works at a co-op through the fall semester.

It's a bonus for all of us to be at the table these days, and it's something that happens only a few times a year. I've learned to celebrate the times we do have together instead of bemoaning all of the times we don't.

Time spent at the kitchen table is time to connect, time to catch up on all that's happened since the last time we were together. There is no better way to make an occasion special than to have everybody's feet under the table.

Intimacy Before and After Menopause

My husband, Ken, and I have been together for more than 33 years. Our first date sealed the deal on our friendship. For weeks before that memorable evening we met nightly over coffee at Dunkin' Donuts, where we talked for hours. We liked each other and enjoyed being in each other's company. Ken and I knew we were in the relationship for the long haul before we donned our best duds and went out to dinner.

Our relationship was emotionally intimate before it was physically intimate. We shared what we were thinking, questioned each other's ideas, discussed our differences, made compromises, and dared to dream. It was important to me that I could talk to the man I loved.

Physical intimacy came as naturally as emotional intimacy had. We were a good fit. When we made time to talk, our relationship flourished. We married, moved, bought a house, and started a family. We needed both emotional and physical intimacy for our marriage to stay strong.

When we reached an impasse in our marriage, communication suffered and so did physical intimacy. There were times when we had different goals and couldn't agree; it was hard to talk without fighting and we grew apart. Sometimes it was physical longing that brought us back together, so we could again hear what the other had to say. Sometimes it was a recognition of all we had to lose, if we didn't make things right, that started us talking and led us back into each other's arms. Emotional and physical intimacy went hand in hand for us.

After three decades together, and as our children became adults, Ken and I looked forward to spending more time as a couple. We had come full circle and could again focus on each other. What I didn't anticipate was how menopause and postmenopause would affect the intimate relationship I had with my husband. We had always found a way to work through problems together. For the first time, I had to find answers on my own.

Initially, it wasn't apparent to me how much things had changed. I was tired, my body was changing, and I didn't react in the same way when my husband and I were physically intimate. Ken was patient, and I was frustrated. We talked about it, as much as I was able because I didn't understand what was happening. I was well into menopause, so I thought the worst was over. Ken and I continued to communicate, which is what I've always counted on to keep us close. This time, when I needed it most, it didn't help to talk about what was going on. When talking didn't help, I stopped making the effort to explain my experience, and our communication suffered.

In the past, we used emotional and physical intimacy to build our relationship. When we were low in one, we compensated with the other. We tag-teamed the emotional and the physical to overcome hurdles. This time we didn't have enough of one to make up for the lack of the other, and I didn't know how to replenish our supply.

Was this the true "change?" Was this why couples moved to separate beds? Was this where loving looks replaced passion? Was this the end to my hope to reclaim the life my husband and I shared before we had children?

I decided "this" would be none of those things. I overcame my modesty and shared what I was going through with my massage therapist, who worked to loosen muscles in my back and abdomen, and my acupuncturist, whose treatments and herbs addressed my symptoms. I continued to use natural progesterone regularly, and lubricant became a mainstay. Over a period of months the situation improved. Then I hit the proverbial wall where things no longer continued to get better. And that is when I reached into the back of the linen closet and pulled out the estrogen cream that was prescribed for me last year. Intercourse is no longer painful, and physical sensation has improved in the last few weeks. I will continue to work on all fronts to get back to 100%.

I thought long and hard before I decided to post about my experience. It has taken me six hours to write the words that express what I want to say. I wish I had known what to be aware of. Neither Ken or I did anything wrong, but our relationship changed because we could not rely on what had always worked in the past. I needed to use a variety of strategies to solve the problem. I didn't need to lose the emotional and physical intimacy I have shared with my husband for the last 33 years.

Estrogen Cream Plus Natural Progesterone

*Note: My latest post at 50-something moms blog is titled From Childhood to Adulthood: How Do We Measure the Transition?

