Friday, May 19, 2017

Fly On The Wall In The Old Folk's Home


     Welcome to another edition of Fly On The Wall group blog postings, hosted by Karen of Baking In A Tornado. Today, nine bloggers are inviting you into their homes for a glimpse of what you would see and hear behind closed doors.

     When I participate in these Fly On The Wall posts, most of the comments I share come from my husband, who certainly has a way with words. His quick wit is what attracted me to him in the first place. Sort of like flies to honey (see what I did there?). He had some zingers this past month, and I've been grabbing my pen and pad every time he says one of his off-the-wall comments.



"I have my own floatation device in the pool----it's called an 'inner tube waistline'."

"You know you're getting old when you have to keep floss in every room."

"I forgot to shower and my armpits smell like tacos. I've sniffed them so many times today that now I'm craving Taco Bell."


"I just got carded. But not for looking under 21. The clerk wanted to know if I was entitled to the senior citizen's discount."

"My food traps are so bad, I need a pressure cleaner to get the extra food out of my molars."

"Ancestry.com has a package deal on sale today. You should get one so we can finally find out what your DNA is."
"No thanks. I'm too afraid to find out that I might be kin to a schnauzer."

"I picked up the bedroom furniture you ordered. It's the wrong size."
"What do you mean? I bought a dresser and two end tables."
"The furniture is for a baby's room. The drawers wouldn't even hold a stack of onesies, let alone my t-shirts."
"I'm not sending it back. We just have to make it work."
"Then you can forget about filling it with adult diapers when you're old. And don't be surprised if the nightstands come with baby bottle holders."

"THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN 21 AND 61: AT 21, YOU'RE FULL OF ENERGY AND EXUBERANCE. AT 61, YOU'RE LEFT HOLDING A BAG OF LEFTOVERS"


"I just don't feel attractive anymore. My skin is as saggy and wrinkly as an elephant's, and no one wants to f#@k an elephant."

"Male UTIs are the worst. It feels as if someone put a cattle prod up my urethra."


"Why do you always attract so many mosquitos? They're swarming all over you."
"Because my DNA is made up of 40% crap."

"I look so old----people probably mistake me for the grim reaper."

"Our favorite doctor is no longer on our insurance plan. I really need to get an endoscopy for my esophagus, but with my luck, I'll be sent to a doctor named 'One Tooth Fred' who'll put the tube up the wrong orifice."


 
    Is it any wonder why I've been married to this guy for 33 years? He keeps me laughing, and laughter keeps us both young. It's a win-win situation. I think I'll keep him.


Buzz around, see what you think, then click on these links for a peek into some other homes:

Baking In A Tornado                  http://www.BakingInATornado.com
Menopausal Mother                     http://www.menopausalmom.com/
Searching for Sanity                 http://singlemumplusone.blogspot.com
Eileen’s Perpetually Busy            http://eileensperpetuallybusy.blogspot.com/  
Spatulas on Parade                    http://spatulasonparade.blogspot.com/
A Little Piece of Peace                 http://little-piece-of-peace.blogspot.com
Never Ever Give Up Hope                   http://batteredhope.blogspot.com
Bookworm in the Kitchen                http://www.bookwormkitchen.com /   
Not That Sarah Michelle                  http://notthatsarahmichelle.blogspot.com                                   

Friday, May 5, 2017

If My Tchotchkes Could Talk.....

     I've written before about the odd little tchotchkes in my home---stuff that other people may see as a collection of junk, but to me, they're treasures. Each one carries a specific memory, and for that reason, I hang onto them. I'm not a hoarder (well, maybe when it comes to squirrel stuff I am, but....), and I DO try to keep my tchotchkes organized. Just the other day, I removed all of my pug-faced pillows and stored them in the closet so that they wouldn't clutter up my bedroom. Perhaps I should have donated them or tossed them out, but you never know when someone might be in dire need of a pug pillow.

