Menopausal Mother

     I'm very excited to share with you today an excerpt from author Sherry Stanfa-Stanley's book, Finding My Badass Self: A Year Of Truths And Dares. Sherry spent a year of her life staring down her fears by trying new experiences that were far outside of her comfort zone. Some of these unusual experiences included going on a raid with a vice squad and SWAT team, exfoliating a rhinoceros, and crashing a wedding.

     Finding My Badass Self is a celebration of Sherry's courageous journey into the unknown during a transformative time, proving that it's still possible to reinvent one's self even in the midlife years. The book is a great read and one that inspires us to push past our fears in order to discover our true mettle in a world brimming with new possibilities.

 But don't just take my word for it---check out the excerpt below and order your copy today!

                               BEARING IT AT THE BEACH





BIO: 

     I've been absent from the blogosphere this week due to a family crisis. My dear mother had to be rushed to the hospital for a torn aorta and needed emergency surgery. She's an incredibly brave and strong woman, but this latest episode really frightened me. The experience made me realize that as our parents age, we have to accept that their health is more fragile than ever before, and that we need to cherish the gift of time that we have with them. For this reason, I'm unable to offer you a new blog post today, but in honor of my mother, I'd like to share some links to a few of my favorite posts that were written with her in mind.

     The good news is that my mother made it through her stent surgery and is now in recovery. Prayers and positive thoughts would be very much appreciated. Those of you who still have your mothers here with you, please give them a hug and tell them how much they mean to you. They will never tire of hearing you say, "I love you, Mom."



THE TRUTH ABOUT MOTHERHOOD

MIRROR MIRROR ON THE WALL, I AM MY MOTHER AFTER ALL (featured on Bonbon Break)

THE INVISIBLE GENERATION

IF MY CLOSET COULD TALK  (featured on Purple Clover)

 
    I've been through the toddler trenches---four times, to be exact, and I'm happy to say that I survived unscathed. Okay, that may not be entirely true. My memories are blurred. Maybe I'm just suffering from PTSD (Post Toddler Stress Disorder), which explains why I don't remember much from those mind-numbing years of motherhood. But now that I have a young grandchild, it's all coming back in waves. I'm remembering what I didn't like about those years, but I'm also feeling immense pride in my daughter for being such a patient mother amidst the toddler turbulence she's currently experiencing. I'm happy that I don't have to deal with that kind of stress anymore on a daily basis (just on the weekends when I'm on babysitting duty, thank you very much).  

     If you have older children, you can finally relax and celebrate all of these reasons why it's great to no longer be raising a toddler:


1. BEDTIME: You get to skip the nightly ritual of putting a cranky, overly-tired toddler into pajamas while she's flailing around on the floor----which is about as much fun as trying to put long johns on a slippery octopus.

2. FOOD WARS: You won't have to smother every vegetable you serve with ketchup or cheese sauce and then lie to your child by telling them it tastes like chicken nuggets.

3. POOP: No more running to the bathroom at breakneck speeds when you hear an excited voice shout, "MOMMY, I DID A BIG POOPIE!" If you don't get there early enough to help them wipe, you'll be smelling butt vapors the rest of the day.

4. PROPERTY DAMAGE: You won't have to live in fear that your precious little angel will scribble all over your expensive baseball card collection with a waterproof marker.  

5. TANTRUMS: No more dealing with meltdowns over a sandwich that has not been cut into the shape of Simba's head, or the entire Lion King pride, for that matter.

6. LACK OF SLEEP: You'll no longer be prodded awake at 5:00 a.m. by a toddler who needs to pee, then claims to be thirsty and hungry. They rarely go back to sleep after they've made the long trek to the toilet and back. Whenever this happens, it's like having a little person running around all morning cracked out on Kool-Aid and lollipops. Be thankful that the only thing waking you up now is an alarm clock.

7.  ANNOYING KID SHOWS: No more whiney Caillou, Yo Gabba Gabba, Dora The Explorer or Bubble Guppies invading your living room each morning (which is far worse on your mental state if the coffee hasn't kicked in yet).

8. NOISE CONTROL: You can ditch the kazoos, electronic alphabet games, talking storybooks and mini drum sets. You might even be able to ditch the ear plugs too, unless your have a teen at home who loves to blast dubstep in decibels loud enough to make your ears bleed.

9. MESSES: The word "toddler" should be synonymous with"twister", because once these little human beings have been awake for a more than thirty minutes, your house looks like its been picked up by a tornado and tossed upside down. Now that your kids are older, you don't have to worry about developing curvature of the spine from bending down all day to pick up their toys.