I had an acupuncture treatment today. I go once a month. She asks how I'm feeling and what my body is doing; she inspects my tongue, which I can't explain; and she takes multiple pulses, all through my wrists, and I can't explain that either. Based on what I say and my physical indicators, she determines what treatment is necessary. I told her today that I've felt more emotional than usual this week and haven't been hungry in the last week or so. Today's treatment was a series of needles on my right ear; needles in my lower legs; and one needle in my abdomen, the top of each hand, and my forehead. Then I relaxed to soft music for about twenty minutes. Without exception, I feel better after a treatment.

Today I shared that I have started using the estrogen cream that was prescribed for me over a year ago. She wrinkled her brow and asked, "And you're still using the natural progesterone cream, right?" The natural progesterone balances the unwanted effects of estrogen. I assured her I was still using the natural progesterone cream daily. I went on to explain that I used the estrogen cream every day for a week, and since then I have used it once a week. So far that has been enough.

Last week, for the first time in over two years, I did not need to use lubricant during intercourse and sex felt the way I remembered it. This is a good thing. A healthy sexual relationship is an important aspect of the intimacy my husband and I share. In my next post I will write about intimacy after menopause.

*An important note about the use of the creams I have mentioned here and in a previous post: Although natural progesterone is available at health food stores, it should be used according to the advice of your health care provider. A prescription is needed for any kind of estrogen cream, and your health care provider can talk about the options available.

All Politics Are Local

Introducing our new Democratic Headquarters!

This is where it will all happen, all the conversations and connections with neighbors to get out the democratic vote in November. We have the entire first floor, where there are windows on every side for the light to shine in. There hasn't been an office to represent our end of the county for many years. This is our year to fill state and federal offices with people who will represent, and act on behalf of, all Americans.

The office was cleaned and readied for Sunday's grand opening by volunteers, and it will be staffed with people who donate their time. I worked for two and a half hours today, and since I was the first one on the schedule it was my job to unlock the doors and set out the flags.

Signs for the candidates fill the windows and cover the walls. The counter in the front room holds literature, buttons, and bumper stickers. I walked through the sunlit rooms and imagined all the activity that this office will see in the next ten weeks. Meetings. Phone banks. Conversations with people we know and people we have yet to meet.

We may not be able to meet personally with Barack Obama or candidates for Congress, but we can support their campaigns, spread their message, and get out the vote. We will be able to meet with local candidates, whose campaigns rely on the work of volunteers. And, most importantly, we will chat with neighbors about the issues that impact our lives and the hopes we have for the future.

We cannot go back and undo all that has gone wrong. We can go forward, get involved, and elect people who will take our country in the right direction.

Feedback

I have received the first official feedback on my product, the IntiMat®. The woman who made the comments is a seamstress. It is the highest compliment that she thinks the IntiMat® is "made with excellent craftwomanship." The other feedback I have received, from people who market-tested my product, extols the virtues of the IntiMat® from a user's point of view. I appreciate the time people have taken to use my product and share their thoughts. This feedback tells me that I am on the right track.
[My etsy shop is at http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5700127. I invite you to visit.]

All morning I thought about why this feedback is so important to me. It matters. The last time someone had something to say to me about the job I was doing it was to tell me that I had too many ideas and I needed to stop making suggestions. Yeah, I still have a hard time wrapping my mind around that one, too. It looked like the perfect job for me....

In the spring of 2007 I was in my last semester of school for an MSW. I was taking four classes and working 20 hours a week at a non-paid internship. We had just moved, so life was busy and the timing wasn't good to take on another, albeit paying, job. But the position was just what I wanted: work, half-time, as a project manager and policy analyst. I was so excited! The first project was to work with principals from all over the state to update school policies around alcohol and substance abuse. As a teacher and a parent, I knew many of the issues. I also knew how important it was to include teachers and parents in the development of policy since they were often the ones left to explain and enforce the policy.

I started in with great gusto. The organization I worked for was a non-profit that relied on grants from other sources. I thought my first meeting with the representative of the funder of the project went well. The next day my supervisor informed me that she had gotten a call about the meeting; the word was that I had too many ideas and came on too strong. I relayed to her exactly what I said, and she agreed that that was my job. I asked her if she was going to back me up, but she said there wasn't anything she could do because we relied on the funder for more than this project. I backed off and did the very things I shouldn't have done - I lost my voice and gave away my power. I believed everything that was said about me. I went quiet, just like a submarine in enemy waters.

