Menopausal Mother

 
    There's nothing worse than a writer with a blank brain, or a blank computer screen, for that matter. Right now, I'm suffering from both. Short of caving in to the advertisements for online courses that promise to restore my forgotten muse (or spending $100 an hour with Cleo the psychic to find out what evil spirit has inhabited my laptop and stolen my creativity), I've been living a double life as a sloth. Yes, that's right. I'm slothing all over the place---on the couch, in my car, on the living room floor.....wherever I can park my butt and do absolutely nothing. I know I need to snap out of this funk, but my inner kindergartner is screaming for a nap and a bag of Oreos.

     I want to get back into the writing game--I really do--but words fail me as I sit here, fingers poised over the keyboard. The good news is that I'm learning to adjust to the sloth life. My computer screen may be blank, but I've found creative ways to stay busy (and still remain sloth-like) while waiting for inspiration to strike. And my day usually starts like this:


*Drink a cup of coffee.

*Drink another cup of coffee.

*Organize papers on desk and make a to-do list that will most likely not get done.

*Join Farmville and learn how to manage imaginary livestock.

*Pluck stray nose hairs.

*Check refrigerator for snack even though there's only healthy crap in there (rubbery carrot sticks and bruised apples are NOT food for the muse).

*Experiment with different ring tones on my cell.

*Search desk drawer for hidden Easter candy that may or may not have been eaten five months ago.

*Trim toenails and make smiley faces out of the clippings.

*Check refrigerator again in the hopes that fresh pastries from the bakery have magically appeared.

*Frown at bag of rubbery carrots. Feed a few to the dog.


*Play tug of war with the dog.

*Check online farm to cultivate imaginary corn crops.

*Pick lint out of belly button. Contemplate knitting it into sweater for pet hamster.

*Scroll through old photos on cell phone and think about the good ol' days when there was plenty of inspiration for writing.

*Eat remaining rubbery carrots.

*Attempt a two-minute plank on living room carpet. Wake up one hour later.

*Take selfie next to blank computer screen.

*Pick two-week-old blue polish off fingernails.

* Investigate strange sounds in the kitchen. Clean up dog's carrot barf.

*Make three-story house and detached garage out of Post-it Notes.

*Close laptop for the day and dig through pantry for something to eat other than a potato and a can of tuna.

*Yell at television when Game Of Thrones ends.

*Set alarm and pull bed covers up over head.

*Tell self not to give up on writing career. Remember that tomorrow is new day for a fresh start.

     And for fresh pastries in the fridge.


 









  

      There are certain do's and don'ts to aging, but some people are clueless when it comes to acting appropriately for their age. I'm not suggesting that you should throw in the towel after fifty and let yourself age like a hag. I'm just giving you some pointers on what you can and cannot get away with once you're considered over the hill. If you want to dye your hair chartreuse and tattoo your cat's name on your shoulder, that's up to you. Otherwise, here's some simple advice to follow whenever you forget that your name is already on the AARP mailing list.


1.)  Thou shalt wear clothing styles that flatter thy age. This means you should steer clear of the clothing you wore when you were twenty-something and thirty pounds lighter. Ladies, just because you rocked that mini skirt back in 1970 doesn't mean you have the legs to pull it off at age fifty. If the backs of your thighs look like the surface of a golf ball, ditch the short skirt and find a sexy one that sits just above the knees. Men, hopefully you're not trying to squeeze into the red speedos your wore at the beach during spring break forty years ago. You are not competing on the Olympic swim team and no one wants to see your shrunken roly poly trapped in wet nylon.

2.) Thou shalt carry dental floss with thee at all times.  As you get older, your gums recede and leave perfect little pockets around the teeth for food storage. Unless you plan on eating those trapped  morsels later in the day, or if you enjoy digging spinach out of your teeth in a restaurant, keep a roll of floss handy for food trap emergencies. Your mouth should not be a storage bin for leftovers.

3.) Thou shalt not drink more than one libation a day. Your memory cells are already down to single digits from aging. Why kill off the precious few you have left with shots of tequila?

4.) Thou shalt moisturize thy skin on a regular basis.  Things begin happening to the collagen in your skin as you age. Bad things. Unless you want your face to droop like the man in Edvard Munch's painting "The Scream", start applying creams as heavy as wall spackle to your skin to avoid a massive collagen meltdown.

5.) Thou shalt eat an entire bag of carrots a day. By the time you hit your fifties, your eye site will be no better than a mole's. Carrots have vitamin A in them, which is good for your eyes. Seriously, have you ever seen a rabbit wearing glasses?

6.) Thou shalt not pass gas in public places.  Old people and farts are synonymous. Don't be like old people. Practice your sphincter Kegels daily to avoid mishaps on a crowded elevator or in the line at the grocery store when there's a sale on Metamucil.