10. OUTDOOR "FUN": Your thighs will no longer be chafed from the slide at the park, nor will you be forced to squeeze your butt into a swing the size of tight sling shot that's ready to launch you into outer space.

     Despite all of these things, if I didn't have my sweet grandchild to cuddle and love, I'd be missing out on all the good things that come with raising a toddler. They love unconditionally, expressing unbridled affection for family and friends alike. They're quick to forgive, trust easily, and are fiercely loyal.

     Toddlers also have an insatiable curiosity and a zest for life that most of us have lost. They find immeasurable joy in the simplest things, whether it's running through a sprinkler, digging their toes in the sand, dancing to silly songs or hugging their favorite animal. Every meltdown and struggle is worth the sound of their infectious laughter and the light in their eyes when you walk into the room. Their unvarnished souls are a glimpse into what our lives are intended to be---joyous, unfettered and filled with boundless love.


 

     The dictionary defines a mother as "a female parent; one known for providing care and protection over someone else; a person who expresses maternal affection to others."

      My definition of a mother goes beyond the simple terms in the dictionary. Mothers are the key component in binding a family together with love, generosity, compassion and insight. Their fierce loyalty and support is unmatched. A mother encourages her children to fly by putting her own dreams aside and building a safe platform to help launch the dreams of her children.      

     When I was a grumpy teenager, I never gave a second thought to the sacrifices my mother made to keep our family running smoothly. I took for granted every ride to band practice, every home cooked meal, the new clothes in my closet and the clean sheets I slept on each night. I never considered how she spent her time, whether she was happy or not, or if her feelings had been hurt by something I might have done. I was too deep in the throes of teenage angst to notice that I wasn't sitting alone on that bumpy ride through adolescence and anxiety.

     None of it clicked until I had children of my own. Being a mother altered the lens I had previously viewed my life through, and I realized how skewed my perception of my own mother had been. It changed the way I thought about myself and my family, and taught me to look a little closer at the ideals that had been instilled in me since childhood. My role in the world had been redefined, and the only person to guide me through those times of uncertainty was my mother.

     Patient, kind, wise and unselfish, my mother is everything a mother should be. We have disagreed, laughed, cried, and held hands through moments of unimaginable loss, yet she is always there for me, that safe harbor with its blinking light to guide me home during a storm.

      I've learned my share of lessons over the years after raising four children. First and foremost, my mother really DID know what was best. But I've also learned that mothers are not perfect, and that we make mistakes just like everyone else. My standards may not always meet those of my children, and undoubtedly, they'll rebel when they feel they've been treated unfairly. What they don't realize yet is how much of my heart they own, and that unkind words and actions really do hurt, even though I may not always show it. Nothing swells my heart more than their love, and yet nothing has the power to wound me more than their stinging judgment and criticism when they're angry. Until they have children of their own, they cannot understand the level of profound and all-encompassing love that parenthood brings, as well as the difficult and often painful lessons that are learned along the way.

     As much as I regret the days when I ignored my mother to pursue my own interests, I feel doubly blessed now to be able to spend time with her. The veil of youthful self-indulgence has been lifted, and I see my mother for who she really is; a woman of faith, wisdom, strength, compassion and abundant love. She is, and always has been, my shelter, my proudest supporter, and the one person who has loved me unconditionally, no matter how many times I let her down. When people say that I remind them of her, I'm honored. Being compared to the woman I'm so proud to call my mother is the best compliment I could ever receive.

     I hope that one day my children will think of me in the same way, and no matter how many trials they may face in the future, that they'll always feel my love shining through them like a beacon in a storm.

     Last month I wrote about the fifteen things no parent should have to say to their teen daughter (you can read it HERE). So what about the boys? I've raised two sons, as well as daughters, and it seems that in every stage of my boys' lives, from the moment they stood unassisted to when they took their first step, there was a battery of things I NEVER imagined I would have to say to my little male bundles of joy. When they were young, it was the simple stuff like, "I know it looks like a Tootsie Roll but you can't play with the cat's poop"…..."Stop eating dirt---it's not part of the food pyramid"…... "No, that humming wand you found hidden in the back of Mommy's drawer can NOT be used as lightsaber while playing Star Wars."

     Raising boys is a whole different ballgame, and their teen years are known to reduce even the toughest of parents down to a puddle of anxiety and insecurities. Please know that if you have uttered one or more of the following statements to your teenage son, you're not alone:



*You're gonna need a chain saw to cut those toenails.

