Menopausal Mother

Welcome to another edition of  Fly On The Wall group blog postings hosted by Karen of Baking In A Tornado. Today, Karen and I are welcoming you into our homes to see what goes on behind closed doors. 

     One of the most exciting aspects of parenthood is witnessing your adult children move onto the next important chapter in their lives when they exchange wedding vows with their significant other.

     Last weekend my husband and I had the pleasure of seeing our son marry the love of his life in a romantic ceremony on the beach. The reception was held at one of their favorite venues and we danced late into the night until some of us old folks had blisters on our feet. The bride's family went above and beyond in planning one of the most beautiful weddings I have ever seen! They worked tirelessly to make sure everything was perfect, and it was. The celebration was spread out over the entire weekend, and I have to admit, those days were some of the happiest times of my life.


     Below are a few photos out of the thousands that were taken. I'm sharing just a handful of my favorite moments from that enchanting day:

               

 
     Several of my friends recently celebrated their fortieth birthdays, and each of them bemoaned the fact that they would now be considered "Over The Hill." I bit my lip to keep from laughing because they have NO CLUE what life (and gravity!) has in store for them 10-20 years AFTER turning 40..

      For anyone who has just hit the "big 4-0", here's a little glimpse into what your fifties and sixties will be like:

     Meno Mama is spending the holiday with her crazy family at the nuthouse, so in the meantime I wanted to leave you with a funny guest post I wrote a few months ago for my gal pal Stephanie over at http://whencrazymeetsexhaustion.com. This is a memory from a long time ago…one I'm not too proud of but fortunately am able to laugh at myself for doing the things that I did back then. What can I say? I was young and stupid at the time……



We planned it for months. It was to be the birthday party to end all parties. I bought a beautiful, white silk pantsuit with lace and hand sewn seed pearls on the front for the momentous occasion. The bar, disc jockey and baby sitter had all been reserved, along with a food and decorating committee. On THE BIG DAY, my brother surprised me with a bottle of Dom Perignon ( nectar of the gods) and my husband had a brand, spanking new minivan delivered to our home. It was the perfect day….and I don’t do well with perfection. Because somehow I find a way to screw it up. Two hours before the party started, The Hubs was in the driveway signing the papers with the car salesman. The cold bottle of Dom was calling my name from the refrigerator. I drank the first glass while I finished putting on my makeup. I drank the second (and third) while I was curling my hair. By the time I was pouring my fourth, The Hubs finished the deal and handed me the keys to my new birthday present. I didn’t eat before the party because I’d been dieting so that I wouldn’t look like the Michelin Man in my white pantsuit. I think you know where I’m going with this: champagne + empty stomach = TROUBLE. By the time we arrived at the club, my nerves kicked in at the prospect of hosting a party for 50 people. I quickly marched up to the bar to place my order. My brain started screaming, “NOOO!” the minute my mouth shouted ,”Sex On The Beach!” I NEVER drank that cocktail combination! Someone slipped the bartender a few extra bills to make the drink stronger for the birthday girl. Yeah, like I needed that. I pinched my nose and chugged the drink to calm my nervous excitement. Oh vodka, you fickle bitch, convincing women they can move like a pole dancer on the floor to any pulsating beat from a DJ’s sound system. The siren song of alcohol warped my perception, leading me to believe I was as sexy as Cat Woman in a snug, white pantsuit. I sidled up to every male in the room (including the janitor and a skitterish waiter) like a wolf in heat. The Hubs was busy playing host and didn’t seem to mind that his wife was quickly turning into a party train wreck. That evening, 20 years ago, is still a blur to me. I remember stumbling through some horrid line dances and stepping on many toes. I never got to blow out the candles or taste the birthday cake because I was too busy ralphing up Sex On The Beach in the toilet. My beautiful, white pantsuit turned into a Jackson Pollock painting with red cranberry juice splatters all over the fabric. I DO remember my sister and my best friend holding my hair out of my face so that I wouldn’t wake the next morning with puke-encrusted strands. It took several men to carry me down a flight of stairs to the minivan and believe me, this scene was nothing like Madonna’s “Material Girl” music video where all the male dancers are carrying the sexy, writhing singer down the stairs. Oh, I was writhing all right; writhing in agony because my stomach had not finished giving up the ghost. I learned the next day that everyone happily carried on without me and (thankfully) no lap dances were performed. After I woke from my alcohol induced coma with a headache reminiscent of electro shock therapy, I crawled to the phone to start my long list of apologies to the guests. Moral of the story: tequila might make a woman’s clothes fall off, but Dom makes me dumb and vodka makes me vampy. Next time I’ll wear camo to the party to hide my upchuck imperfections.


