Tag Archives: middleaged woman

How to Use Your Friends

Show of hands, please: When you have a long list of things to accomplish, who finds it impossible to decide which task to start with because they all seem equally important? Would you rather eat glass than make a phone call to, say, the accountant or pharmacy or doctor’s office or utility company?* Do you sometimes hop out of bed with obscene amounts of optimism and a plan to accomplish a Superman-sized list in a single bound? And by dinner, do you feel like a miserable failure because you have 14 pages of things left to do and you’re as tired as a toddler after her first day of preschool (and just as weepy)? Continue reading

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Tell Oprah to Shit Up, and Other Sunday Wisdom

I had nothing to say today. So I was trying to write about how I had nothing to write about when – ta da! – my brain did what it does best. That is, it got distracted and wandered off without supervision and got into trouble. So now I have something to write about after all, which is great even though dinner is ruined.
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He Can’t Toast Bread but Manages Miracle Brownies

I’ve never been the kind of mom who has a plate of warm cookies waiting on the counter for my kids when they come home from school. Certainly I’ve made plenty (okay, a few) batches of cookies in the past 18 years, but mostly any sweets we have in the house come straight from Safeway’s cookie aisle. My own mom was the same: she made a pretty good chocolate chip cookie from time to time, but usually it was Oreos or Nilla Wafers after school, and I never felt neglected. Continue reading

Warning: ‘Real Stuff’ All Over the Place

I have only one word on my mind: fifty. Not, mind you, as in fifty shades of gray or anything that exciting. Rather, fifty as in: holy fuck, I’m five decades old and what have I done with my life and how many hours have I wasted playing word games?

That kind of 50. Continue reading

So THIS Is Why I Just Can’t Do It…

When I wrote the other day that I’m not actually a grown-up, I was surprised (and delighted) that so many of you claimed to have the same problem, and I felt a little better. Then I found this draft of a blog post I wrote a year or so ago, and felt a lot better, because I realized there’s a reason I have a hard time behaving like an adult: it’s because my family has given me brain damage. Continue reading

I Am Way Sexier than College Girls (and Also More Nauseous) 

I want my life to be this.

I’ll jump right in: The three other newbies in yesterday’s Intro to Pole class were, as feared, young, thin and relatively athletic looking. They were college friends, and when the instructor, Tausha, asked why we wanted to learn pole dancing, they said they wanted to “dance against a wall” for their boyfriends. Huh? Tausha asked me what aspects of pole was I most interested in – athletics, strength, dancing, sexiness, acrobatics – and obviously I said acrobatics. Because if I could learn to hang upside down from that pole and do other cool circus kind of stuff, that would be my jam.* Continue reading

How to Plan for a Week’s Meals (and then Not Eat Them)

Learned an expensive lesson this week, people. Resolving to turn over a new leaf and actually cook, I went to the grocery store and shopped like a fiend for a week’s worth of meals. 

Here’s my lesson up front: don’t plan meals for every night of the week, because as you know, hardly anything in a middleaged mom/wife/woman’s life goes exactly as planned (probably hardly anything in anyone’s life goes exactly as planned), and the food that doesn’t get cooked will sit around your kitchen being passive agressive. Let me explain.
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