Luckily, I have a family that supports my writing, even though my career often sabotages my intentions of running an efficient home. I can't remember the last time I ironed a shirt or used the vacuum, which explains why there are dust balls the size of Arizona tumbleweeds rolling across my floor. The dirty clothes in the laundry room are multiplying faster than a pack of feral cats, and I'm certain there's a colony of orphaned socks hiding behind the dryer.

     Some days I'm plagued by writer's block, and all I have to show after sitting at my desk for six hours is a daisy chain made of paper clips. But on a good day with enough coffee to fuel the creative spirit, my muse goes into overdrive and there's no stopping me. This also means there is no time to make dinner, and my family is forced to forage in the freezer for whatever unidentifiable food they find entombed in plastic containers. It's amazing what they can create with stale hotdog buns and a bag of frozen carrots that were purchased when President Bush was in office.

     There are other times when I'm so engrossed in my writing that I forget to shower and shave, which accounts for the increased Yeti sightings in our area. My disheveled appearance is a testament to the hours I spend at the keyboard, although it's tough explaining this to my husband, the mailman, and my embarrassed teens when their friends catch me in my cereal-stained bathrobe at 4:00 p.m. It's all part of living the writer's dream, although no one warned me that I'd also become proficient at tuning out Fetty Wap blasting from my kid's room, or ignoring the temperamental toilet that's flooding my bathroom floor. The minivan needs an oil change and the dogs are overdue for their yearly deworming, but as a writer, I can see beauty in all the chaos. Tumbleweeds and toilet rings be damned----I'm embracing the writer's life wholeheartedly, one dirty sock at a time.





***WANT MORE MENO MAMA? I have a NEW post up on Robot Butt this week: "12 Things To Keep You Busy While You're Unemployed"---you can read it here: http://www.robotbutt.com/2018/03/24/12-things-keep-busy-youre-unemployed/ Also, on Pickle Fork this week: "The Little White Lies Men Tell Themselves": https://medium.com/pickle-fork/the-little-white-lies-men-tell-themselves-a2aff92047e2 AND.... another poem on P.S. I Love You: "Winter In Fayette" https://psiloveyou.xyz/winter-in-fayette-ea35e8520c1c

     We all have those craptastic days when multiple things go wrong. Bad things. Some call it Murphy's Law. Others simply refer to it as a streak of bad luck. I like to blame my misfortune on gremlins, because it's easier to blame them, rather than admit that I may or may not have done something stupid.

     I was inspired to write a post about the things that make me say, "UGH!" after reading my friend Seanna's blog---The Seanna Method, on this very same subject. She came up with quite a few things that drive her crazy, but I have some more pet peeves of my own to add to the list, such as:


Stepping outside your back door in the morning, right into a pile of dog poo....barefoot.

When you just finish waxing the car and it rains.

Digging out slimy food particles that are stuck in the dish drain <gag>

When someone puts the toilet paper roll on backwards. Savages!

You think you're done folding that mountain of laundry only to find that the dryer is packed with more clothes. Hey, at least they're clean!

When you're trying to stick to your diet and the kids bring home a large pizza....with extra pepperoni on top.

You get out of the shower, towel off, and realize you forgot to shave your legs. Decision time: shave or be mistaken for Bigfoot.

When you're napping on a Sunday afternoon and the kids pop over for a surprise visit...with three of their loudest friends.

The way your stomach feels when you overdo it.....such as after a Thanksgiving feast and that second helping of pumpkin pie you should have skipped.

You accidentally wash your new t-shirt in hot water and it shrinks down two sizes. Your shirt is now a crop top. Welcome to the 80's!

When you've sworn off sugar for the month, and someone shows up at work with a box of donuts.

You're late for an appointment but you can't find the car keys you had in your hand five minutes ago. Early dementia?


When its 90 degrees out, you're hot flashing, and the A/C quits.

You're more than halfway done writing an email or essay online and the internet goes out. And of course, you forgot to SAVE the document.

