January Blues No More

Post holidays! Don’t we all welcome the days AFTER the holiday just as much as the celebrations themselves? I certainly do. The rush, the hustle and bustle, the cleaning, cooking, buying, wrapping, planning, ack! Endless. At least it seems so and then..BAM. It’s here and over. The decorations are packed away for another year, the household back in it’s usual order and we in our routine once more. I use to not be as welcoming of this post-holiday time. January felt like a let down when the children were younger. All I could see was a long winter ahead with anxious thoughts of how to keep them all busy when it was too cold for outdoor play or we were snowed in or not enough extra cash for a family night out. The prospect of two plus months managing three children with a healthy sibling rivalry, little money and a New England winter was not conducive to a happy Mom. However, I’m older and wiser now. I relish this time. Time for me to relax on Sunday afternoons, to play board games with the GP, to take long naps on those snowed in days or just cook up a storm as another rages outside my window. To appreciate the sight of the tiny white lights that still adorn the fence and front door of the house as I drive up after a long day at work, knowing my family is safe inside, something yummy waiting to fill our bellies and warm fleece blankets to cuddle with together until the Sand Man arrives.
These are a few of my favorite things.
Happy Tuesday!

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Good Friday Morning!

Can anyone tell me why it’s snowing outside my window? I sooooo thought we were done with the wintry white stuff and freezing temps.

Silly me! This is New England after all. Just wait a minute or two, the weather will change.

Something to be said for unpredictability! Makes for interesting living.

Make it a great day!
Love and Light.

The Dentist IS My Friend (a mantra)

I’ll admit, I have a teeny weeny dental phobia. Okay, maybe more than teeny weeny but I’ve managed over the years to overcome it, for the most part, at least enough to get the necessary dental work done. I even had peridontal surgery! But that’s another post.

I sit here typing with a gaping hole in my mouth ..and a maritni by my side. After much pleading with my patient, compassionate, well skilled dentist to please replace (which means re-glue) that crown into place ONE more time, he finally convinced me it just ain’t happening and the tooth would need to be extracted in prep for a ……..dental implant. Lord, I just can’t think about it without breaking into a cold sweat. Yet when the time comes, I’ll bite the bullet..possibly his fingers….and do it.

My reason for bringing this to your attention is how I made the decision when my kids were quite young that they NOT be burdened with the same disdain for the dentist as I was. You see, when I was growing up we didn’t have dental insurance and so were only sent to the dentist in “emergency” situations. Not a fun way to establish a positive, trusted relationship with a man who you saw only when you were in pain! And so my children first saw the dentist at age 3 and I was quite diligent about bi annual cleanings and sealants, preventive care and braces. The whole enchilada.

And I continue that regimen with the GP. In fact he ASKS when his next cleaning is! He eagerly strides through the door never noting or commenting about the antiseptic smell that makes me nauseous. He smiles at the receptionist, flops in a chair with ease and comfort and hops up when his name is called like he’s first in line at the burger joint with a free coupon! And then turns to tell me as I rise to accompany him, “I’m good Nan..I’ll be right out”. I smile and nod, turn back to my chair and magazine and then think I’ve done something right here and he won’t feel the need for a martini after a dental visit.

Hey! maybe he’ll opt for dental school and I can get my dentures for free! Now there’s a thought!

Happy Thursday.
Love and Light.

What’s For Dinner?

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How many times have we heard that inquiry over the years? More importantly, how many times has the reply been one that brought a cheer instead of a frown attached to a groan? I’ve come to believe that nearly 8 yr old boys can sustain themselves on cheeseburgers, mac and cheese (boxed only), peanut butter on toast and frozen waffles (warmed in the toaster that is).
I try my best not to make meal time a battlefield. It causes stress around a time that should be relaxing and facilitates a reconnection back to the family after a day away. With all the issues many of our children face, the last thing we as parents need to add is an eating disorder! Now I’m not so naive as to think lecturing about why that wilted green thing on your child’s plate is nutritiously good for them will lead to anorexia, however, it certainly won’t foster pleasant memories of time spent around the dinner table.
The Spouse is a man who believes it’s important for kids to have a variety of foods. He touts the nutritional value of different vegetables; the warnings about consuming too much read meat or the benefits of fruits every day. I concur with it all. But try telling all that to a finicky eater as you place an artichoke on his plate! I didn’t eat one until I was over 50. Mainly because I was too embarrassed to ask HOW to eat the darned thing and to be honest it looked like a lot of work for such little pleasure. But I digress.
If you’ve got a picky eater or find yourself on the receiving end of more moans than cheers at the announcement of the dinner menu, try this. Let your child plan the menu for the week with you AND go shopping for it. Give them some input, within reason of course. Chicken or fish on Wednesday? How shall it be cooked? What goes in the salad? Potato or rice? Broccoli or carrots? Try serving fruit with the meal instead of as a dessert. And let them eat it first if they choose. Pull out the good china and stemware. Use the real tablecloth and napkins and ditch the paper. A few tried and true strategies from my dining bag of tricks.
Course the trick really is, always having a new trick at the ready.