     My home is full of amazing little items that make me smile whenever I happen to spot them on a table or shelf. Or when it's time to bring out the duster, because God knows, the more tchotchkes you have, the more dusting you'll do.....




This metal biplane was given to me eons ago at a surprise birthday party hosted by my husband. At the time, I was fascinated with World War I aviation and even rode in a biplane that had an open cockpit. Crazy for someone like me who has a fear of flying, right? Oddly enough, I felt safer in the old Sopwith Camel than I ever did on a commercial jet. Which is why you won't see me flying again any time soon. It's not the turbulence I'm worried about; I don't want to get bloodied and bruised while being dragged off an airplane that has oversold its seats. 





This is just a SMALL sampling of squirrel figurines that I have in my curio cabinet. Yes, I can always make room for more.....





What home would be complete without a model of the ship that sank in 1912, killing 1500 passengers? For me, the Titanic is a reminder of why I don't do cruise ships. Ever.




There was a time when I had a THING for Captain Jack Sparrow. Seriously---I had posters of him all over my house, and collected any type of memorabilia from Pirates of the Caribbean---like this doll. Okay, so maybe it was just because I really had a THING for Johnny Depp. Several years ago, I was
fortunate enough to see Mr. Depp sing with his band when they came to our town. I was right up front by the stage, too, until an unruly young woman tried to elbow me out of the way. We almost got into fisticuffs, but I stood my ground. The concert was great, yet all I remember was my urgent need to use the restroom and being forced to keep my bladder on hold for fear of losing my spot by the stage. Lesson learned---next time I go to a concert that is standing room only, I'll bring a travel pack catheter. 




These are no ordinary finger puppets. These are magic puppets to spark the creative juices. How do I know? They were given to me at the Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop by my hilarious friend Elaine Ambrose, when I attended her seminar. These guys sit at my desk now and cheer me on whenever I feel uncreative. The one on the left represents my current status the best.




This little replica of the Fountain Of Youth was purchased at the museum after a grueling walk through St. Augustine during the summer when it was above 90 degrees. My husband was certain that the park was near our hotel, so we set out on foot to the museum. Two hours later, drenched in sweat and with blisters on our feet, we finally reached our destination. I was hoping that the Fountain of Youth was large enough for me to throw my entire, sweaty body into the cool oasis, but all we found was a small trickle of water coming out of some rocks. So I did the next best thing--I drank the water in the hopes that I would stay forever youthful and free of hot flashes. And then I made my husband call a taxi.

What sort of unusual tchotchkes do you have on display at your house?



******WANT MORE MENO MAMA? This week I am honored to have my first piece up on The Mighty: How I learned To Live With My Anxiety Disorder. I also have a humor article about menopause on Medium that you can read here:  https://medium.com/@marciakesterdoyle/a-husbands-perspective-eight-ways-menopause-has-changed-my-wife-4b94c90ea4e5


Friday, April 21, 2017

Fly On The Wall At A Renaissance Festival

     Welcome to another edition of Fly On The Wall group blog postings, hosted by Karen of Baking In A Tornado. Today, eight bloggers are inviting you into their homes for a glimpse into their private lives.

     Before I get into the humor part of my FOTW post, I'd like to share an important message with you. This week I am honored to have a special article featured on The Mighty, and I'm hoping everyone will take the time to read it. This was a difficult story to share but one that needed to be told in order to help others suffering from Binge Eating and Body Dysmorphic disorders. A help line number is included at the end of the article. You can read the post here:  https://themighty.com/2017/04/being-eating-disorder-body-dysmorphic-disorder-in-children-recovery/  Please help me spread awareness of these forms of mental illness that have robbed so many women and men of living normal, healthy lives.

     Now, onto some humor......This past month, the pesky fly on the wall followed my family to the local renaissance festival, and oh man, the things this fly saw.........

                                   Anyone up for a game of Jumanji?