When you're trying to get some sleep but your neighbors have gone out for a late evening and left their non-stop barking dog outside.


You're late for work and drive six blocks from home before realizing you might not have locked the front door.

When you're in the middle of watching a really good television program and the cable goes out.

Solicitations for bank loans, credit card debt, and people looking for donations to save wayward cats, who phone your home during the dinner hour. Don't even get me started on the political phone calls......

When friends stop by your house unannounced and you haven't bothered to clean the place in a week. Even worse when you've just microwaved cabbage and salmon for dinner and the house smells like a fishing wharf.


     Can you relate to these troublesome situations? What sort of things make you say, "UGH!" ??

****WANT MORE MENO MAMA?  This past week I had two essays featured on different sites! Read about my Zumba class bonding experience at Her View From Home. Then check out my perspective on the elderly and how they are being shunned by today's youth-oriented society, which you can find at Fifty Shades Of Aging.

     In order to occupy my time during the long power outage, I did what I do best when I'm stressed----I turned to humor and wrote the following post on how to prepare for a hurricane. Enjoy! 


1. Turn on weather channel. Note lines for bottled water, gas, and plywood. Hit panic mode the minute you realize you are in the "cone of concern."

2. Ignoring the gallons of available tap water from your kitchen sink, map out strategic plan to find brand name water bottles in your neighborhood. Camp outside Walmart at 5:30 a.m. until the supply truck rolls in.

3. Tune into weather channel, chew your fingernails down to bloody stubs and tell everyone on social media how frightened you are.


9. Update your will.


15. Celebrate your survival by polishing off the rest of the Twinkies. 



Posted by Marcia Kester Doyle (Menopausal Mama) 9/15/17

     Last month I wrote about the fifteen things no parent should have to say to their teen daughter (you can read it HERE). So what about the boys? I've raised two sons, as well as daughters, and it seems that in every stage of my boys' lives, from the moment they stood unassisted to when they took their first step, there was a battery of things I NEVER imagined I would have to say to my little male bundles of joy. When they were young, it was the simple stuff like, "I know it looks like a Tootsie Roll but you can't play with the cat's poop"…..."Stop eating dirt---it's not part of the food pyramid"…... "No, that humming wand you found hidden in the back of Mommy's drawer can NOT be used as lightsaber while playing Star Wars."

     Raising boys is a whole different ballgame, and their teen years are known to reduce even the toughest of parents down to a puddle of anxiety and insecurities. Please know that if you have uttered one or more of the following statements to your teenage son, you're not alone:



*You're gonna need a chain saw to cut those toenails.

*If you keep 'borrowing' gas money from me, I'm trading in your car for a Vespa.

*Just because you have laser lights and a stereo system the size of a Winnebago in your room, it doesn't mean that you're allowed to host a rave every weekend. Our house withstood several hurricanes, but I'm not sure it'll last through the rumblings of your bass.

*Please chew with your mouth closed. I don't need to see how fast your molars can masticate a steak.

*Did you wipe?

*You're going to have arthritis in your fingers by the time you're twenty-five from using your cell phone 24/7.

*I don't care how pretty she is---when you take her out on a date, you'd better be thinking with the big head and not the little head.

*All that stinky laundry on your closet floor is making your room smell like a Porta Potty that hasn't been cleaned out in months.

*If you're going to spend THAT much time in the shower, then you need to start scrubbing all the extra  "conditioner" off the shower doors.

*Pay your speeding tickets before you end up on a television episode of Cops.

*No, you will not get carpal tunnel syndrome from flushing the toilet several times a day.

*It's going to take an ice cream scoop to clean all that wax out of your ears.

You need to make a cell phone payment instead of spending your entire paycheck on sneakers…unless, of course, you plan on ditching the wheels in favor of using your feet to get around.

*Yesterday there was a five pound ham in the refrigerator, and now it's gone. A gallon of milk, two bags of chips, a loaf of bread and an entire box of Oreos are also missing. If you step on the bathroom scale, I think I can solve the mystery of the missing food.

