Category Archives: Uncategorized

Middleaged Woman’s Guide to Handling Mixed Emotions

Clearly, they’ve already driven me batshit crazy…

Ever find yourself so mixed up, emotionally, when with your kids that you’d like to unzip your skin and step quietly away rather than feel any more feelings? Of course you have. This type of emotional imbalance is just part of a mother’s world, I guess – and the ability to cause that imbalance is one of the tools our kids employ to drive us nuts while simultaneously filling us with feelings of love. If they didn’t fill us with so much joy, even during their most rotten moments, we would have no reason not to stab them with a gardening fork. So it is actually a survival skill of theirs.
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Someday, My Shrimp Will Come

Today I was singing a song from Into the Woods which begins, “He’s a very smart prince.” But instead, I sang, “He’s a very smart shrimp.” My middleaged brain has been mangling words right and left lately.
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I’ll Stay Middleaged, Thank You Very Much…

 I’m back and feeling more middleaged than ever. Awhile ago, I was saying how when other middleaged women talk about feeling old, I always think, “But I still feel like I’m 30,” or some such superior thing. Well, my body has betrayed me. Still, I would FAR rather be middleaged than a 15-year-old girl again. More on that in a minute. 

Quick shift of focus: when someone states to the world at large that basically God commanded her to sit her butt down and write her blog, you’d think she would actually comply (“She” being “me.”) But instead, I spent another month sitting on my Continue reading

2 Life-changing Tips: Rule the Makeup and Buy the Shoes

Listen closely: don’t let your makeup tell you what to do, or be all intimidating and, like, “You better use me the way I’m meant to be used,” and mocking you because you may never be a movie star. If your makeup talks down to you, you need to show it who’s boss. Say you spend $30 for some facial packed powder with just a touch of shimmer, and the shiny box demands that you treat it regally, and the instructions tell you to dust it gently across your cheekbones — guess what? You can simply use that as a guideline. Go ahead: put it on your eyelids as a softly glowing eyeshadow. Or brush it across your chest for an evening out, to show off your cleavage. Wearing an off-the shoulder shirt? Try it on your shoulders. Hell, dust it on the tops of your feet to draw attention to the awesome color of your manicured toes if you want. There are no rules. 
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Makeup and Mug Shots

What a Christmas break! I’d say it was about 3 months long… not that I vacationed from work or life (as if!) but I haven’t blogged in ages. It’s like when I was an angst-filled teen and young adult. I’d keep a journal for months or years, but if I skipped a certain amount of time, I’d begin to think that I had too much to catch up on, and the task was too daunting… and it became more daunting the more time went on. And it’s not like I had to fill in all the missing days — nobody was reading it but me. But even here, the longer I was away from writing, the harder it became to get back to it. Which, I guess, is the same for everything in my life, and maybe in everyone’s life. Exercise, healthy eating, enjoyable passtimes: the farther I get from the days when I engaged in those things, the more difficult — and eventually nearly impossible! — it feels to get back to them.
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I love Being Middleaged; Do You?

I’m middleaged, and I’m determined to celebrate it. Do you love whatever age you are? I’m thinking about this because of a conversation I overheard between a teenage kid and his middledaged mother recently. These are his exact words: 

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ADD Saved My Marriage (but Ruined the Ice Cream)

Discovered this morning that I left the stove burner on all night. Said a prayer of thanks for still having a house. And a family!

Middleaged friends, are you this bad? Is your brain your enemy sometimes? 

About 10 years ago, I told a therapist I was worried I was going to get into a car accident because my mind seemed so foggy when I was driving. I couldn’t focus on cars or traffic signals because I was constantly distracted. The kids were about 5 and 3 years old, so obviously they distracted me in the car. (And at many other times during the day. Well, MOST other times during the day. Okay, ALL day.) The therapist suggested that, like many middleaged women who work and have children, too much was going on in my life. If I truly worried I was going to get into a car accident (and I truly was), I needed to do something about it. I wanted to knock her down and pull her hair: what the hell did she expect me to do? Give away one of the kids? Spray lavender on my pillow and take to bed for a week?
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