*If you keep 'borrowing' gas money from me, I'm trading in your car for a Vespa.

*Just because you have laser lights and a stereo system the size of a Winnebago in your room, it doesn't mean that you're allowed to host a rave every weekend. Our house withstood several hurricanes, but I'm not sure it'll last through the rumblings of your bass.

*Please chew with your mouth closed. I don't need to see how fast your molars can masticate a steak.

*Did you wipe?

*You're going to have arthritis in your fingers by the time you're twenty-five from using your cell phone 24/7.

*I don't care how pretty she is---when you take her out on a date, you'd better be thinking with the big head and not the little head.

*All that stinky laundry on your closet floor is making your room smell like a Porta Potty that hasn't been cleaned out in months.

*If you're going to spend THAT much time in the shower, then you need to start scrubbing all the extra  "conditioner" off the shower doors.

*Pay your speeding tickets before you end up on a television episode of Cops.

*No, you will not get carpal tunnel syndrome from flushing the toilet several times a day.

*It's going to take an ice cream scoop to clean all that wax out of your ears.

You need to make a cell phone payment instead of spending your entire paycheck on sneakers…unless, of course, you plan on ditching the wheels in favor of using your feet to get around.

*Yesterday there was a five pound ham in the refrigerator, and now it's gone. A gallon of milk, two bags of chips, a loaf of bread and an entire box of Oreos are also missing. If you step on the bathroom scale, I think I can solve the mystery of the missing food.

*Belching the alphabet is not a skill that women find attractive.


Thankfully, one of my sons is now an adult who has turned into a fine gentleman. My youngest (and feistiest) still has a few more years to go, but the way I see it, he'll be the one who ends up married with four children. Hopefully all boys.

I'd better keep an ice cream scoop in my pocket at all times…..just in case.








***This week I was thrilled to be featured on Beyond Your Blog! You can read my post about living the writer's life here: http://www.beyondyourblog.com/its-a-writers-life-for-me/#

In honor of the International Day of Compassion, I'm taking part in a group posting for the "1000 Voices Speak For Compassion." There are over 1000 writers from around the world participating in this project today in an effort to spread compassion across the globe. I chose a topic that is close to my heart and one that needs to be addressed as a reminder to be kind to the people who deserve our utmost respect and gratitude.




Late one night in mid December, I stood in the check-out line at a Target store to purchase several children's toys for a holiday fundraiser. The line was moving slowly, and the people ahead of me were grumbling about the cashier's inability to move things along faster. I understood their frustration---my feet ached from being on them all day and I desperately wanted to be home in my cozy bed.

When it was finally my turn to check out, I was startled to see an elderly woman hunched over the cash register. Her expression was one of weariness and defeat after listening the harsh criticisms from the shoppers in front of me. As she carefully scanned the toys I'd selected, I couldn't help but wonder what circumstances in life had made it necessary for this woman to work through the night in a busy department store. I knew her feet had to hurt far worse than mine, and that she deserved to be home resting rather than putting up with the verbal abuse from rude customers.

After ringing up my purchase, the elderly woman said that she hoped the children I'd bought the gifts for would love their new toys, and with a tired smile, wished me a Merry Christmas. Walking out to my car that evening, I felt like a heavy rock was lodged deep in my belly.

 I thought about the woman for days afterwards. Would she need to put in extra hours at work through the holiday season just to make ends meet? How many more times would she be forced to endure the lack of common courtesy from impatient customers?

Whatever happened to compassion and respect for the elderly?

Although we live in a youth-oriented society, there's a quiet generation of people who are being blatantly shunned and abused. They are the "invisible" generation; the elderly among us who are often regarded as feeble-minded and lacking in the ability to contribute to society in a meaningful way. This ageist attitude has robbed senior citizens of their self-worth, leaving them the victims of prejudice and disrespect. Compassion, courtesy and respect have gone by the wayside.


 Until we walk in their shoes, it's hard to imagine the quality of life that our elderly face. Their financial situations are often compromised by the death of a spouse, rising medical bills, and a Social Security allotment that's too small to cover the cost of living.  Societal ideologies have contributed to the belief that the elderly are unable to function efficiently, and consequently, they're excluded from the very thing they need most---intergenerational socialization.

I'm ashamed to admit that when I was in my early twenties, I was completely self-absorbed and had absolutely no interest in my elders. For several months, my grandmother lived with us when she was incapable of living by herself. My mother was solely responsible for feeding her, dressing her and changing her adult diapers. I was too busy having fun with my friends to bother asking if my mother needed help. On the few occasions that she did ask me to watch my grandmother so that she could run  errands, I balked at the idea of caring for a woman in diapers.

