Menopausal Mother

     I'm excited to share a post today from a guest writer who is discussing a subject we menopausal ladies can all relate to: HOT FLASHES! I discovered Lisa Thompson's blog, Lisa Thompson Live, last year and have been enjoying her informative articles ever since. I think you'll get a kick out of today's post as well. Please welcome Lisa to Meno Mama's site with lots of comment love!
                             Hot Flashes of Confidence 

1.) The overzealous spin teacher who keeps the thermostat at 85 degrees in a small, dark room that smells of sweat and the tears of unshed Starbuck's calories.

2.) Anyone named Mindy, Brittney, or Gustavo.

3.) The older gentleman known for flatulence problems who stands next to you in yoga class. Move your mat before he goes into the downward dog position.


4.) The personal trainer/health enthusiast/protein shake junkie who calls you, "Bro" and "Dude" during your 60 minute, $85 session.

5.) Excessive sweaters who blatantly ignore the box of antibiotic wipes after leaving a pool of their DNA on the elliptical machine.

6.) Women in Lululemon leggings.

7.) People who "save" their spot in Zumba class fifteen minutes early by leaving a water bottle and a towel on the floor to mark their territory in front of the mirror.

8.) The perky, twenty-something vegan pushing overly priced kale and flaxseed smoothies at the juice bar.

9.) Men who wear toupees and lurk by the inner thigh trimming machine to observe your press and squeeze technique.

10.) The grunting weight lifter who ate two, double-stuffed bean burritos last night.


11.) People who hog the treadmill while reading text messages or taking gym selfies #werkit #fierce #slay #fitbitch

12.) Anyone listening to Miley Cyrus.




Posted by Marcia Kester Doyle (Menopausal Mama) 12/1/17

     I hate counting carbs and watching every calorie that goes into my mouth. I also hate getting my yearly physical---especially the weigh-in part. No, scratch that. The pap smear is worse. Nothing says "vulnerable" more than sitting in a freezing cold cubicle with nothing on but a paper wrapper that exposes my lady bits to the world. Once I hear the snap of the rubber gloves, I know the doctor is about to pry me open as if I was a tightly sealed clam. Thank goodness my doctor has butterflies taped to the ceiling to fool me into thinking I'm in a spring meadow rather than on a table with my feet in stirrups.

     If you've already hit middle age, then you know you need to be more mindful of your lifestyle. This means no more midnight runs to Taco Bell or downing Jager Bombs at 2:00am. Although Keith Richards has done a great job proving most of the health gurus' advice wrong, he is the exception. Sorry, but you're going to have to put down that bacon burger and reach for some fresh kale.

     The key to staying healthy and living longer is pretty simple. Eat
right, exercise, and see your doctor on a regular basis. If you take this advice, chances are you'll be around long enough to see astronauts land on Mars.


KEEP UP WITH YEARLY DOCTOR VISITS

    It's important that every midlifer visit their dermatologist, optometrist, dentist, gynecologist and nutologist (okay, I made that one up for the men) and, in 5-10 year increments, the proctologist. Yep, you need to have a camera shoved up your you-know-what to check for colon cancer and polyps. No worries---pretty soon they'll have a smart phone to do the colonoscopy for you.

     Ladies, be sure to keep up with your mammograms as well. Personally, I think men should be required to have nutograms, just to even the score….


EXERCISE REGULARLY 

     If you're as lazy as I am, this is a tough one. I can work up a sweat just trudging through shag carpet to get to the refrigerator. Get those Rollerblades out of the attic, dust off your spandex leggings and clean the rust out of your bicycle (but first, check for spider colonies in the spokes). If you own a Fitbit, wear it daily to see how many miles you've walked and the amount of calories you've burned. If the bracelet is still sitting in the box, then your Fitbit has turned into a Fatbit.


     It's no longer acceptable to sit through a Netflix marathon with one hand buried in a bowl of chips and the other wrapped around a soda can. You need to switch out the couch for a treadmill, and swap the chips and soda with a water bottle and a sweat rag. Don't be one of those people who makes a New Year's resolution to go to the gym religiously, and then when Easter hits, you quit. Cadbury Creme Eggs and Peeps are not an excuse to stop exercising.


EAT HEALTHY

     Remember those yummy chocolate milkshakes you used to suck down at the local burger joint? Fuggedaboutit. Your drink of choice now has a new name. It's called a "chia seed and kale smoothie." Just add a banana, some Greek yogurt and a touch of honey so that you won't feel like you're drinking something that came from the bottom of your husband's lawn mower bag.

