Dear Viagra People,

First, I want to say: Thank you so much. I love how much you care.

And being important and cared about really matters to me.

And, there is nothing I love more than an intimate relationship with a friend, where we get down and dirty and talk about the REAL stuff: you know, sex; the real truth about menopause; how desperately I want to get on the Biggest Loser so I can be away from my family for three months; how my husband is sometimes just the teeny, weeniest bit of a moron; and then again, more stuff about sex.

And I love a friend that reaches out and really turns her caring into ACTION.

So thanks for all those emails. (I have become phone phobic since the inception of Twitter, etc.)

And thanks for caring about me and my, ahem, special relationship with my husband.

But can I just tell you something? We may be old, we may be fat (okay, I’M the fat one, but we are both OLD DAMMIT), we may be tired, overworked and cash poor, but THAT part? Uh, it still works. And by works? I mean we have still got a major THING going on!

Sometimes I feel guilty for how much I love and adore my husband. And how hot I am for him after all these years. (Okay, NOT every day or anything!!! Let’s not get ridiculous here.) And yeah, I no longer ride him like a bucking bronco (okay, I was never really “bucking”, but hey, I used to be on top).

So Viagra Drug Companies? We’re good. Well, for today.

So maybe keep those emails coming. After all, we are only getting older . . .

Thanksgiving Dinner

Yeah, that slaving over the turkey, getting up early, two days of prep, running out for last minute ingredients on Thanksgiving morning?

I’ve watched people do that my whole life.

Me? I set a nice table.

My husband used to drive me nuts, poring over the Thanksgiving editions of Bon Appetit and Gourmet magazines.

“Honey, what do you think about using chorizo and fennel in the stuffing?”

“Uh, is that what they use is Mrs. Cubisson’s? Cuz that’s my favorite, just like my mom used to make.”

(Hey, I wasn’t cooking, so chorizo and fennel it was.)

Four years ago, when we moved here to Palm Springs, my husband pulled out all the stops. Three days of prep and cooking, a beautiful feast for my in-laws and our best friends Daisy and Dennis. We sat outside, under a gorgeous sky, with a fire glowing in the back yard fire pit drinking VERY decadent Pumpkin Tinis. (See the recipe below . . .)

And then, everyone went home. Three days of work, a glowing immaculate house, for a 30 minute meal and a 2 hour visit.

And don’t get me wrong. It was DELICIOUS! But our feet hurt for days (yes, I stood around and watched – MY feet hurt too!). We were exhausted.

The next year we got take out from Jensen’s, the fancy local Grocery Store. Last year we went to a restaurant. This year? Anyone heard of Dream Dinners? Cuz we’ve already placed our order.

And cuz we are using paper plates? I will actually have time to be Thankful. (Thankful that my feet don’t hurt!)

#yummy #realpumpkinfilling #happythanksgiving

Pumpkin Martini Recipe

2 oz Vanilla Vodka
2 oz Crème de Cacao
1 tsp Pumpkin Spice (yes, from a can!)
¼ cup Half and Half or Whipping Cream (!)
Shake in a Martini Shaker filled with ice. I swear to God – it’s better than you think!!!

I Overparent. Big Picture Parenting Part 3

I overparent.

I know I have a tendency to be a helicopter mom. One of those moms who hovers over their kids making sure everyone is doing everything to help them have their best life. (Hey, I’m sorry, I watch too much Oprah.)

But today, I hit my limit.

Cuz all I do is tell my kids what to do. And all they do is ignore me. So I talk some more. And get ignored some more. Then I get pissed that they aren’t listening to me. Instead of just shutting up.

So this morning I got the message loud and clear:

We aren’t going to listen to you.
We aren’t going to find our library books.
We aren’t going to remember our lunch.
We aren’t going to turn in the library books that we did find, cuz we don’t really give a shit about the fines, even if you make us pay them. (Hey, it’s not like we sacrifice food and shelter to pay that fine.)

We are going to put our clean clothes in the hamper, cuz it is easier than opening two drawers and putting them away.

Okay Kids – Thanks for speaking so loud with your actions. I’ve got it.

Let me be clear:

I am not hosting that pool party that we’d talked about with that lovely family with the three kids, so you both have playmates for the night.

Which is great, cuz now I don’t have to pick up the house or make pigs in a blanket.

Oh, and Goodie – I don’t have to swiffer up the spilled juice off the floor the next morning.

I am not calling the hair salon to get you an appointment to get a haircut before school starts.

I am not meeting with the principal about how to make your transition to Middle School better. Work it out on your own.

And you know what? I just might forget to pick you up this afternoon. Why don’t you ask me 100 times? And I’ll ignore you 100 times. Cuz that seems to be the way the dynamic works in this family.

Okay, I will pick you up. But not at 3:00. Why don’t you just sit there in the 100 degree heat and wait a bit. See what it is like to come out of that double gate and not have Mommy standing right there, ready to give you a big hug and see how your day at went.

Cuz I hear you. This is NOT a two way street. We are NOT a team. It is all Mommy, all the time.

So God and Twitter help me! This week, you are on your own. Mommy is on strike.

Big Picture Parenting. I need a drink.

Uh . . . Face waxing is dangerous

So I had a weird week. By “weird” I mean I think I’m falling apart.

I went and got my face waxed. Now a year ago I would have asked WHY?

But now that I’m 51 and on hormones, uh, it appears there is a dramatic uptick in the growth of facial hair.

So the hot flashes are contained, but there is a wooly mammoth on my flipping face.

Also, I started using Retin A this year. Oooo, it makes my skin look lovely. (Maybe I just think it’s lovely cuz I can’t really see it through all that fur. Well, that and my eyes are shot too.)

It also makes the skin kinda thin. So I stop using it 5 days before my waxing.

Turns out, that wasn’t quite enough. Cuz when she waxed my face, my skin came off with the wax. Well, parts of the skin.

So I have scabs all over the lower part of my face. Hmmm.

Then I go to the knee doctor cuz since I’ve been trying to exercise more, I hurt my knee.

Torn meniscus. OhhhKayyy.

Then on Friday morning, I wake up with an eye infection. How do I know it is an eye infection? Cuz I went to the doctor. With my scabby face and yes, I was limping.

So here I am in my quest for fitness and beauty:

Blotchy face. Limpy/Gimpy. Red swollen eye.

Yeah – I rock.

And I need a veil. #helpme