I cringe now when I think back on those days. I watched my mother fight tears of frustration every time she had to lift my grandmother out of bed, or continually remind her where she was once senility crept in.

And I did nothing to ease her burden.

I look at my mother now, a widow in her mid-eighties, and I marvel at her bravery and strength. But this doesn't stop me from worrying about her every time she steps out of her home. Is she invisible to others? Do impatient drivers cut her off on the highway and yell at her as they speed by? Do people ignore her when they see her struggling to lift heavy bags from the grocery store into her car? Is she taken advantage of by scam artists who view her as a vulnerable, elderly woman? My mother is intelligent and fiercely independent, but it hurts my heart to think of someone ignoring her or mistreating her in any way.

Age should never define a person or diminish our respect for them. When I see elderly people, I'm reminded that this is a generation that was raised during the Depression era. They fought wars for our freedom and faced unthinkable trials and tribulations so that we could have the liberties that we enjoy today. They deserve to be honored, loved and have their dignity preserved.
I still see my mother as the graceful, vibrant woman she was when she was raising me. She taught me compassion and love through the sacrifices she made for our family. I can only hope to be half the woman that she is once I reach my eighties. She is, and always will be, my hero.

I don't see an "invisible" generation when I look upon the elderly. I see people of strength, wisdom and integrity, and the backbone of generations to come.



****UPDATE***Hey y'all, if you haven't read my book, "Who Stole my Spandex?" yet, now is your chance! The KINDLE version is on sale for only .99 for a LIMITED time! Grab it while you can and spread the word to your family and friends. Thank you! Buy it here: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00Q41HS5O

   Welcome to another wacky edition of Fly On The Wall group postings, hosted by Karen of Baking In A Tornado. 12 courageous bloggers have agreed to open their homes today for a sneak peek into their private lives. When it comes to the insane asylum I call home, I feel the need to post a disclaimer: WARNING! The following conversations may cause bleeding of the ears, hair loss and difficulty breathing.

     If you were a fly on the wall in my house this month, this is what you would have heard:


"I just plunged the toilet. Who wants to lick the black lollipop?"

"If you don't stop singing "Livin' la Vida Loca" in my ear while I'm trying to sleep, I'm going to smother you with my pillow."

"He has an intestine longer than I-95….which explains why his poop is the size of a nuclear sub."

"You told me this spray tan in a can stuff works. So how come I look like a patchwork quilt?"
"Didn't you read the directions? You're supposed to spray it from 6 feet away."
"How is that humanly possible? My arms aren't 6 feet long!"

"You have the memory cells of a gnat."

"I can't sleep with you and the pugs. You sound like dueling snorers."

"I'm not eating possum meatloaf. I know we're broke but we're not THAT broke!"

"I can't drink Celsius on road trips without making a ton of pit stops. That stuff goes straight from my mouth to my urethra."

"The family that gets pink eye together stays together."
"We have to….we've been quarantined."

"I feel so fat that I could tuck my feet into my butt and roll into the room."

"You know you've had too much to drink when you accidentally pour your cereal into the dog's bowl and add milk."

"Don't ever use menthol lube unless you want a campfire in your pants. My nether region feels like it has third degree burns."

"Why is our granddaughter locking herself in the dog crate?"
"Unless she starts barking or lifting her leg on the furniture, I'm cool with it."

The refrigerator is so packed that I'm afraid if I pull anything out, I'll cause a food-alanche. "

"When is the last time you washed the minivan? There are cobwebs all over the back."
"Leave them there. People will think I'm driving Spiderman's car."
"No, they'll just think you're a grumpy old man driving a dirty, outdated, mommy mobile."

"His gas clouds are so bad they singe my nose hairs."
"What do you expect from a kid who leaves the bathroom smelling like butt road kill?"

"You're going to tell your mother that I'm the one who came up with all that gross stuff in your last blog post, aren't you?"
"Of course. I don't want to shatter the illusion of being the perfect daughter. I'd rather she believe that all the grossness comes from the shallow end of your gene pool."
"At least mine doesn't empty out into the raw sewage plant."


     Congratulations! You survived another edition of Fly On The wall. Just be sure to check the shower drain tonight for hair clogs.



