Showing posts with label prozac. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prozac. Show all posts

Friday, November 21, 2014

Fly On The Wall In A Crazy House

Welcome to another edition of Fly On The wall Group Posts! Today, sixteen courageous bloggers are inviting you into their homes for a glimpse of what goes on behind closed doors.

The fly that has been buzzing around my crazy household this month has seen me go through a roller coaster of emotions---anxiety, fear, relief and elation as the editing process on my forthcoming book, "Who Stole My Spandex?" reached the final stage of completion. A week ago, I left my "baby" in the very capable hands of my publisher. Since that day, the fly has witnessed my nail biting habit in full swing, along with me staring blankly at the computer screen. Yes, the anticipation is killing me. Mark your calendars, folks. Black Friday, Nov. 28 is LAUNCH DAY!

I've been too nervous lately to be funny, but as always, I can rely on my family for humorous blog fodder. Here's what the fly overheard in my crazy house recently:



"We're hopelessly lost. I think my GPS is drunk."

"I would only consider plastic surgery if the doctors could put my food baby belly on my butt. They could call the procedure a 'bellybottomy'."


"Ahhhh…the innocence of youth….when a two-year-old tries to put a dirty toilet plunger in her mouth."

"I'm going to cut you off from the wine now, because nobody sings 'This Land is My Land' or 'Leavin' On A Jet Plane' when they're sober."

"What the heck is this Farmers.com site I keep hearing about?"
"It's a site for lonely dairy cows looking for true love."

"I'm awake, but if you're expecting bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, go catch a squirrel."

"You're about to exceed the limits of my Prozac."

"A meal without wine is called breakfast."

"My belt, socks and baseball cap are black. My shirt and my pants are also black. NOW do I look thinner?"

"Whoever stole all of my leftover chicken salad from the fridge is a Motherclucker!"

"I just heard a commercial from a place called Harbour House for the Blind, and they're looking for used car donations. Isn't that an oxymoron…. cars for the blind?"

"I can't stop spilling beer into my mouth."

"What are you--the World Pug Herding Champion"?

"If you keep weary my socks, then I'm going to start wearing your underwear."

"I just burped and farted at the same time. It's called a 'Bart'."

"I know how I can help you sell your book. I'm going to wear an owl costume, stand by the highway with a bag of books and yell, "Whoo! Whoo! Who hasn't read this book?"


You heard the owl, folks. Buy the book on Amazon November 28th! WHOO WHOO!


Buzz around, see what you think, then click on these links for a peek into some other homes:

http://www.BakingInATornado.com                          Baking In A Tornado
http://www.therowdybaker.com                                  The Rowdy Baker
http://www.justalittlenutty.com/                                Just A Little Nutty
http://themomisodes.com                                          The Momisodes
http://spatulasonparade.blogspot.com/                          Spatulas on Parade
http://thesadderbutwisergirl.com                                   The Sadder But Wiser Girl
http://followmehome.shellybean.com                          Follow me home
http://stacysewsandschools.blogspot.com/                        Stacy Sews and Schools
http://www.menopausalmom.com/                          Menopausal Mother
http://batteredhope.blogspot.com                                 Battered Hope
http://dinoheromommy.com/                         Dinosaur Superhero Mommy
http://www.someoneelsesgenius.com                   Someone Else’s Genius 
http://www.crumpetsandbollocks.com                     Crumpets and Bollocks
http://www.juiceboxconfession.com                          Juicebox Confession
http://www.risanye.com                                              Risa Nye
http://www.gomamao.com                                    Go Mamma O

              

Friday, December 13, 2013

A Menopausal Mother's Letter To Santa

Dear Santa:

    You might remember me from last year---you know, the crazy lady who wrote a letter begging you to stuff her stocking with Prozac and M&MS? Yeah, that was me. I have a new wish list this time, so put the cookies down and listen up. You owe me that much after replacing the Prozac with a bathroom scale last year. Not funny.
     There are several things a woman needs once she hits menopause. If my husband and kids are smart, they'll attach my list to their letters to you. A happy mother equals a happy home. A raging, hormonal woman stuffing Dunkin Donuts down her throat, not so much. 
     The first thing I need is a body makeover. If you think liposuction, a Brazilian butt lift and Botox are too extravagant, I'll settle for a new girdle. Remember Wonderbras? How about getting those lazy elves of yours off the shelf to invent some WonderSpanx? My body could use the extra lift and tuck.
     Santa, can you do something about my hot flashes? I'm tired of feeling like I swallowed the sun. I'm burning from the inside out like a potato left too long in the microwave. If this keeps up much longer, I'm going to end up looking as brown and wrinkled as an overcooked spud.
     While you're at it, I'd also love a good night's sleep for Christmas. Insomnia and fatigue are sharing the same straw and sucking up all of my energy these days. At first, the insomnia part was fun. I discovered that they sell some pretty amazing stuff on the Shopping Network at 3:00 a.m. Doesn't everybody need a nose hair trimmer that doubles as a toenail clipper? 
     The extra hours of being awake were great until I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror after several days without sleep….and all this time I thought vampires couldn't see their reflection. 
     I've tried to sleep, but I'm a hot mess in bed. And not in a good way. These hot flashes have me waking every hour and sticking to the bedsheets like a rat caught in a glue trap. I'm tired of looking like a nocturnal creature or a cast member from The Walking Dead. 
     The lack of sleep is spoon feeding my mood swings. This Jeckyll and Hyde thing is getting old. Nobody wants to see a menopausal woman with OCD tendencies organizing dust bunnies according to size and weeping over the ones that die at the hands of a Hoover upright. 
     This is why I need your help, Santa. Let's make a deal. You stuff my stocking with Prozac, WonderSpanx and miracle chocolate that makes the extra pounds disappear. In return, I'll bring you my hot flashes and a palm tree to warm the North Pole so you can work on your tan.  I'll even throw in a pair of nose trimmer/toenail clippers as a gift.
     What do you say, Santa?                                                      

****Meno Mama was all over the internet this week! Here are several sites that featured some blog posts from me, including my weekly feature over at In The Powder Room:
http://www.inthepowderroom.com/read/me-time/2013-12-10-reasons-why-i-adore-my-husband.html
http://midlifeboulevard.com/hot-flashes
http://whattheflicka.com/holiday-hoarder
http://aiminglow.com/2013/12/guest-post-author-marcia-kester-doyle-five-wishes-for-santa-rtp/



        

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