*Belching the alphabet is not a skill that women find attractive.


Thankfully, one of my sons is now an adult who has turned into a fine gentleman. My youngest (and feistiest) still has a few more years to go, but the way I see it, he'll be the one who ends up married with four children. Hopefully all boys.

I'd better keep an ice cream scoop in my pocket at all times…..just in case.








***This week I was thrilled to be featured on Beyond Your Blog! You can read my post about living the writer's life here: http://www.beyondyourblog.com/its-a-writers-life-for-me/#

 
     I have two adult daughters who are the light of my life, but I have to admit---their teen years were not the brightest. I could have done without the arguments over the boys they dated, the clothes they wore or the fact that they mastered crawling out of a bedroom window late at night without disturbing the dogs.

     Any parent who makes it through their child's teen years unscathed deserves a metal of honor. Perhaps more so if they've been able to successfully raise daughters.

     There are certain things that no parent should EVER have to say to their little darlings once they've transitioned from the tea party, dress-up stage to Cyndi Lauper's girls-just-wanna-have-fun stage. Although the parent may feel they have a handle on raising their teen girl, it's inevitable that one or all of the following lines will be uttered from their lips at one time or another:

*Drop that hem about four more inches before you leave the house.

*You want to put a tattoo where?

*I know you consider twerking a skill, but that still doesn't mean you should dance like that in public.

*You'll need to buy another cell phone just to store all your bathroom selfies.

*Of course you won't gain five pounds from eating three Milk Duds at the movie theatre.

*No, I'm not leaving work just to bring you a tampon at school.

*You could save a lot of money by actually washing your clothes instead of buying new ones to avoid doing laundry.

*There's a great deal on Amazon right now for chastity belts.

*No, you're not allowed to get your belly button, nose or nipples pierced.

*You're not going to experience life on the back of a motorcycle until you're over twenty-one.

*Yes, there really is such a thing as too much eye liner.


*I don't care how cute he is---if his I.Q. matches his shoe size, you can't date him.

*No, you won't be scarred for life by scraping old food off the dishes before you load them into the dishwasher.

*If the clock strikes twelve and you're not home, your car won't turn into a pumpkin but your social life will turn into the black hole while you're grounded.

*No, you're not allowed to use your college loan money for a Brazilian butt lift.



     I'm proud to say that I survived raising two teen girls----despite a few tattoos and piercings along the way. Thank God for BOGO sales on chastity belts!

   


Want more Meno Mama? This week, my article, "The Invisible Generation," is up on The Huffington Post.  You can read it here: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/marcia-kester-doyle-/the-invisible-generation_b_6938344.html

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

1. You'll no longer need to waste money on expensive theme parks with fast rides. Your teen will gladly attach your rolling office chair to his bike with a rope and pull his buddies down a busy highway. Like heart-stopping rides? This one's for you.
   
   
2. Piss yellow will become your favorite bathroom tile shade because there isn't enough Clorox in the world to make those urine stains around the toilet disappear.
     
3. Like exotic pets? Great, because small critters love to nest in the sour-smelling pile of laundry at the back of your son's closet. Dirty dishes and half eaten cheese sticks will also invite armies of cockroaches set up their vacation homes under his bed.
   
   
4. If you failed science in high school, don't worry. You're going to get a hands-on education about fire, electricity, and how much damage a potato bomb can do to your neighbor's fence.
   
   
5. You'll lose those last, stubborn ten pounds because all boys are born with noses like bloodhounds. They'll sniff out every hidden cookie, potato chip, and even the chocolates from Mother's Day that you tried to disguise in an empty Summer’s Eve douche box. Your grocery bill will triple during his teen years but your waistline will shrink. Just be sure to lock the liquor cabinet before he turns fifteen.
   