***WHERE YOU CAN FIND MORE MENOPAUSAL MOTHER FEATURES THIS WEEK:  "One Size Fits None" on the Erma Bombeck Writer's Workshop  http://humorwriters.org/2014/05/21/one-size-fits-none/
"Father's Day Fails" at Humor Outcasts  http://humoroutcasts.com/2014/fathers-day-fails/

PLEASE BE SURE TO VISIT THESE AWESOME BLOGGERS PARTICIPATING IN TODAY'S GROUP POSTING!

 
 Menopause is that tricky "change of life" time better known as the "sucky phase" in a woman's life that no one ever wants to talk about.   Sorry ladies, but menopause is a fact of life, and how you handle it is all in the attitude.  It's known as "the change of life," not the END of life, which means that it isn't ALL bad.  Look at it as an era of new freedom. Yes, you heard me right. There IS an upside to menopause, and I've come up with a list of 10 reasons why you should look forward to this challening-but-interesting time in your life.

1.  No More Periods:  You can swim with the sharks and not worry about becoming fish bait. You can also go camping in the mountains in Montana without fear of grizzly bears shredding your tent in search of raw meat.

2.  Weight Gain:  This can be great, but only if the extra weight is distributed in the right places.  If it goes to the breasts, you've got a built-in floating device to prevent drowning in a pool.  If it gives you a badonkadonk butt, you can sign up as a backup singer for a Beyonce music video.  But if the excess weight settles in your stomach, you're going to have to tell everyone it's an inoperable food tumor that you are forced to carry for the rest of your life.

3.  Hot Flashes:  Sporting a shiny, red face and sweat rings under your arms has its advantages.  It fools people into thinking you just had an invigorating session at the gym or in the bedroom.  Hot flashes also keep your heating bill down in the winter and help you sweat out those extra calories from the chocolate Nutty Buddy cone you scarfed down in your car at the gas station.

4.  Memory Loss:  It's sorta like early dementia.  It erases all those nasty movie reels from the past that you'd rather forget.  Like the night you puked spiked cranberry juice all over your white birthday party dress.  Or the time your husband thought it was a good idea to clear the dance floor at your best friend's wedding reception by doing The Worm in his tuxedo.

5.  Loss Of Libido:  You no longer have to feign headaches.  Just remind your spouse that your lady parts are as dry as tumbleweeds rolling across Death Valley and he'll leave you alone.

6.  Mood Swings:  You can be Freddy Krueger one minute or a Care Bear the next, and nobody will accuse you of being bipolar like they did in the car pick-up line at the elementary school when you were a hot mess mama in your thirties.

7.  No Longer Fertile:  You'll never have to worry about birth control again.  The money you save can then be invested in Viagra stock.

8.  Insomnia:  You get to add an extra 4 hours to your day since you'll only be sleeping for 3.  All those pesky items on your to-do list will be finished in no time.  But you're going to need some spackle in your makeup box to hide those duffel bags under your eyes.

9.  Dry Skin:  This is your excuse to go shopping and spend a fortune at the Lancome counter at the mall.  No one wants to look at a face that resembles an elephant's ass or a 10 year old Shar Pei.

10.  Fatigue:  Your body shifts into narcoleptic mode every day after lunch.  To combat the fatigue, you have an excuse to invest in a gold card membership to Starbucks or convince your boss you have a medical condition that requires a midday nap on the floor under your desk.  Be sure to carry a pillow with you at all times.

     Once you change your attitude, menopause isn't all that bad.  You just have to learn how to roll with the hot flashes, bloating and roller coaster mood swings.....and it wouldn't hurt to have a healthy stock of wine on hand at all times, just in case.....

   
 It starts with a glance in the mirror or a family picture that has been plastered all over Facebook. Yeah, that one of you stuffing half of a red velvet cupcake into your mouth.  Even your long lost relatives who are sheep herders on another continent are sharing and commenting on that picture: "Awww...look how much she's GROWN over the years..." This is fine if they're talking about a five year old, NOT a middle aged mother.
     My wake-up call hit like a clap of thunder thighs the day I uploaded some pictures taken from our local renaissance festival.  Who was that chubster in the blue gown next to Mr. Robin Hood-Wanna-Be? Oh yeah, that's me...wait, WHAT? Okay, I'll admit I've been a little heavy-handed with the desserts lately. And the frappuccinos. Those pesky, two-for-one sales at Wine-Mart haven't been doing me any favors, either. But what am I supposed to do when there's an industrial size jar of Nutella in my pantry, just calling my name? You could spread that stuff on styrofoam and it would still taste good.
     Upon closer inspection of my physical flaws in that traitor I call a mirror, I knew I had to get myself back into the svelte clothes growing cobwebs in the back of my closet. I joined an all-female gym, but quickly realized that my workout clothes from the Richard Simmons era were sadly outdated. I needed a new gym wardrobe, but me visiting a sporting goods store for clothes to sweat in is a perfect example of an oxymoron.

