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.

Post by Marcia Kester Doyle (Menopausal Mama)  3/31/17

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 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."
"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."
"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

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

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

Friday, March 3, 2017

The Puppy Chronicles

     The following is the story of Yoda the pug, and how he recently came to be a part of our family. He's a bit spoiled by us, but he's just a puppy, and all puppies deserve a lot of love. Here's what he has to say about living large in the Doyle house: 

   My earliest memory is of sharing a room with several other squirmy, little fur balls that looked a lot like me. I don't remember how many there were, I just know it was hard to take a nap with so much activity around me.

     I stayed at that house with all my siblings for awhile until I was able to eat puppy chow on my own. The next thing I knew, this man and woman met me in a parking lot at an interstate rest stop. Some green paper bills were exchanged, and then I was placed in the arms of a funny looking lady with purple hair. I liked her right away because she let me lick her face and she even let me nibble on her ears! She just laughed and laughed. It was a long drive home but the nice lady held me the entire time while the man drove the car. Every now and then I got to lick his face, too.

     When I arrived at my forever home, there were a bunch of other humans there who were anxious to meet me. They were all laughing and passing me around like I was some sort of squeaky toy. I had to pee really bad and the couch seemed like a good place to do it. Luckily, my new owners didn't mind.  They tried to show me how to potty on a crinkly pad by the door, but I preferred the carpet (which I discovered was even better for pooping).

     There are two other pugs in this house----a chunky dude who wears a diaper and who looks an awful lot like a sumo wrestler. He's very gentle though, and he likes to play, "Catch-me-if-you-can" around the living room. The humans call him "Brewski." I have no idea why, since I've also heard them use the same name when they drink this liquid stuff out of glass bottles and cans.

     There's also a chubby girl pug here who was rude to me when we first met. She's a pretty thing----I tried to kiss her, but she smacked me in the face with her paw and told me to get lost. I think the humans should have named her "Diva" but they call her "Savi" instead. She has a bad habit of humping pillows......I'm not sure what that's about. Why does she need to dominate a pillow?  I was scared of Savi for awhile because she growled at me whenever I tried to play with her. But I won her over when I shared my rubber ducky with her. A few days later, she finally let me snuggle up with her for a long nap. But oh man, does she snore! She sounds like a freight train barreling through the room when she sleeps. She says she likes me best when I'm quiet, but I'm just a hyper puppy who loves to chew on ears and tails.

     It's pretty great living here. I'm learning to do my business outside in this big, grassy yard that's loaded with squirrels and birds. I try to steal the seeds and peanuts that they drop on the walkway, but my owners chase me away whenever I do it. They can't catch me, though. My little legs are fast as lightning and I've become an expert at hiding under the bushes. My owners hate that the most because they don't like crawling around on their knees to pull me out of my hiding spot.

     The chow they feed me here is really good, but I always want more, even when my belly is stuffed and round like a Buddha's. Whenever the lady with the purple hair is in the kitchen cooking stuff, I smell wonderful things that I would like to eat. Sometimes I get lucky when she accidentally drops food on the floor. I've learned to snatch it up quickly before the other pugs get a chance. I'm sneaky like that. Savi tells me not to be so greedy, but she's not my real mom, so I don't have to listen to her. I think she has forgotten what it's like to be a pup. I'm always hungry!

     I haven't destroyed any shoes yet, but I've discovered how fun it is to chew on books and furniture legs. I like socks, too. Brewski the Diaper Dude eats poop in the yard, but I don't think I have the tastebuds for that. Besides, it makes his breath stink, and I definitely don't want to lick his face after he eats that stuff.

     My owners are really fun people. They love to play and cuddle with me all the time. They've taught me how to catch and play tug-of-war. They also invite other humans over here to play me, which is cool because some of them bring over furry critters like me, which I'm told are my cousins. Things get pretty crazy here when there are five of us dogs barking and running around the house together. We get really excited, but sometimes we also fight over toys, and then one of us has to go into time-out. When it's me, I just poop on the floor to let the humans know that I don't like being separated from my pals.

     Everyone says that I'm growing up really fast. My feet have gotten so big that I trip over them sometimes when I run. I haven't figured out yet how to slow down my legs. My tail never stops wagging, either. I've tried to catch it a few times, but it seems to have a mind of its own.

     I really love these people who've adopted me. They bought me a nice bed and lots of toys (but I still prefer to chew on their feet). I get lots of smiles and kisses from them, even when I'm being naughty. This will always be my forever home with these awesome human parents. I sure am one lucky pup! Now, if only I can get that chubby diva pug to give me a little kiss.......


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