Menopausal Mother

     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.......

When I first learned that I was going to be a grandparent, I was surprised and terrified at the same time. I hadn't changed a diaper or burped a newborn in 16 years. What if I'd forgotten the basic rudiments of infant care? I prayed that it would come back to me like riding a bike----even though I haven't been on one in twenty years, I'm pretty sure I could still pedal my way around the neighborhood. I might wobble a bit at first, but eventually I'd straighten up and glide effortlessly down the street.

After talking to several of my friends who had already been initiated into the ranks of being a grandparent, new worries arose. What if my daughter had the same difficulty adjusting to the drastic changes brought on by new motherhood that I once experienced? What if my grandchild was colicky and inconsolable at all hours of the day and night? Even worse---what if I was unable to bond with my grand baby?

Fortunately, my fears were assuaged once my granddaughter was born. She was a healthy, happy baby, and my daughter eased naturally into her new role as a mother. And I couldn't have been any prouder of the patient, confident parent that she became.

Despite a few fevers, tantrums and troublesome teething episodes over the years, I think I've gotten the hang of grandparenting. Now that my granddaughter is approaching her third birthday, I've had time to reflect on my relationship with her and the advantages of being a grandparent:



1. You can load them up on homemade chocolate chip cookies after dinner, then send them home to their parents before the sugar kicks in.

2. You're allowed to teach your grandchild descriptive words such as "dingleberry" and "fartcake" without an ounce of guilt.

3. When the grandchild has a meltdown in the grocery store and thrashes around on the floor like someone in need of an exorcism, you can hand the whirling dervish over to the parents.

4. You'll have fun reading to your grandchildren all the old storybooks that you read to your own children... but this time you're allowed to tweak the tales: "There once was an old woman who lived in a shoe. She lost all her teeth and forgot how to chew."

5. When the grand baby gets sick, you don't have to be on barf patrol 24/7. This is a job for the parents…and the reason why speed dial was invented.

6. You don't have to buy your grandchildren boring things such as school supplies and uniforms. You can spend your money on entertaining toys such as Tom the Talking Cat, Wubble the Bubble Ball and My Little Pony. Bonus points for loud toys or ones that require assembly and have over 100 parts.

7. Any parent who talks incessantly about their precious offspring's accomplishments will receive plenty of eye rolls and cold shoulders. But as a grandparent, you're automatically allowed the bragging rights you were denied while raising your own children. "My two-year-old grandchild knows the Preamble to the Constitution by heart and can recite the Seven Deadly Sins…in fluent Russian…" No eye rolling, please.

8. You can embellish stories from your youth and your grandchild will believe every word. "When I was two, I learned how to skin a bull and make my own diapers out of his hide." No one needs to know that Grandpa grew up in the city and that the closest he ever came to a bull was a plate of Rocky Mountain Oysters.  

9. If the grandkids don't finish their dinner at a restaurant, you have permission to eat their leftovers. "What? Grandma gave you too much milk and now you're full? Of course she can help you eat those extra chicken tenders and fries!"

10. You have the opportunity to pick and choose which recitals/ concerts/ sporting events you'd like to attend. Skip the three hour violin concert but don't miss the twenty River Dancing toddlers in Pull-Ups.

11. Grandparents have free license to act silly, play games and spoil their grandchildren without punishment or unsolicited advice. Because no one will put the grandparents in time-out.

12. You get to skip the whole potty training phase. If someone leaves a poop on the carpet, better check on the dog...or Grandpa.


My connection to my granddaughter is a bridge between the past and the future. When I look at her precious face, I see my own childhood mirrored in her eyes.

I'll never be too old to use sidewalk chalk, finger paints or play kick the can in the suburban streets of my youth.

And I'll never be too old for fairytales with happy endings.



***Want More Meno Mama? This week I'm up at Humor Outcasts talking about my husband's obsession with fire. You can read it here: http://humoroutcasts.com/2014/firebug/