                                                 
                                           
                     Someone left their food-deprived baby at the circus      



Either I had one too many mugs of beer or I'm seeing a real life "Ram-Man"




I never could resist a handsome bagpipe player....



The stuff that nightmares are made of.....



This one too......




Not sure what tribe she is representing but I'm digging this outfit. 



I've always said that I have the appetite of a Viking, so I think I just found my spirit people.



Two lovely ladies out for a stroll....but they're probably smuggling flasks of rum under those skirts.




Ronald McDonald after too many frozen mojitos at the Ren-Fest pub




Hubs has been out in the sun too long. This is his war cry for, "GET ME OUTTA THIS PLACE!!"


***WANT MORE MENO MAMA? My first humor piece is featured this week on Post-40 Bloggers! You can read it here: http://post40bloggers.com/then-i-hit-my-fifties/


Thanks for stopping by to see what the nosey fly has been up to this past month. Buzz around some of these other blog sites for a peek into their homes:

Baking In A Tornado                  http://www.BakingInATornado. com
Menopausal Mother                     http://www.menopausalmom.com/
Searching for Sanity                 http://singlemumplusone. blogspot.com
Eileen’s Perpetually Busy            http://eileensperpetuallybusy. blogspot.com/  
Spatulas on Parade                    http://spatulasonparade. blogspot.com/
A Little Piece of Peace                 http://little-piece-of-peace. blogspot.com
Never Ever Give Up Hope                   http://batteredhope.blogspot. com
Bookworm in the Kitchen                 http://www.bookwormkitchen. com/ 

                                         

Monday, April 17, 2017

Your Ship Has Yet To Sail: Postmenopausal Pregnancy

     Think it's too late to get pregnant when you are postmenopausal? Think again! The following is an informative guest post written by Heidi Hayes, CEO of Donor Egg Bank USA.


Your Ship Has Yet to Sail: Postmenopausal Pregnancy

There’s an internal struggle that many women face nowadays; we yearn to challenge ourselves and advance our careers, but we still want to raise a family some day.
Modern women know there is more to life than staying home, raising babies, and ironing shirts, but striking a balance between our professional and personal lives is quite often difficult. In some cases, a woman may find herself going through menopause before she’s even had the chance to think about getting pregnant.
However, thanks to technological breakthroughs in the egg donation process, menopause no longer has to be the end of your journey to motherhood.

The Negative Effect Age Has on a Woman’s Eggs
When it comes to your physical health, there are many things you can do to keep yourself feeling young. You eat right, exercise on a regular basis, and stay away from cigarettes and excessive drinking. But even if you do all the right things for your body, the fact of the matter is still the same; as a woman ages, the quantity and quality of her eggs will greatly diminish. By the time the average woman hits forty, her chances of conceiving naturally are only 5%.
While IVF and other infertility treatments can still be a successful alternative to natural conception, many women find that their eggs just aren’t viable for pregnancy. In this instance, many will begin to look towards donor eggs as a solution.

Deciding to Use Frozen Donor Eggs
Coming to terms with the decision to use frozen donor eggs is not always easy. Many women struggle with the realization that their child will not have any genetic connection to them.
While feelings of sadness, anger, and anxiety are not uncommon, there is one thing that may help a couple find comfort in their decision. When a woman decides to undergo a donor egg IVF cycle, she will have the opportunity to carry that child herself.
The bond formed between a mother and her child in utero is unequivocal. She will get to watch as her belly grows, hear the baby’s heartbeat alongside her own, and feel the sweet movements of her little one from inside. These experiences will not be lessened by having different DNA.

Finding the Right Donor
When you’re ready to choose your donor, frozen donor egg banks are the ideal place to start your search. 
These companies work hard to ensure their patients are getting the best quality eggs possible. Each donor is thoroughly screened before being accepted as a donor. The women who donate must undergo background checks, physical and mental health screenings, and drug tests. Their educational and professional histories are also examined and considered. You will also be able to view photos of each potential donor.
Choosing which individual to go with is a very personal decision. Each couple will have different criteria that they are looking for in a donor. How important is a physical resemblance? Do you want a donor with a similar ethnic heritage? Would you prefer someone with an interest in the theatre, or would you rather a person that loves sports?
Once you decide what is most important to you, you can easily search for a donor who shares those traits.