     I'll bet you also remember when breakfast was FUN. Bacon, eggs, hash browns, donuts…..does that ring a bell? Sorry, but it's time to say sayonara to that heart attack on a plate and opt for egg whites scrambled with fresh spinach, a cup of fruit and a thin slice of whole wheat toast (hold the butter, please). Chicken and fish will become your best friends too, with steak being the one-night stand that haunts your dreams.

     You're going to need to ease up a little on the caffeine and wine, too. Well, maybe the caffeine isn't so bad if you don't mind hanging out with the owls. And wine? Heck, that's made from grapes….and grapes are fruit. Fruit is part of the food pyramid, so go ahead and fill up your glass.


     My advice for midlifers who want to stay healthy? Don't eat any corn before you go the proctologist.

     And keep your clam clean.




     


      

 
 Menopause is that tricky "change of life" time better known as the "sucky phase" in a woman's life that no one ever wants to talk about.   Sorry ladies, but menopause is a fact of life, and how you handle it is all in the attitude.  It's known as "the change of life," not the END of life, which means that it isn't ALL bad.  Look at it as an era of new freedom. Yes, you heard me right. There IS an upside to menopause, and I've come up with a list of 10 reasons why you should look forward to this challening-but-interesting time in your life.

1.  No More Periods:  You can swim with the sharks and not worry about becoming fish bait. You can also go camping in the mountains in Montana without fear of grizzly bears shredding your tent in search of raw meat.

2.  Weight Gain:  This can be great, but only if the extra weight is distributed in the right places.  If it goes to the breasts, you've got a built-in floating device to prevent drowning in a pool.  If it gives you a badonkadonk butt, you can sign up as a backup singer for a Beyonce music video.  But if the excess weight settles in your stomach, you're going to have to tell everyone it's an inoperable food tumor that you are forced to carry for the rest of your life.

3.  Hot Flashes:  Sporting a shiny, red face and sweat rings under your arms has its advantages.  It fools people into thinking you just had an invigorating session at the gym or in the bedroom.  Hot flashes also keep your heating bill down in the winter and help you sweat out those extra calories from the chocolate Nutty Buddy cone you scarfed down in your car at the gas station.

4.  Memory Loss:  It's sorta like early dementia.  It erases all those nasty movie reels from the past that you'd rather forget.  Like the night you puked spiked cranberry juice all over your white birthday party dress.  Or the time your husband thought it was a good idea to clear the dance floor at your best friend's wedding reception by doing The Worm in his tuxedo.

5.  Loss Of Libido:  You no longer have to feign headaches.  Just remind your spouse that your lady parts are as dry as tumbleweeds rolling across Death Valley and he'll leave you alone.

6.  Mood Swings:  You can be Freddy Krueger one minute or a Care Bear the next, and nobody will accuse you of being bipolar like they did in the car pick-up line at the elementary school when you were a hot mess mama in your thirties.

7.  No Longer Fertile:  You'll never have to worry about birth control again.  The money you save can then be invested in Viagra stock.

8.  Insomnia:  You get to add an extra 4 hours to your day since you'll only be sleeping for 3.  All those pesky items on your to-do list will be finished in no time.  But you're going to need some spackle in your makeup box to hide those duffel bags under your eyes.

9.  Dry Skin:  This is your excuse to go shopping and spend a fortune at the Lancome counter at the mall.  No one wants to look at a face that resembles an elephant's ass or a 10 year old Shar Pei.

10.  Fatigue:  Your body shifts into narcoleptic mode every day after lunch.  To combat the fatigue, you have an excuse to invest in a gold card membership to Starbucks or convince your boss you have a medical condition that requires a midday nap on the floor under your desk.  Be sure to carry a pillow with you at all times.

     Once you change your attitude, menopause isn't all that bad.  You just have to learn how to roll with the hot flashes, bloating and roller coaster mood swings.....and it wouldn't hurt to have a healthy stock of wine on hand at all times, just in case.....

   
 It starts with a glance in the mirror or a family picture that has been plastered all over Facebook. Yeah, that one of you stuffing half of a red velvet cupcake into your mouth.  Even your long lost relatives who are sheep herders on another continent are sharing and commenting on that picture: "Awww...look how much she's GROWN over the years..." This is fine if they're talking about a five year old, NOT a middle aged mother.
     My wake-up call hit like a clap of thunder thighs the day I uploaded some pictures taken from our local renaissance festival.  Who was that chubster in the blue gown next to Mr. Robin Hood-Wanna-Be? Oh yeah, that's me...wait, WHAT? Okay, I'll admit I've been a little heavy-handed with the desserts lately. And the frappuccinos. Those pesky, two-for-one sales at Wine-Mart haven't been doing me any favors, either. But what am I supposed to do when there's an industrial size jar of Nutella in my pantry, just calling my name? You could spread that stuff on styrofoam and it would still taste good.
     Upon closer inspection of my physical flaws in that traitor I call a mirror, I knew I had to get myself back into the svelte clothes growing cobwebs in the back of my closet. I joined an all-female gym, but quickly realized that my workout clothes from the Richard Simmons era were sadly outdated. I needed a new gym wardrobe, but me visiting a sporting goods store for clothes to sweat in is a perfect example of an oxymoron.

