midlife crisis stage 7 (8? 135? who’s counting?)

As far as I can remember (being too lazy to walk into the other room and get “the book” in order to cite it directly) women go through various “brain” stages, almost entirely dependent upon hormonal changes. (I know, right? So much for thinking we’re “making decisions” or “finding ourselves.” Apparently we’re all just victims of estrogen and/or testosterone and/or progestogens; oh, that’s funny, at first I typed protestogens — Dyslexics of the world, untie! —  is that Freudian?)

So teenage years are rebellious, as burgeoning women fight for freedom and independence and search for sexual identity. (Again, I’m not quoting, I’m “remembering,” and probably citing as much from personal experience/memory as from anything any psychiatrist or sociologist said.)

The twenties are dominated by an ambitious tendency, gradually ceding into “mommy brain.”

In her thirties, a woman is wrapped up in nurturing her children, while perhaps trying to hang on to (by her fingernails, probably, if the first priority is any priority at all) her professional identity.

In her forties a woman begins to look beyond all of the people she has been taking care of and starts to think about taking care of herself.

In her fifties (supposedly, I am despitewhatyouallmightthink NOT THERE YET), a woman becomes quite “selfish” — looking to have HER needs met, and a last sprint/gasp professionally, so to speak, before the retirement years set in.

I don’t even want to think about what might happen in the sixties. I’m having a hard enough time with the fact that I’m going to be 47 in a few weeks, which is a helluva lot closer to 50 than it is to 40 and actually seems a helluva lot older than 46. Just sayin’.

Is this funny? I think so. But maybe that’s just my “Indecision Nucleus” talking. Oh, and btw, women can spell. Snap!

Anyway, I find I’m belying the 50s expectations in that my professional ambitions are waning. Yes, there’s a part of me that is kind of tired of being “mom” (sorry, Hannah) and ready to move on — looking forward to years with Husband and travel and beautiful meals together without anyone wrinkling up his or her nose and asking if it’s “spicy” or why we can’t eat hamburgers like normal people. (At the same time I would likeitverymuch if Only Daughter stopped trying to figure out how to be 18 and was just 10 for at least a little while longer.) But I’m finding that I just kind of want to do my job, be respected and paid fairly for it, and then come home and take a nap on my couch or knit or beat OD at Rummikub or get a dog or something.

Speaking of which, we might be getting a dog.

I’ve found a breeder that I know of and therefore trust who has a new litter of Coton’s — hypoallergenic, good temperament, small, and local, so I can visit and become acquainted with the puppy rather than adopt from a rescue (enough of that, have been on that emotional roller coaster for several weeks now) or buy from someone in another state and have the pup shipped sight unseen.

I’d post a picture, but the breeders aren’t very “techie” so there aren’t any available. Am hoping to visit next Thursday, so will keep you all posted.

Here’s a “generic” Coton”

Can a dog be cuter than this? I didn’t think so.

ANYWAY,  see? I can’t even keep my mind on my “work.”


I’m supposed to be planning Friday’s seminar right now.

Instead I’m drinking way better Scotch than I can afford (thank you, Husband dear) and wondering if there are 30 Rock reruns on cable.

So much for professional ambitions.

And the funny thing is, I don’t really care.

Although maybe that’s the scotch.

7 Responses to “midlife crisis stage 7 (8? 135? who’s counting?)”

  1. October 31, 2011 at 9:49 pm

    I like this post. I read this book and found it really good. I am a man but I still read the book so that I could learn more about the opposite gender. Life and people are extrodinarily complex. Even thought the book is great I feel that I’m only a little bit better for having read it because again life and people are so complex. Still, I would greatly recommend this book to others.

    In my my own life I can’t really tell if I really have matured or if my testosterone has waned in old age. Thanks.

  2. November 2, 2011 at 9:00 pm

    Sheriji, I’m afraid I have to wonder whether you’ve been drinking a little too much of that Scotch. On more than one occasion you’ve complained about the problems that hair causes when cleaning. I don’t know anything about the “Coton” but I look at that picture and I see hair . . .and lots of it!

  3. November 9, 2011 at 2:23 pm

    Interested in why you don’t want to adopt from a rescue? There are so many dogs/cats euthanized in shelters each year that getting a dog/cat from a rescue or the pound is the way to go. Breeders don’t really need to breed, and it just adds to the over-population of pets, which leads to over 8 million animals being euthanized every single year. If you can find a Coton from a rescue, why not get the dog there? That way it discourages breeders (except those who really know what they are doing, which is a small minority of breeders, sadly) and removes one dog from the euthanization equation.

    As to turning 47, I FREAKED OUT when I was going to turn 47. To me it was the gateway to 50. I felt the same as you. 47 seemed a LOT older than 46, for some reason. But it’s inevitable, so get used to it. I was so upset about turning 50 that my husband and I planned and went on a cruise for that birthday. Turned out to be a great time and a lovely memory. I strongly suggest you plan something BIG and wonderful for your 50th. Otherwise I can predict a long depression in your future! 😉 50 is NOT the new 30, fuck that. I don’t feel a bit like I did when I was 30 at 50. But you do get more selfish, and you do worry less about what others think of you, that part is true.

    • November 10, 2011 at 8:23 am

      I applied for, paid a fee for, and then waited for 3 different dogs from 3 different rescues in the past 5 weeks. They were all placed with another family. I’m also concerned about the nature/temperament of a dog that’s been rescued from a puppy mill, and have a lot of piano students coming in and out of the house every week, so don’t want to have to worry about how they react to children, strangers, etc. I’ve actually been looking for a suitable dog from rescues and shelters for about 2 years, and really actively in the past couple months. It’s just too much of a roller coaster for me.

      One of the applications was for one of 5 Coton puppies; the only other Coton puppies I can find from rescues are too far to visit personally or seem to have some behavioral concerns because of their past. I tried. I gave up.

      A trip sounds like a great idea. Consider it done. Or maybe we can spend a semester in Italy by then.

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