     I made the mistake of inviting The Hubs along to help me choose my new gear. He was a little TOO  enthusiastic at the prospect of his wife getting back into shape. I roamed the aisles until I found the women's workout clothes section and stopped dead in my tracks. Who were these manufacturers kidding? The "large" tops were the size of small sausage casings. I'd be lucky if I could stretch the shirt to fit one arm. Further down the aisle I came across a row of "grande" tank tops. In white. I envisioned a fat polar bear wearing a pink headband and hopping around the gym floor during Zumba class. I shuddered.


     And then the unthinkable happened....every chubster's worst nightmare. My brilliant Hubs was  across the store in the men's department. He held up an armload of colorful tee shirts and shouted, "Hey Hon, you need a larger size? I found a 2X in the men's department that might fit you!"  I should have slapped a muzzle on the man during public outings years ago.
     I quickly grabbed a few pairs of yoga pants and some tee shirts with motivational sayings on them such as, "Just Do It" and, "I like to lick cake batter off beaters" (No wait---that was for something else!).
     Not willing to suffer alone, I convinced one of my daughters to join the gym with me because misery loves company (and paybacks are hell). We spent our first few, torturous days with a personal trainer to learn how to use the weight equipment. But mostly we learned how not to grunt too loudly like truffle sniffing oinkers or sweating too much like two sumo wrestlers in a sauna.
     The day of our first Zumba class, I surveyed the group and was pleased to see a nice mix of ages and body types. Women's shapes are often compared to certain fruits---apples, pears, oranges...and the occasional grapefruit. I was in the midst of a fruit salad ready to learn some sexy Zumba moves. Music with a heavy, Latin beat reverberated against the walls and we began hopping around the wood floor like Mexican Jumping beans. I tried to concentrate on the dance steps but my mind kept wandering....a typical defense mechanism against the extreme pain I was in from my workout with the trainer. My thighs were so sore that I'd been forced to walk around with a full bladder all day just to avoid squatting over a toilet seat. Rather than listening to the Zumba instructor, my mind was swept along with the cluttered debris of A.D.D. ----random thoughts scurrying through my brain like rapid channel surfing through 450 television programs:

     "Drop it drop it low girl....drop it like it's hot....oh yeah, I got this booty shakin' thing down....wait. Why isn't my butt moving like everyone else's? And what's that popping sound in my lower back? At least I'm rockin' these new, neon green Nikes....actually, they kinda look like twin sand barges in the ocean. Uh-oh.....should have worn some Spanx. My junk is jiggling in all the wrong places. I swear I can still see those damn cupcakes sitting on my hips, mocking me. Crap, it's hot in here. Hot flash hell. Hard to breath. Heart, don't play me like that. I'm not dropping dead in Zumba class! It would scar my daughter for life. Hey, where did she learn to shake her ass like that, anyway? Probably snuck out of her bedroom window to hit the dance clubs all those nights I thought she was snug in bed. Umm...am I in Pole dancing 101 right now? And who's bright idea was it to place mirrors around this brightly lit room? I'm so pale I look like I've been cohabiting with family of moles.
OH HOLY MOTHER OF GOD! Is that what I think it is----camel toe? I need new pants!! Hey, what's the food channel doing on the gym TV? They should be showing infomercials for weight loss supplements or....ohh, Paula Dean is making smothered pork chops with gravy....do I have any pork chops in the freezer? Wait---what fresh hell is this---more squats? Yoo-hoo teacher, I'm dying over here. I'm not gonna Busta Rhymes---- I'm gonna busta femur. Oh great...now I'm sweating so much my makeup is running down my face
. I look like I belong at a KISS concert. Whoa! Paula Dean is baking a chocolate marble cake! Are you kidding me? She needs to get over here and do this freakin' Zumba class!  Huh? Cool down time already? You mean we're done? I made it! I didn't die on the Zumba floor!"


     Its been a few months now and Meno Mama is getting closer to brushing the cobwebs off her skinny clothes. I'm droppin' it like it's hot in Zumba class without feeling a heart attack coming on. The only thing I need now is new tee shirts from the sausage casing aisle....or maybe just some cupcake batter.....