     I made the mistake of inviting The Hubs along to help me choose my new gear. He was a little TOO  enthusiastic at the prospect of his wife getting back into shape. I roamed the aisles until I found the women's workout clothes section and stopped dead in my tracks. Who were these manufacturers kidding? The "large" tops were the size of small sausage casings. I'd be lucky if I could stretch the shirt to fit one arm. Further down the aisle I came across a row of "grande" tank tops. In white. I envisioned a fat polar bear wearing a pink headband and hopping around the gym floor during Zumba class. I shuddered.


     And then the unthinkable happened....every chubster's worst nightmare. My brilliant Hubs was  across the store in the men's department. He held up an armload of colorful tee shirts and shouted, "Hey Hon, you need a larger size? I found a 2X in the men's department that might fit you!"  I should have slapped a muzzle on the man during public outings years ago.
     I quickly grabbed a few pairs of yoga pants and some tee shirts with motivational sayings on them such as, "Just Do It" and, "I like to lick cake batter off beaters" (No wait---that was for something else!).
     Not willing to suffer alone, I convinced one of my daughters to join the gym with me because misery loves company (and paybacks are hell). We spent our first few, torturous days with a personal trainer to learn how to use the weight equipment. But mostly we learned how not to grunt too loudly like truffle sniffing oinkers or sweating too much like two sumo wrestlers in a sauna.
     The day of our first Zumba class, I surveyed the group and was pleased to see a nice mix of ages and body types. Women's shapes are often compared to certain fruits---apples, pears, oranges...and the occasional grapefruit. I was in the midst of a fruit salad ready to learn some sexy Zumba moves. Music with a heavy, Latin beat reverberated against the walls and we began hopping around the wood floor like Mexican Jumping beans. I tried to concentrate on the dance steps but my mind kept wandering....a typical defense mechanism against the extreme pain I was in from my workout with the trainer. My thighs were so sore that I'd been forced to walk around with a full bladder all day just to avoid squatting over a toilet seat. Rather than listening to the Zumba instructor, my mind was swept along with the cluttered debris of A.D.D. ----random thoughts scurrying through my brain like rapid channel surfing through 450 television programs:

     "Drop it drop it low girl....drop it like it's hot....oh yeah, I got this booty shakin' thing down....wait. Why isn't my butt moving like everyone else's? And what's that popping sound in my lower back? At least I'm rockin' these new, neon green Nikes....actually, they kinda look like twin sand barges in the ocean. Uh-oh.....should have worn some Spanx. My junk is jiggling in all the wrong places. I swear I can still see those damn cupcakes sitting on my hips, mocking me. Crap, it's hot in here. Hot flash hell. Hard to breath. Heart, don't play me like that. I'm not dropping dead in Zumba class! It would scar my daughter for life. Hey, where did she learn to shake her ass like that, anyway? Probably snuck out of her bedroom window to hit the dance clubs all those nights I thought she was snug in bed. Umm...am I in Pole dancing 101 right now? And who's bright idea was it to place mirrors around this brightly lit room? I'm so pale I look like I've been cohabiting with family of moles.
OH HOLY MOTHER OF GOD! Is that what I think it is----camel toe? I need new pants!! Hey, what's the food channel doing on the gym TV? They should be showing infomercials for weight loss supplements or....ohh, Paula Dean is making smothered pork chops with gravy....do I have any pork chops in the freezer? Wait---what fresh hell is this---more squats? Yoo-hoo teacher, I'm dying over here. I'm not gonna Busta Rhymes---- I'm gonna busta femur. Oh great...now I'm sweating so much my makeup is running down my face
. I look like I belong at a KISS concert. Whoa! Paula Dean is baking a chocolate marble cake! Are you kidding me? She needs to get over here and do this freakin' Zumba class!  Huh? Cool down time already? You mean we're done? I made it! I didn't die on the Zumba floor!"


     Its been a few months now and Meno Mama is getting closer to brushing the cobwebs off her skinny clothes. I'm droppin' it like it's hot in Zumba class without feeling a heart attack coming on. The only thing I need now is new tee shirts from the sausage casing aisle....or maybe just some cupcake batter.....