Beginning the IVF Cycle
Once you’ve settled on a donor, it’s time to begin the IVF process. The egg storage facility will ship your selected eggs to your personal clinic to be stored until you are ready for your transfer. Thanks to a flash freezing technique known as vitrification, your chosen eggs will still be in the same condition they were on the day of collection.
The first step is in an IVF cycle preliminary testing. This is especially important when menopause has already occurred. Through blood work, ultrasounds, and other physical tests, your fertility specialist will have a better understanding of your current reproductive health. 
After your initial tests have been completed you will begin taking medications, including progesterone and estrogen, that will thicken and prepare your endometrial lining. At this point your clinic will also thaw and fertilize your donor eggs and cultivate them to embryos.
When your body and the embryo are ready, it’s time for the embryo transfer. You will watch on an ultrasound screen as your doctor places your developing embryo into your uterus using a thin catheter. The process is relatively quick, and you will go home the same day.
Two weeks post-transfer you will return to the clinic for a blood pregnancy test and hopefully a positive result.

Menopause Doesn’t Have to Be the End
So many people think of menopause as a conclusion. The final step in a woman’s fertility, where her months of having periods are behind her. While this isn’t completely wrong, menopause does not have to be the final stop on your quest to have a baby. By using donor eggs, many men and women have seen their families grow throughout their forties and even fifties.

Science has grown right along with our changing society. The rules are different and couples find themselves with more options than ever before. Your next best step could be right around the corner.





BIO:

Heidi Hayes is the CEO of Donor Egg Bank USA. She has more than 20 years of healthcare experience and has worked extensively in the field of reproductive endocrinology. Having been unsuccessful at traditional IUI and IVF treatments, Heidi personally understands the struggles of infertility. After many years of trying to conceive, she ultimately built her family through adoption and donor egg treatment. She always believed that if she didn't give up, her ultimate goal of becoming a parent would someday become a reality.

Friday, April 14, 2017

Super Spring Writers Series: Guest Post By Kathryn Mayer

     My guest blogger today is a very talented writer I met at the Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop in 2014 and again in 2016. Kathryn (Kate) Mayer and I hit it off immediately when we ended up sitting next to each other at the lunch table, and she has kept me entertained with her funny stories ever since that first day. In 2016 we connected with several other writers at the conference, and our special group, "the women from room 473" was formed. We bounce creative ideas off each other, seek career and personal advise, and support one another in all of our writing endeavors. I am so fortunate to know Kate and all the other talented writers I met at the conference!

     Today, Kate is sharing her colonoscopy story with us while spreading a message about the necessity of having the procedure done. Please welcome her to Meno Mama's site with lots of comment love.... and spread the word!

        NOT YOUR TYPICAL ASS STORY


I should have an EZ Pass to the local surgical center, or at least a customer rewards card. Having been bottoms up more times than I can remember, the least I could get is a free sandwich? Cup of clear fluid? Anything?
Just completed my umpteenth colonoscopy, and lived to tell about it.
Way back when, after having “symptoms,” I met with a gastroenterologist who quickly said, “Four kids? You’ve got hemorrhoids, but we’ll poke around up there to take a look to make sure.” (“Symptoms” is the polite way of saying blood in your shit, which is the polite way of saying blood in your “stool” – because who beside medical copywriters calls shit stool?? Shit is shit, stool is to reach high shelves.)
And with that look, he saved my life. Because had I waited until 50, I’d be dead. So instead, I got the first of many colonoscopies at 42, pending accessible health benefits and/or a ride home.
So this week I went in again to see my favorite ass doc.
“I so wish you wouldn’t call me that,” he said to me. Prude, even after all these years.
I did my hair because after the ass exam, I had a GVP protest to attend, then my kid’s basketball game, then my writing group. ‘Cuz you just can’t let a little scary polyp party hold you back.

