Yesterday we celebrated Gus' third birthday - dinosaur-themed, of course. So this included two cakes, a variety of snacky foods, 12 helium balloons, green & orange streamers and a house decorated with every dinosaur toy and figure we could find buried in toy boxes, bed sheets and bookshelves (and I can tell you, there were plenty). The funny thing is that very few of our friends have kids so it was really an adult party (our's were the only kids in attendance), which always makes it interesting when determining which grown-up would like the stegosaurus tail for their cake piece. It was a great gathering and Gus was thrilled with the attention and load of gifts. Once everyone had gone home and all of the kids were tucked away with visions of dinosaurs with watermelon-gummies-for-spikes dancing in their heads, Brad and I got comfy in front of the TV and tuned in to the 2012 Grammy Awards. And my fibromyalgia symptoms kicked in. For those not familiar with fibro (and if you're in the know, you call it "fibro," so feel free to use that term and become wildly popular in a crowd complaining of fatigue and aches), the Mayo Clinic defines it as: a disorder characterized by widespread musculoskeletal pain accompanied by fatigue, sleep, memory and mood issues. Researchers believe that fibromyalgia amplifies painful sensations by affecting the way your brain processes pain signals. There's a variety of symptoms. Mine include pain in the joints in my knuckles, wrists, elbows, hips, knees and ankles, along with trouble sleeping, tingling in my arms and the occasional case of the blues. I'm taking an anti-depressant to help with pain management, which definitely improves things. But I still do have some off days, especially when I'm not getting enough rest or have some added stress. Like a three-year-old's birthday party.
So...there I sat on the couch, hands puffed up and aching, ankles tingling and with the inability to stand straight up as I made a few trips to the kitchen. And what were we watching?!?! The one yearly show on television that can make a 41 year feel like a 95 year old - the Grammy's. I was a little too excited over Springsteen and the Beach Boys. I believe I said out loud "I hope Glen Campbell sings Southern Nights! I had that 45!" and "doesn't Taylor Swift look sweet?" Then, of course, there was the "what IS that?" comments regarding DeadMau5 (don't get me started on the spelling that, by the way, I had to look up) and Nicki Minaj. I'm still lost about who or what she was singing about and now I wish there was an exorcism for getting performances out of one's head. I had my standard "I'm going to start wearing that" comments regarding whatever was glued to Lady Gaga's face, and "I think that was our wedding dance" about Chris Brown's maneuvers. But for years now, I can't help but feel old watching this show. I always have to look up the ages of the performers. It's hard to learn that international superstar, Rihanna, is almost 20 years my junior. For the record, I changed hair color numerous times in my twenties too!
So the clock doesn't go backwards. It doesn't, right? I'll most likely never be a rockstar. This fibromyalgia can be a real punch in the gut sometimes. But I have three small humans who think I'm pretty cool and I'm hopeful this new food train I'm on will eventually bury the fibro symptoms. Perhaps I'll be working some fierce dance moves soon instead of working to get off the floor when playing with the boys. That's a pretty good goal, I'd say.