Bon appetit!

M&M’s – Menopause and Memory

Menopausal Madness

Menopausal Madness


At 56 I’m officially ‘post menopausal’. Prior to that I was menopausal, pre-menopausal and peri-menopausal. With all those pause-als I should have known there was more to this life transition than what my elders and GYN were telling me.
I believe the word “pause” is a not so subtle warning to women of what to expect when a once quick, sharp memory takes a nosedive. In it’s place comes the long……….pause. It arrives frequently and usually without warning. The word is there, right there on the tip of your tongue, teasing your brain and playing hide and seek with your dusty word retrieval skills. Sometimes you can even see it in your mind’s eye, but articulate it? Nope. At least not without a struggle. Of course it always happens when you’re trying to engage in a conversation with the hope of an intelligent exchange. Or conversing with a co worker, friend or spouse and want desperately to make a point or at least impart a coherent thought!
Lapses in memory are a part of the aging process therefore it’s to be expected. I accept that. What is unacceptable is why I can see a coffee table in my mind but end up calling it the thing-a-ma-jig because I can’t recall the name of the damn thing! The frustration rises with every passing second until at last the light bulb goes off and I can speak the illusive noun.
Names are another topic. I’ve always prided myself on being able to recall a person’s name. Now? I confess I’ve resorted to calling most men ‘honey’, which they don’t seem to mind especially if they’re over 70. And women are gracious and accepting of a warm smile and a “so nice to see you again!” said with great sincerity. Oh. And if she’s over 45, I get that little smile of knowing in return.

It’s a sistah thang.

Happy Saturday!

Wrinkles indicate where the smiles have been!

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One thing I hear a lot when acquaintances and friends are told we’ve adopted our 7 yr old grandson is “oh well he’ll keep you young, that’s for sure!” I’ve always been one to feel age is a state of mind, a number, an attitude. Having to keep up with a 7 yr old boy doesn’t change that, though I admit when the Grand Prince needs lessons on his new bicycle this Spring, sans training wheels, it won’t be Nana who’s running along side; my knees will protest.

Our society is so obsessed with the aging process or better yet keeping it at bay for as long as possible. I figure at 56 I’ve earned every crease, creak, groan, sag,  gray hair -the ones not professionally colored- and age spot that graces my face and body. Gravity is what it is, said Mr. Newton, why fight it?  Our faces and bodies will never look as they did at 25. Have you seen women who’s cosmetic surgery  leaves them looking  like a cartoon character  because they are desperate to dive into the fountain of youth over and over? Oy! Not a pretty picture.

It’s called midlife for a reason. Our youth is gone, but our living is not and there’s lots more to come. In fact the wisdom garnered over the years far outweighs the fleeting  pleasures of youth. My Dad always said, “oh to be 22 and know what I do now!” Of course I didn’t ‘get’ it until I was much older but truer words were never spoken. However, if we could have that we’d miss out on learning to live, making the necessary mistakes and gaining the wisdom over the years that ushers us into the magnificent creatures we are at 50 or 60 or 70 and beyond.

Could you, at 25 or 35 wear crazy hats or stripes and plaids or sweat pants to the supermarket and not bat an eye or cause eyebrows to raise? Could you at 25 or 35 wile away the day just reading, sipping tea, take a long walk, paint a watercolor, play with the cats all while the laundry was piled high and the dust bunnies were running rampant? Could you, at 25 or 35 have a second helping of dessert just because or relive memories of those wild escapades and travels in your younger days? I’d say the latter was unlikely since you’d probably have had those experiences as a child…with your parents overseeing them all!

Bette Davis is quoted as saying “Old age is no place for sissies”.  If we’re spending time trying to recapture what once was we’ll never enjoy the experience of that which seasons us for the second half of  life.  I know I’m going to enjoy the next phase in life’s journey without a care for or a look back  toward the ‘old days’. I’m too busy living life in the ‘not so fast lane’. And it suits me just fine.

Happy Tuesday, all you Big Girls!

Snow Day Mondays

winter-09-016Snow days are the best. Kids cheer when the announcement comes  and so do we who are so lucky as to be employed in an arena where snow days are possible. And snow days on Monday are the bomb! An instant three day weekend; a shortened work week. Ah such bliss in the midst of snow, freezing temperatures and Spring too far off in the distance for my taste, despite having put February behind us. And today, March came in like a lion.

Snow days bring no schedules to follow, no deadlines to meet, no work to get done.  I suppose one could clean the bathtub or rearrange the linen closet but why waste a good snow day on that! How about lazing on the couch with the leftover Sunday Globe? In your pj’s? All day?  Playing Scrabble online…for hours? Flipping through old family photo albums? Baking cookies? (diet be damned) Sipping plum tea with a biscotti on the side? Watching the kids pummeling each other with snowballs? How about any and all of the above?

Oh and did I mention the Spouse shoveled us out so I didn’t even have to go outside and brave the very elements that offered up an extra day of rest.

I’m a lucky woman. Yes siree.

Happy snow day Monday all!