Did I mention I had really, really good hair? I was hoping to draw the ass doc’s eye upward, like they teach you on Fashion Police and Project Runway, far from the 50 year old crater staring him straight in the face.
I don’t think he noticed. The hair.
What he did notice was a clean as a whistle colon, and a reprieve of seeing him again for 4 years. Which I might or might not do, pending health benefits.
Here’s the thing about colonoscopies: they’re not so bad.
Sure the drink is gross, but not intolerable. The pissing out your asshole is alarming, but doable – with baby-wipes (trust me on this). There’s no stomach cramps to accompany the explosions, which they should tell you but they don’t. Pain free diarrhea, what a bonus.
Just stay close to the bathroom and all is good in the world. The worse thing is being hungry, yet we could all stand to be a little hungrier here in fat-pants USA.
So bring a funny friend to laugh it out, and take care of yourself.
The worse thing about colonoscopies is waiting too long to get one, because then it’s too late to do anything about what they find, and no one will care how nice your hair looks.


BIO:


Kate Mayer potty-mouthed, irreverent writer, humorist, and activist writing out loud at www.kathrynmayer.com, and occasionally funny on FacebookInstagram & Twitter as @KLMcopy. She writes with humor, wit, and a great dose of levity about teenagers, aging parents, midlife, social issues, and, sigh, gun violence prevention. Her essays appear on line at Cosmopolitan, Good Housekeeping, Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop, BluntMoms, Scary Mommy, BlogHer, Grown & Flown, Purple Clover, Midlife Boulevard, and she is a proud Listen To Your Mother NYC alum.

Friday, March 31, 2017

Nine Reasons Why I Love Being A Parent To My Adult Children

     When our children prepare to graduate from high school or college, we as parents often struggle in a tug of war over power with them. We spend years shaping them into the adults we hope they'll become, but inevitably, their future is determined by the choices they make----whether we agree with them or not. Relationships between parents and their adult children can become strained during this time, which is why it's so important to know when to let go and to let them be independent.

     I know several parents who suffer from "empty nest syndrome", and letting go of their adult children has been a challenge. As for me, I was thrilled when my children matured and became self-sufficient.

     There have been times when I haven't always gotten along with my children. We've had our share of disagreements and hurt feelings. But rather than dwell on the growing pains of change in our relationship, I prefer to celebrate the positive side of being a parent to my adult kids. And there are so many reasons why.......


1. I'm never lonely. I socialize with my kids most weekends, and they're my best friends. I can trust them and confide in them on just about anything. But I also have to be prepared to face their criticism, because they have their own opinions and will tell me if they disagree with something I've said or done. For example: when I saw a cute little wombat on television and decided to adopt one off Amazon, they stopped me. They also prevented me from ordering a life-size squirrel costume as a birthday gift for their father. I can't believe they thought he'd prefer lower bowl tickets to a hockey game.

2. I no longer have to support my children financially. Unless, of course, there is a shortage of kale chips and quinoa. The money I'm saving now goes directly into a hormone therapy fund to combat my menopausal tendencies. It's a win-win for all of us.

3. We can have healthy debates on politics and religion, even though we are on opposite sides of the aisle. And just like congress, we can never come to a total agreement.....but that's okay.

4. My adult children now have an appreciation for the old school tunes from the 70's and 80's, and I appreciate their genre of music....kind of. At least I tell them I do.

5. They clean up after themselves when they visit. The only time it gets a little crazy is when they bring their dogs over. That's when my house turns into "The Hounds of Baskerville", and things get pretty messy.

6.  We can share libations together at a party. It's all fun and games until someone loses a shoe and ends up hungover the next day. But it isn't me---I already paid those dues during my own youth.