***Please check out my pugalicious Christmas card to all of my dear readers today over at In The Powder Room! http://www.inthepowderroom.com/read/home-time/2013-12-doyle-nut-house.html

 
      Welcome to my special Fly On The Wall holiday edition, hosted by Karen of http://www.bakinginatornado.com. We've made the fly quite dizzy this month with our frenzied holiday  preparations. He might have landed in my spiked eggnog the other day, so don't believe everything he tells you that he overheard in my home. It's probably the rum talking.

"Oh good, it's Christmas! Time to play my favorite holiday board game, 'Gorge, Party And Purge.'"

"Elves are the illegitimate children of Mrs. Claus, who was the original ho. That's why Santa yells, "Ho Ho Ho!'"

"Reindeer poop is magic fertilizer for the garden---kind of like Miracle Grow."
"Does this mean the roses will sprout antlers?"


"You have too many tubs full of holiday stuff here! You belong on Hoarders….the Christmas edition."

"Santa must have been agoraphobic. He only left his house once a year to drop off gifts and pilfer cookies."

"What is the nog in eggnog? The dregs of the egg?"

"Stop feeding the dog so much Christmas ham. Pretty soon she's going to need a pug girdle."

"I think I have a holiday yeast infection."
"Then you're out of luck because I don't think they make Monistat for men."

"He hated having to wear that tux to the party. He was practically foaming at the mouth for a beer…..it made him look like a rabid penguin."


"Are those moose knuckles in your pants or are you just happy to meet me under the mistletoe?"

"I love your holiday rum cake but it always gives me heartburn. I'll need a barrel o' Tums after eating a slice. An enema might also be in order."

"What does he want for Christmas?"
"An alligator, but it needs to be toothless."
"Why, so it can gum him to death?"

"Are you planning on spending New Year's Eve passed out on the front lawn again?"
"I wouldn't mind it as long as there aren't anymore fire ants on the grass. Last year I woke up looking like I had measles."

"What a nice surprise! A Coconut Bliss pillow from the mattress store for Christmas. It smells like vanilla cake. If I wake up a few pounds heavier tomorrow and the pillow is missing, you'll know why."


"Feeling blue during Christmas? All you need is pug therapy!"

"I  just had a two layer burp---Special K cereal on top of taco salad. I think I'll follow it up with some Christmas fudge."

"I don't need Viagra. I have you."
"Now THAT'S the holiday gift that keeps on giving!"

"Elves are the mischievous cousins of yard gnomes. Forget 'Elf On The Shelf.' We have Elf In The Butt."

"Time to upgrade your radio for Christmas, Mom. You know, they do make ones that aren't as big and heavy as a cinder block."

"I just got my period after two years, just in time for Christmas. WTH, I'm menopausal! Well played, Santa."

"Next year I want to be in the Christmas boat parade."
"Forget it---the pirate rum ships disappeared a long time ago."

"I'm not trying to be a grinch but I'm tired of putting up Christmas yard decorations. The lights always burn out and inevitably the reindeers will end up beheaded. The others have backward antlers. They're dyslexic reindeers."


     Merry Christmas from our crazy home to yours! Now put down that eggnog and go visit the other merry bloggers participating in today's Fly On The Wall!


***Don't forget to check out my weekly post over at In The Powder Room. I've put a new spin on some old Christmas tunes. Check out, "I'm Dreaming Of A Cheap Christmas" here: http://www.inthepowderroom.com/read/me-time/2013-12-dreaming-cheap-christmas.html