   
6. Miss those nights of club hopping from your twenties? Relive your youth when your teenager hosts raves in his room while blasting techno and dubstep from subwoofers the size of refrigerators. Toss back some tequila shots chased by a few aspirin and you'll feel like you've time traveled back to the good ol' days at a fraternity house party.
   
   

 
    There was a time when I took pride in the fact that my house was one of the busiest (and noisiest) on the street. I had four children of my own, took care of five others during the after school hours, and maintained a revolving door for all the neighborhood kids to come over whenever they chose.
     On one particular rainy afternoon, I counted seventeen kids (ranging in age from 10-17) in my matchbox-sized home. I'm convinced that this is when my love for margaritas began.
     My house was always LOUD. Music blasting, televisions blaring, giggling, squealing and raucous games of basketball in the driveway---this was the norm. The chaos never bothered me. I loved my role as the entertaining "cool" mom, and was happy to provide enough calorie-ladened snacks to feed an army brigade.
     I was also ten years younger with an endless supply of energy that could rival the stamina of the Energizer bunny.
     Three of my four children have grown and flown the coop. The last one still at home is eighteen and he'd rather have a root canal than spend an evening at home with dear old Mom and Dad. This allows us quite a bit of wiggle room for privacy and a glimpse of what life will be like when the last one packs his bags and heads off to college (hopefully to a school on the other side of the continent). This is why I know I'm going to LOVE being an empty nester:

* A lower grocery bill. My supermarket expenses will finally be lower than my monthly mortgage payment. I will no longer need to buy stock in toilet paper, milk or Axe Body Spray.

* My car insurance rates will drop….but so will my tax deductions. Perhaps the I.R.S. will count fostering male dogs with bathroom handicaps as a tax deduction.


* My house will stay clean. No more hazardous waste piles of laundry or a bathroom requiring a
Hazmat team to scrub it clean.

* We can travel spontaneously anywhere in the world---or maybe just to Walmart---without needing to hire a babysitter.

* No more math homework (Y=mx+b... HUH?), erupting volcanoes in the kitchen (science experiment) or thirty page term papers on the Civil War that create tears of frustration (and several shots of tequila for mom).

* My husband and I can finally have a REAL adult conversation instead of the usual, "Has he pooped today?", Did she eat her greens?", "Make sure he brushes his teeth before bed", "Does she want fries with that?"

* No more detailed school supplies lists from teachers (what do you mean you need a specific brand of environmentally safe markers made in China by three-fingered panda bears?). And no more expensive school uniforms (Honey, you're NOT wearing a plaid mini skirt and heels to school in a reckless  attempt to imitate Jenna Jameson in an adult movie!).

* I don't have to cook for a crowd every night. The Hubs and I will be perfectly content to snarf down a bowl of Cocoa Puffs for dinner while watching an episode of Hoarders.

* No more part time job as a taxi driver chauffeuring kids in a beat-up mini van to choir, gymnastics, karate, dance, soccer, cheerleading or band. It also signifies the end of chaperoning school field trips to the zoo and getting parrot poop on my head.

* Sex 24/7. Every night can be a date night, and every moment is a Cialis moment. The only thing that's missing is matching bathtubs in a wildly inappropriate place, like the tool aisle at Sears.

     As I revel in my thoughts of newfound freedom, my eighteen-year-old son informs me has picked the college he'd like to attend….and it's only ten minutes from our home. Looks like my empty nester plans will have to be put on hold a little bit longer. But I can still dream, can't I?      

***My weekly feature over at In The Powder Room is a funny spin on aging. You can read all about it here:  http://www.inthepowderroom.com/read/me-time/2013-12-truth-about-aging.html

***Want MORE Meno Mama? I am also featured on Better After 50 this week talking about my colonoscopy with The Hubs. I'm also featured again on the Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop---my holiday from hell story--- if you would like to check that out as well. Here are the links to both sites:
http://betterafter50.com/2013/12/i-got-a-colonoscopy-with-my-husband/  and  http://humorwriters.org/2013/12/07/holiday-from-hell.html