7. They share my sense of humor. When they hear that their father (in his youth) thought it was smart to quit his job and drive from Missouri to Florida during the heat of summer in an unairconditioned, 1972 Fiat, they think it's hilarious. Who else would move across country in a vehicle the size of a clown car? Like me, they find humor in every one of their father's unfortunate decisions.

8. We keep in touch almost daily. The beauty of social media allows us to share embarrassing memes with each other on Facebook and Instagram, or send one another snapchats of ourselves with distorted faces and animal ears. Okay, I'll admit, I'm the only one wearing the bunny ears.

9. Best of all, as adults, we have a mutual respect for one another. I'm proud of them for being resilient, self-sufficient people, while they appreciate my ability to simultaneously write a paper check and actually speak to a human being on the phone, rather than send a text.

    I really do love being a parent to my adult children. Despite the occasional argument over how many pets are considered to be a hoarding habit, we are a close bunch. Because of them, I enjoy eating kale and quinoa while listening to rap music. And I'm damn proud of it.


Friday, March 24, 2017

Fly On The Wall In An Oddball Home

     Welcome to another addition of Fly On The Wall group blog postings, hosted by Karen of Baking In A Tornado. Today nine bloggers are inviting your to catch a glimpse of what you'd see if you were a fly on the wall in our homes.

     As always at my house, the fly is left scratching his head over the oddball comments he hears on a daily basis here. But then again anyone who enters my home ought to know by now what to expect, and normalcy is never in the menu......



"I'm giving you the delicate nose hair trimmer designed for ladies. I'm taking the man's trimmer that uses a chain saw to cut the log hairs out of my nose."

"The dog jumped so hard on my stomach, I think he pushed my diaphragm up into my throat."

"I get tired of going to the Renaissance Festival every weekend. It's the same old stuff every time....comedy acts, turkey legs, and knights jousting in the arena. They need to add something unique to next year's faire....like manatee jousting on the lake...

"Don't bother your dad today. He's in one if his moods."
"In other words, he's a Hallmark card just waiting to happen."

"How come the grass at the funeral home is growing so much better than ours?"
"They have an endless supply of natural fertilizer."

"You can use that flowery spray in the bathroom all you want to cover up the smell, but you're not fooling anyone with the scent of Poop De Fleurs."

"We need a security code just to break into her box of Godiva chocolates."

"Who are you talking to?"
"My liver."
"Why??"
"I'm giving it a pep talk----brace yourself, liver. The weekend festivities are upon us."

"The kids taught me how to "dab." Now I can look cool."
"No, you look like you're having a seizure. Stop it."


"We should refer to our new puppy as an Oscar Meyer pug."
"Why?"
"He looks like a roaming, fat sausage on short little legs."

"I like Mom better when she's eating fattening food and drinking wine. This new mom who refuses to cheat on her diet is always HANGRY."

"Being a good dog owner means knowing how to open a cheese stick wrapper without making any noise."

"I love sitting in the hot tub with you, but could you please stop sticking your bare belly out above the water and yelling 'BEACHED WHALE ALERT' ?"


***WANT MORE MENO MAMA? This week I'm on BLUNT MOMS dishing up on the "change of Life." Happy to have my post on a husband's perspective of menopause up today on BLU http://www.bluntmoms.com/husbands-perspective-eight-ways-menopause-changed-wife/

     Please click on these links for a peek into some other homes:

Baking In A Tornado                  http://www.BakingInATornado.co m
Menopausal Mother                     http://www.menopausalmom.com/
Searching for Sanity                 http://singlemumplusone.blogsp ot.com
Eileen’s Perpetually Busy            http://eileensperpetuallybusy. blogspot.com/
Go Mama O                              http://www.gomamao.com
Spatulas on Parade                    http://spatulasonparade.blogsp ot.com/
Never Ever Give Up Hope                   http://batteredhope.blogspot.c om
Dinosaur Superhero Mommy           http://dinoheromommy.com/
When I Grow Up                       http://kimberlyyavorski.com/ whenigrowup/



