Menopausal Mother

     Two years ago, I had the honor of meeting one of my favorite humor writers at the Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop convention in Dayton, Ohio. We met up again at the conference two weeks ago and had a blast together. It was impossible to carry on a full conversation with her because she kept me in stitches so often, I could hardly speak. Please welcome my dear friend Kate Mayer, who understands the creative genius behind a "jellyfish" shot and has a deep appreciation for ukulele music, especially if the person playing the instrument does a great imitation of Bob Dylan singing the Oscar Mayer bologna song......yeah, okay, I guess you had to be there. But trust me, Kate is a riot, and so are her stories. Summer is coming----need to get some shorts? Perhaps you didn't get the memo......

    I missed the memo about wearing shorts.

Not quite sure when this happened, but somehow I got too old for shorts.

Come to think of it, I haven’t noticed anyone in my friend circle who wears shorts and is not a personal trainer. Or yoga teacher.

Cute dresses, skirts, skorts, tennis skirts – that's a biggie, but apparently I’m the last mom standing in her Target jean shorts.

It’s not a fashion rule forced upon me by AARP, or peer pressure or vanity or People magazine; it’s a consensus I’ve come by all by my lonesome, with some help from the mirrors in Target.

It would have been nice to be warned.

Now that I think about it, my mom doesn't wear shorts. My mother-in-law doesn't. Neither do any of the aunts or cousins – mine or rather attractive husband's. Not when overheating during the family reunion in July, not at the beach, not by the pool. They are in pants, or skirts – long skirts, and often stockings. I don't recall my grandmothers ever wearing shorts and they lived to be about 100. Or at least it seemed that way.

Are we Amish?

Apparently I’m the age when I too must buy the bottom half of summer wear from the agist/sexist surprisingly accurate pop-ups on my facebook page promising whiter teeth or flatter tummies. Or maybe revert to the inserts shoved into Sunday newspapers, like my own grammy did – before QVC and Amazon and Target on-line ordering made it easy to age.

My grandmother, country-club Nana, wore elastic waist, expensive, taupe or navy linen "slacks," or maybe a "smart skirt" – but never shorts. Nana always topped it with a blouse from Bergdorf or Gimbels, a jacket, and sometimes Hermes scarf that whafted a unique combo of mothballs and Shalimar. It lingered in the air like Linus’s dust storm, except fancy. I can smell it now.

My other grandmother topped her Carol Wright stretchy pants from the Sunday paper inserts with a housecoat. Or duster. Or mumu – call it what you want, but it was an oversized smock like frock, in muted floral designs that may or may not have been a shower curtain in a previous life.

This grammy was usually braless, or the bra tucked around the breasts but unbuckled in the back.

“Can’t reach,” she said. “No one’s looking anyways.” Come to think of it, most days she considered bottoms completely optional too. It was scarring.

And therein lies my gene pool. Half trailer park, half Fifth Avenue.

Back to me and my legs.

Spring is coming, and I need shorts. The past winter – hell the past 10 years – has not been kind to my middle parts, so I perused the shopping mecca of Target where I’m still in time for shorts. I have been directed to the "women's section" by the dressing room clerk who turned me away not once, but twice, observing I had selected shorts from the "juniors" department, and well, good luck.

Bitch.

I grab an arm full of jean shorts, sized from 6 to 12, because I take off my clothes once. There is no reentry to dressing room hell for this girl. I get undressed one time, and one time only.

Cute, very cute, and I bravely entered the dressing room full of hope and dreams.

And then this happened.

I’d like to blame the socks. In fact, I am blaming the socks. Talk about me all you want, but I’m buying the shorts because damnit I’m hot.

BIO:

Kate Mayer is a potty-mouthed, sometimes cynical storyteller, humorist, and activist sharing life as she lives it in Newtown, Connecticut. She is a recent, reluctant inductee to AARP, the co-creator of two quasi-adults and two wannabees, and an aspiring writer with the rejections to prove it. She writes about work, teenagers, midlife, social issues, feminism, and gun violence prevention at www.kathrynmayer.com, and is sometimes funny on Instagram and Twitter as @klmcopy. Follow her on Facebook, but please don’t be an ass.

      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/

 
I'm delighted to share a funny post today from one of my favorite bloggers, Michelle Poston Combs of Rubber Shoes In Hell. I've always loved her honesty and sharp wit. She never ceases to make me smile and it's such an honor to be able to feature her on my site! Please welcome Michelle to Meno Mama's blog today with lots of comment love. Thanks!






Google ‘what not to wear after age 50’ and you will have your pick of thousands of articles telling you what looks terrible on your old ass body.

     Cooking is something I do well. I enjoy spending time in the kitchen and I'm proud of the meals I prepare for my family. But it wasn't always this way.

     Right after I got married, I decided to host a dinner party for my family. My cooking repertoire was limited to mac & cheese, bean burritos and scrambled eggs, but this didn't stop me from attempting a gourmet meal for company. The recipe I found in a popular women's magazine looked simple enough----chicken with a creamy wine sauce nestled in the buttery layers of a flaky pastry shell.

     I prepped in the kitchen all day, cleaned my tiny apartment from top to bottom and lit candles to enhance the cozy mood I wanted to create. The evening started off perfect with lively conversation and plenty of wine as we snacked on appetizers.  Once my family gathered around the table, I couldn't wait to serve them my masterpiece. It was the first real meal I'd made since returning from my honeymoon and I was damn proud of it, right down to the chopped parsley I sprinkled over the top of the chicken breast.

