Menopausal Mother

     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.

     Welcome to another edition of the Fly On The Wall group posts, hosted by Karen of Baking In A Tornado. Today 14 bloggers are inviting you to catch a glimpse of what you'd see if you were a fly on the wall in their homes.

     There are days when I feel like I'm living with lunatics, but let's be honest---life would be pretty dull around here if I didn't have my crazy family around to give me the inspiration for my blog posts. Here are a few snippets of conversation that were floating around my house this week. Yeah, I know…the fly is shaking his head at me, too.


"I can't sleep. I'm thinking about coleslaw."
"You're hungry?"
"No, I just wanna know why it's called 'Coleslaw' instead of 'Coldslaw.'
"You woke me at 2:00 a.m. to ask me about coleslaw??"
"Yeah, because it's bothering me."
"I have the answer. It's called GOOGLE."

"Throwing up while wearing a mouth guard is right up there on the list of the worst things that I've had happen to me. "

"Have you seen my mind? I think I've lost it."
"Yes, you left it at the hospital after the last kid was born."

"That dog turns into a piranha pug when she sleeps in our bed. If you accidentally bump into her, she snaps. I'm too afraid to reach down and grab the covers because I might lose a limb and end up with nothing but a stub for an arm."

"I'm fat."
"I'm chafed."
"That sounds like a law firm to me. 'Got into an auto accident? Call Fat and Chafin.' Injury at work? Call the lawyers at Fat and Chafin'….. 1-800-CHUBS.'"

"Shopping at a discount grocery store that has potato chips in the same aisle with dairy products is like having an enema without the tube. Nothing is in the right place."

"We're almost empty nesters but we can't get the last egg out of the nest. It just keeps rolling back in."

"Why aren't you dancing?"
"Because I need to poop, and I'm afraid if I jiggle too hard, something is going to fall out."

"The folds of fat on my body have a dual purpose. They serve as a storage shelf for peanut M&Ms. Melt in your mouth, not in your fat fold."

"Forget calling that wedding picture you just posted on your Facebook wall as your 'Throw Back Thursday' photo. That picture should be called your 'Throw Back to the Jurassic Era photo'."


And that, folks, is just another day in the lunatic house that I call home.




***WANT MORE MENO MAMA??? Just like the fly, I've been buzzing around a lot of different websites this week, sharing the funny. Here is where you can catch more of my nonsense:

*VIBRANT NATION: A Mother's Advice To Her Son On The Eve Of His Departure For College http://www.vibrantnation.com/groups/other-topics/blog/a-mothers-advice-to-her-son-on-the-eve-of-his-departure-for-college/
*SAMMICHES & PSYCH MEDS: 8 People I Love To Hate At The Gym  http://www.sammichespsychmeds.com/8-people-i-love-to-hate-…/
*TEN TO TWENTY PARENTING: 6 Good Things About Raising Teen Boys http://tentotwenty.com/6-good-things-about-raising-teen-boys/
*DAM BLOGGERS: A Mother's Advice To Her Son On The Eve Of His Departure For College: http://dambloggers.com/a-mothers-advice-to-her-son-on-the-eve-of-his-departure-for-college/
*THE GLASS HOUSE GIRLS: **The sequel to the boys, this one is "A Letter To My Daughter On The Eve Of Her Departure For College:  http://theglasshousegirls.com/articles/the-living-room/a-letter-to-my-daughter.html


<<<<IN OTHER NEWS>>>>  My book, "Who Stole My Spandex?" is going to be reprinted---a second edition---which was picked up by the publishing house Booktrope!! I'm over the moon happy about this----it's something I've been hoping would happen for a long time. I'm looking forward to this next step as a writer and will post updates as we ride along on this crazy and wonderful publishing journey. Thank you ALL for the love and support you have given me. Meno Mama would not exist without you!!  <<HUGS>>


Please stop by and read all the funny Fly On The Wall posts by my sisters in humor:

until the circle of life comes around and bites me in the ass with grand children.

     Our youngest is only a year from graduating----between school, work and an active social life, he's seldom home. Since our three older children flew the coop years ago, my husband and I have been enjoying a taste of freedom as "almost" empty nesters. I cook less, nap more and I get to spend unlimited time in the garden. Even better, there are plenty of uninterrupted Cialis moments bringing spontaneity back into our lives. My husband and I are rediscovering each other after thirty years of marriage, and suddenly it's 1984 all over again.
   
     Until karma came knocking at the door.

     My oldest daughter was offered a job transfer with the opportunity to move back to her hometown. A month later she arrived on our steps with a toddler on her hip and a moving van in the driveway. The quiet serenity I'd grown accustomed to disappeared before the first suitcase was unpacked.

     Gone are the days of sharing a leisurely cup of coffee over the morning news. My husband and I now sip our daily elixir while watching Chuggington with our granddaughter sandwiched between us on the couch.

     And the changes don't stop there.

     The living room that I kept as clean as a showroom floor is now littered with stuffed animals, a toddler trampoline, a plastic princess slide and a talking choo choo train. I'm having flashbacks of raising four kids with enough play equipment in my house to run an amusement park. I'm trapped in the Land of the Wee People where there are tiny little tables, tiny little chairs and tiny little toys cluttering my home.

     My life has become one long deja vu as I stress about spilled apple juice, gooey tabletops and curious dogs choking on Lego blocks. There are glass rings in the shape of an Olympics symbol on my fine wood furniture and unidentifiable stains that resemble a Rorschach inkblot test on my couch. These mishaps are a sharp reminder of the twenty years I spent with a roll of paper towels in one hand and a spray cleaner in the other.

     I've learned that 8:00 p.m. is the witching hour for small children when the dreaded word "bedtime" is uttered. It automatically sets off a siren that can be heard six blocks away. It's the battle cry of every rebellious toddler waging a war against sleep. My granddaughter is no exception, and the high decibels of her nightly tantrums make my ears bleed. This sets the dogs on edge, and within minutes my home sounds like it has been overrun by a pack of howling coyotes.

     Extra people in the house also means that my garbage bin looks like Mount Trashmore, the laundry pile is the height of Mount Kilimanjaro and the dirty dishes in the sink are stacked higher than Mount Everest. My home has been transformed into a mountain range.

     I'm dealing daily with unpleasant odors that permeate the air, but I'm not sure if the smell is from my flatulating pugs or a diaper gone wrong. Pretty soon I'll need to invest in a gag-o-meter to determine the culprit of stink.

     Other changes include a second refrigerator in our spare bedroom for our daughter's organic groceries. She prefers clean eating. The irony of this is not lost on me since all my children lived by the five second rule whenever food fell on the floor.

      The extra stress from all the changes in our home has caused my husband to gnash his teeth down to the size of corn niblets, and just yesterday I noticed that my night guard is now sporting new holes.

     I may be on the verge of a middle age meltdown, but in all the chaos, I've found magic. It comes in the form of a little girl's laughter when she rushes into my arms after her morning waffles and plants a sticky kiss on my cheek. It's there, at the kitchen table, when I share a glass of wine with my daughter as we giggle and gossip into the wee hours of the night. More importantly, there's magic behind every "I love you" and every embrace.

     I miss the freedom of an empty nest, but I'll gladly trade it for a house full of laughter, and all the sticky kisses my granddaughter has to offer.