Looking back, I know I was too exhausted to handle the situation the way I would have under different circumstances. My mind went blank and I forgot everything I know about how to compromise, collaborate, and create solutions. I found myself weighing every word I said and stopped sharing ideas based on my experience and education. I watched while meetings were mismanaged and opportunities to work with stakeholders were lost. I gave up.

Then my mother had a stroke, and I took time off to be with her. That is when I decided I needed to quit the job and find the me I had lost. When I resigned, I took responsibility for how I handled the situation. Once I left, the job was restructured to research/project "assistant" and someone with less experience was hired.

That experience is why the positive feedback about my product is so important. It matters to me that my work meets my standards for excellence, and it feels good to have someone else recognize that, too.

High on Hiatt

Ken and I had the experience of the summer last night - an outdoor concert by our favorite singer/songwriter on the perfect August evening at the flagship LLBean store in Freeport. The concert was free, but you never would have known that by the performance John Hiatt and The Ageless Beauties put on for the crowd. From the opening with "The Tiki Bar is Open" through three encore numbers, it was two hours of pure joy. We sang, tapped, swayed, clapped, and were happily carried away by music and lyrics.

John played guitar all evening and was accompanied by band members on guitar, bass, and drums. We usually see him perform solo, so we enjoyed watching his delight in playing with a band. John was on fire last night. The energy on stage was electric and palpable. The crowd cheered with recognition as each song began. We know his music, and we're not afraid to sing along.

There were surprises, too. John played a guitar intro to "Cry Love" that we've never heard, and he sang the last encore of "Have a Little Faith in Me" while he played guitar instead of the usual keyboard. No complaints about the missing keyboard; the back-up band was a fair trade.

Ken and I discovered the singer John Hiatt in 1994. Unknowingly we had been listening to his songs for years, songs sung by a variety of artists. One night at dinner Ken and I wondered if the other had heard the song "Perfectly Good Guitar" on the radio. Yes! The song was enjoying air play on our favorite station, and we listened for more music by John Hiatt. We were not disappointed when we heard "Walk On" and "Cry Love." The purchase of CDs followed, and we attended our first John Hiatt concert in 1995.

Last night was an evening to remember. It may well be the highlight of our summer. And the best thing? We have his music on CD to keep us in tune until his next concert.

Survey of the Yard

I added "Claude Monet of the Day" to my homepage. A different Monet painting is posted each day, and I see it every time I open Internet Explorer. The painting replaces CNN headlines. Beauty instead of fear was a good choice.

This week marks one year that I have been doing everything "house" - painting, unpacking, painting, organizing, painting, clearing out...you get the idea. On the week-ends Ken and I have installed shelves in every closet, hung photos and artwork on the walls, painted and adjusted doors, organized the garage, installed a TV antennae, stained the deck, and started to think about where we need to start with the property, which brings me to the visitor I had yesterday.

I've gotten to know a woman who lives in town and knows everything about gardens. She said she'd be glad to come by and take a look at our yard, a term I use loosely. We had a good visit yesterday morning over coffee and cake. She said that our yard has so much potential - there's that word again. As we walked around the house, she found a natural ledge that I had not noticed before. We talked about trees that need to come down and others that need to be pruned. Any work we want to do on the driveway should be done before we start planting. She suggested chipping trees and brush, instead of burning, so we will have wood chips for ground cover - something else I hadn't thought about.

We agreed that there is a lot of work to do. It will be an ongoing project. She laughed and said that's the nature of working outdoors. She said I will have so much to keep me busy that I won't have time to worry about finding a job outside the home.

Working inside the house and painting outside has certainly given me enough to fill my days. Those tasks are different than working in the yard, with my hands in the dirt and time spent with nature. I feel disconnected - and unexpected tears appear. Pay dirt. Looking for connection. It's time to head outdoors.