7.) Thou shalt take no less than 20 supplements a day to stay healthy.  By the time your youngest child is in college, you should own a large pill box with compartments that are clearly marked with the days of the week. You should also be on a first name basis with your pharmacist.

8.) Thou shalt not gain 10 pounds a year after the age of 50.  Hide the butter, hide the cream. Eat too much, you'll bust a seam.

9.)  Thou shalt maintain a healthy, intimate relationship with thy partner.  Keep in mind that you're not a frisky twenty-one year old any more. If you think being adventurous in the bedroom means trying out the Kama Sutra "Splitting Bamboo" position, think again. You just might pull a hamstring and end up in a leg brace.

10.) Thou shalt maintain thy sense of humor.  That old saying that "laughter is the best medicine" is true. Everyone needs to find their happy place in order to smile. If that means finding it in the bottom of a jar of Nutella or watching your spouse wrangle out of a chair that the grandkids have duct taped him to while babysitting, then so be it.

      See? Getting older isn't so bad. You can get away with things like forgetting to shave your legs or eating dessert before dinner. And if you're really lucky, no one will notice that glob of spinach between your teeth.



****EXCITING NEWS FLASH**** Meno Mama was just accepted this week into the Washington Post Talent Work for writers!!! Stay tuned for my first article......whoo-hoo!!


***WANT MORE MENO MAMA? This week I am up on Humor Outcasts with my post, "Eight Types Of People Who Annoy Me." You can read it here: http://humoroutcasts.com/2016/eight-types-of-people-who-annoy-me/

     It started with a recipe. I misread the amount of flour that was to go into a cake and added too much of it to the batter. That night, I served a frosted hockey puck to my dinner guests. I was certain the mistake was due to my lack of attention while baking. Note to self: Do NOT watch "America's Hottest Firemen" on cable TV while making a cake.

     There were other slip-ups that soon followed….little things I stubbornly ignored, such as squinting while reading a book. Or leaning over the car steering wheel like the Hunchback of Notre Dame just so that I could see the road beyond my dashboard. It wasn't until I backed my van into a telephone pole one rainy afternoon that I knew it was time to face the painful truth: MY MOTHER LIED ABOUT THE CARROTS.

     I really couldn't blame Mom for feeding me an abundance of carrots when I was young. The myth that they help our vision dates back to WWII with the British Royal Air Force. They attributed the success of their pilot's night vision during German reconnaissance missions to the vast consumption of carrots by their airmen. Perhaps if they had consumed mass quantities of cauliflower instead of carrots, they may have needed less fuel to get their planes off the ground.

     It was my love for books---and the fact that I was struggling to read the small print---that prompted me to purchase a pair of glasses from the drugstore (it was either that or buy all my romance novels in Braille). This tactic worked for a little while until everything around me became slightly fuzzy. I had trouble reading the numbers on my cell phone, and instead of dialing my gynecologist, I called the pest control guy to complain about my irregular periods. My typing skills had also diminished considerably, and the emails I sent out were often questioned by the recipients: "When did you start calling your son Zarf?" "What do you mean you ate the dentist?". My husband had already threatened to enroll me in the Helen Keller Institute For Typing if I didn't do something about my poor eyesight. I finally admitted that he had a point when I could no longer tell if I was petting the family cat or my uncle's toupee. It was time to find an optometrist.

     After having my eyes dilated by the doctor, I strained to read a chart that was a mile away and filled with ridiculously small letters. By the end of my appointment, I had two sets of glasses; one for reading, and one for driving.

     It wasn't long before I was stockpiling glasses of various strengths----some for working on the computer, others to watch TV, and another pair for walking the dogs at night. But no matter how many pairs of glasses I accumulated, I lost them as quickly as I lost my socks every time I did the wash.

     Fed up with wearing (and losing) my glasses, I returned to the optometrist's office to be fitted for contacts. I learned how to insert the flimsy lenses into my eyes and returned home, optimistic that I'd solved the problem of my glasses disappearing into the same black hole that my missing socks were orbiting.

     It was all fun and games until it came time to remove the lenses. The harder I tried to slide them out, the farther they slipped under the folds of my eyelids. Panic set in when both contacts disappeared into the caverns of my eye sockets. You know what true love is? A man who uses a magnifying glass and a mini flashlight to probe his wife's eyeballs for missing lenses.

     Ten minutes and two scratched corneas later, I swore off contacts and decided to live my life as a blind mole. My only comfort was in knowing that at least my eyesight was a step up from the rhinos, who are notorious for attacking trees and large rocks due to their poor vision.

     Living life in a blur became too difficult ( I was tired of walking around with bruised knees from walking into furniture) and eventually I caved, buying more glasses along with several pairs of brightly colored contacts. I needed to be prepared in case I was forced to go on another eye expedition in search of my elusive lenses.

     The way I see it, putting up with lost glasses and slippery contacts is worth it to be able to see the world clearly again. And I may add a few more carrots to my diet, just to be on the safe side.