Friday, March 17, 2017

A Husband's Perspective: Eight Ways Menopause Has Changed My Wife

     As bad as I feel for women experiencing the symptoms of menopause, my heart goes out even more to the men who have to live with them while they endure "the change of life." When my husband and I exchanged wedding vows 33 years ago, neither one of us had any idea that I would one day morph into the Tasmanian devil at the onset of menopause. Most of the time, I don't even recognize myself. I have to give the guy credit for sticking by my side as long as he has. I'm not sure what's in it for him, other than the occasional back rub and someone to stop him from heading out to the pet store in his torn cargo shorts and t-shirt that reads, "Cat: The Other White Meat."

     Although menopause has changed me, my husband has learned to go with my emotional flow that's as unpredictable as a summer hurricane. All that matters is that we're still holding hands during the stormiest of times.

     Recently, I pressed him for details about the changes he has witnessed in me over the last few years, and he was a little TOO quick to fill in the blanks......

       
1. My wife once had the energy of a toddler after too many cups of Kool-Aid. But these days, sleep is her priority...even over sex and chocolate. She'd stay under the covers all week if I let her. But someone has to cook a meal every now and then.....unless the family doesn't mind the gastrointestinal apocalypse that would occur if I did the cooking.

2. When she's not in bear hibernation mode, my wife is a creature of the night. Insomnia often robs her of a decent night's rest, but rather than squeeze in some valuable writing time, she prefers to stalk Pinterest recipes or shop on Amazon for decorative pillows. How many pillows does one person need? The good news is that I no longer need an alarm system for the house. While I'm snoring in the bedroom, my better half is wide awake and will release a blood curdling war cry if an intruder tries to break in....or if a cockroach skitters across her path.

3. There isn't a husband on the planet who doesn't live in fear of the dreaded question, "Do these pants make me look fat?" The first year my wife started menopause, we went though four different scales because she was convinced they were all inaccurate. Her pension for chocolate and pizza had nothing to do with her weight gain. At least she can blame menopause for her extra pounds. The only excuse I have is beer.

4. We always "spooned" when we went to bed together. It was comforting to feel her body pressed against mine each night before falling asleep. Now that she has night sweats, if I try to cuddle up to her, I'll likely lose a limb.

5. Dear God, the pendulum mood swings. If I survive these, I can survive anything. Forget Jekyll and Hyde. I'm living with Donna Reed and Attila the Hun. To say that my wife is "a little on edge" is an understatement. If I leave so much as a dirty coffee cup on the counter, her patience level will snap in a nanosecond and I'll find myself fighting for space on the dog's bed each night.

 6. Ever since the hot flashes started, my wife has become a thermostat nazi. When I come home from work, I feel as if I've been magically transported to Alaska. It wouldn't surprise me if I came home one day to find icicles hanging from the ceiling.

7. My wife and I have always been a passionate couple, but after menopause struck, her sex drive plummeted. I'm not the virile youngster I once was, either, but nowadays in order to get things heated in the bedroom, I need a gallon of wine for my wife and the Jaws of Life for easy access.

 8. Forgetfulness comes with age, but menopause can make a woman senile. My wife was one of the most organized people I knew, to the point of being OCD about the house and our family routine. We depended on her to keep us scheduled and sane. If it was up to me, the kids would have gone to school late in their bedroom slippers and have nothing but corn chips in their lunch boxes. But along came menopause, sucking every organizational cell out of my wife's body and leaving me with a pod person who's suffering from constant brain fog. Car keys in the fridge. Water bubbling over on the stove. Dog poop on the carpet because SOMEONE forgot to take the fur balls for a walk after lunch.

     I think it's time to book a room for my wife at the Forget-Me-Not Manor for Senile Seniors. Better yet, I'll take the room for myself, because no one will yell at me for leaving a dirty coffee cup on the counter. And hopefully I'll get to keep all of my limbs.










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