     The results were not what I expected.

     The room fell silent as everyone chewed....and chewed....then quickly reached for glasses of water to wash it down. Puzzled by their behavior, I lifted a forkful of the stuffed pastry into my mouth and was horrified to discover that the meal that had taken me three hours to prepare tasted like wallpaper paste and had the same consistency of glue. It was inedible, and I don't think I've ever been more embarrassed than when I dumped all the food in the trash bin and ordered pizza for everyone. I learned from my mistake though, and after experimenting with a variety of cooking techniques, I was finally able to host more dinner parties, which were fortunately a success.

     But there are still plenty of things in life that I suck at and that I'll probably never be able to improve upon:

1.) DRIVING:  I've always said that if I win the lottery, the first thing I'm doing is hiring a chauffeur because I hate driving. I still have nightmares about the crash dummy videos they showed us in Driver's Ed class. Anything over 35 mph is risky to me, which means you will never find me on the interstate. I don't like making left turns at intersections without a turn signal, either, so that pretty much limits how far I can drive from my house. I'm still waiting for the day we get George Jetson cars that fly. Maybe then I'll finally be able to make a left turn.


2.) ACCEPTING COMPLIMENTS: I like to be appreciated just as much as the next person, but compliments on my appearance make me feel awkward. I don't know how to accept them because  my insecurities won't allow me to believe them. My husband tells me I look tousled and sexy in the morning when I crawl out of bed, but when I look in the mirror,  I see Medusa cracked out on Flakka.

3.) DIETING:  I can stick to a diet for about three days, until the food starts tasting like something my husband dug out of the mulch bin. That's when dreams of juicy cheeseburgers and greasy chicken wings invade my sleep, and I wake up to a soggy pillow that looks like its been gnawed on by a pack of hungry wolves.

4.) RETURNING PHONE CALLS: I'm awful at returning phone messages and will text the person back rather than get stuck in a twenty minute conversation. Who uses phones nowadays to talk? The only calls I get are from debt collectors or people trying to sell me buy-one-get-one-free deals on cremation urns.

5.) GROCERY SHOPPING: Being the Foodie that I am, nothing pleases me more than being surrounded by chilled cases of gourmet cheeses or the smell of warm bread on racks by the bakery counter. I love to go to the grocery store with a budget in my head and a shopping list in my hand, but that's when I become A.D.D. and am easily distracted by all the pretty displays. It never fails that despite promises to my husband of sticking to the items on the list, I come home with five pounds of dog biscuits and a tub of Goober peas.


6.) FASHION: A fashionista I am not, and I'd rather pick the lint out of my air conditioning vent than shop for new clothes. Years ago when my kids were young, I bought them clothes made by a company called Garanimals, that took the guess work out of matching clothes for children. All a parent had to do was buy items with matching animal tags---a giraffe-tagged shirt went with a giraffe-tagged pair of shorts, and so on. I need some Garanimals today, but in an adult version, because I have no clue how to put the perfect ensemble together. The one thing I'm good at is matching black with black. And yes, I'm totally cool with people thinking I attend a lot of funerals.

7.) SINGING IN PUBLIC:  When I was in college, I was a soloist in the school choir, sang at many of my friend's weddings and occasionally stood in as a lead singer for a few bands. I loved singing until the day I entered a voice competition and forgot the lyrics. Being booed off stage was not my idea of fun, and I vowed never to sing in public again. Fast forward fifteen years to a good friend's wedding. I agreed to sing for her even though I was nine months pregnant and experiencing Braxton Hicks. The night of the wedding, my nerves were shot but I sang my heart out until a swift contraction caused me to hit a sour note that left the congregation wincing in their seats. I'm pretty sure there was a coyote howling at me all the way from Montana. For that reason, my singing is now limited to the shower.


8.) WORKING OUTDOORS IN THE HEAT:  I love gardening, as long as it's only 65 degrees outside or cooler. I live in sunny south Florida, so this means I only garden 2-3 days out of the year. I want the garden to look nice all the time, but there's nothing worse than being drenched in sweat, covered in dirt and under attack by an army of hungry mosquitos. My only other option is to weed the garden after midnight with a flashlight.


     Even though there are numerous things that I suck at, there are plenty of things I excel in. I'm a good wife and mother, and I'm great at multitasking----I can sing off-key in my car while wearing all black....and make the smoothest right turn you've ever seen.


***NEWS FLASH***  This has been an amazing week for Meno Mama! My NEW post, "My Love Of Pets Started To Affect My Marriage" has been shared in several major magazines, including Good Housekeeping, Cosmopolitan, Women's Day, Country Living and House Beautiful. I'm already loving 2016!!

***WANT MORE MENO MAMA? Catch my NEW humor post, " Why I Don't Sleep With My Husband" featured on Bonbon Break this week! You can read it here: http://www.bonbonbreak.com/why-i-dont-sleep-with-my-husband/

 
    My spare closet is stuffed with clothing from the bygone era of my youth. This includes a few maternity outfits from the late 1980's that I just haven't had the heart to part with. Goodwill probably wouldn't want a tent-size nautical shirt with a big white bow on the collar, anyway.