My new “Toddler Diet” has been successful in making me more fit due to increased physical activity, regular weight-lifting, and healthy eating. My 15-month-old granddaughter visited overnight and most of the day. We had a lovely time reading books, playing with toys, hiding in the pantry, scampering up and down stairs, dancing to music, and sharing exquisite snacks of banana puffs,cheese, apple sauce, and turkey sandwiches topped off with some warm organic milk. Mmmmmmm good. There was no time for my usual staples of chocolate and red wine.A local toy store recently went out of business, so I stocked up enough supplies to pass for a professional child care facility. I estimate that I’ve reduced my waist two inches by picking up those toys one million times. I’m finally getting smarter at this grandmother thing and have stored most of the toys in plastic boxes. (I got the boxes to organize my office, but that’s another issue.)I also lifted the 25-pound darling enough times to know that’s the amount of weight I need to lose so I can continue to scamper up and down stairs. She makes me laugh with her energy and antics, and when she’s drifting off the sleep, she makes me cry. Being a grandma is a huge benefit of being this darned old.
Sexless in the City
I recently joined seven feisty females over forty for dinner and the movie ‘Sex and the City.’ I rarely watched the show on television, so I was expecting a pandering, plotless portrayal of bed-hopping bimbos. I was pleasantly surprised. The movie was fun, and it included just the right amount of bold sass and bare ass.After the movie, three of our group went home to husbands and four went home alone. Of those four, one was recently widowed, two were divorced, and one was separated from her husband. The variety and reality of our lives didn’t matter. We enjoyed the evening and weren’t shocked at images that would have sent our mothers into counseling and confession. We’ve come a long way from our first “skin” movie, ‘The Graduate’ with a fresh-faced Dustin Hoffman.
Women of the Web
This blustery blog has been accepted in the Blogs By Women directory (whoo hoo happy dance!), a community of almost 5,500 women bloggers who are distributing their dreams, diaries, and dubious deeds on the web. To preview the blogs, copy and paste the first link or just click on the second link. http://www.blogsbywomen.org/
Midlife Cabernet: Always Wear Underwear in Case of Emergency
When our mothers admonished us to wear clean underwear just in case we were in an accident, we dutifully obeyed for fear that during an emergency the medical personnel would rush to our rescue but suddenly stop tending to our injuries. “Look, Bob, this one isn’t wearing clean underwear,” we imagined the EMT muttering in disgust. “Let ‘er bleed out.”
A recent experience caused me to reevaluate my lackadaisical commitment to the strict rules of wearing underwear. The event that must never be mentioned again happened in front of a posh day spa. I was in an accident – but the underwear wasn’t an issue because I wasn’t wearing any.
A few special times each year, I treat myself to a hot stone massage at a spa just ten minutes from my house. To avoid unnecessary dressing and undressing, I slip on baggy sweatpants, an oversized sweater, flip flops and a hat and drive to the spa. Easy in, easy out.
Until last week.
After a wonderful 90-minute session, complete with lavender-infused oils, eucalyptus aromatherapy, and a brain-numbing scalp massage, I donned my innocuous outfit and sauntered to my car. Still relaxed, I put the car in reverse and promptly bumped into the UPS van parked behind me. Talk about a rude awakening! My dreamlike aura shattered into an ugly nightmare.
I jumped out of the car, clutching oily arms across my unsecured chest, and rushed back to the van. The driver, of course, was a handsome young stud juggling boxes of potions and lotions for the beautiful people who pranced in and out of the spa. My rumpled hair resembled the matted hide of a swamp rat, my frumpy sweatpants clung to my greasy skin, and I suddenly became acutely aware that I could double as an itinerant bag lady caught in an oil slick.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” he said. “I shouldn’t have parked behind you.”
I resisted the urge to call him “Boy” and swallowed my pride about being called “Ma’am.” My pride tasted strangely like lavender.
We surveyed the scene and couldn’t see any damage to either vehicle. The only injury was to my self-esteem. He smiled, took one last confused look at me, and then moved his van. By now a group of interested beautiful people was watching from inside the spa. I lowered my head, shuffled to the car, looked both ways, and then drove away. I won’t return for several years.
Today’s blog was fueled by a 2010 Black Sears Vineyard Zinfandel from Napa Valley. Sold only at the V. Sattui Winery, this special vintage was bottled to celebrate the 125th anniversary of the winery. It’s rich and delicious and will cause you to forget you’re drinking Zinfandel instead of Cabernet. If you’re enjoying it at home, underwear is optional.
You’re not crazy! It’s hormonal imbalance!
If you’re having weird symptoms – more strange than usual – check out this web site. You can take a profile that covers 21 symptoms of hormonal imbalance, including mood swings, weight gain, hair loss, vaginal dryness, and anxiety. (Ain’t midlife great!) At least it’s good to know there are medical reasons for your temporary insanity. The site offers natural remedies to help you keep your cool. Women to Women — Changing women’s health — naturally
Today’s Cabernet
Today’s blog was fueled by a glass of 2005 Charles Krug Cabernet Sauvignon from Napa Valley. This wine is robust and full bodied, like many of my friends, and is about $26 a bottle.
