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Five-Fact Midlife Survival Guide

July 11, 2015 By Elaine Ambrose

(Published on The Huffington Post June 20, 2015.)

Some of you have been around the block enough times to know where to avoid the mud and dog poop or when to stop and smell the roses. Others, however, refuse to try a better path so they continue to trip over the same obstacles. And, then there is thatgroup — the ones who stand in the street waiting for a free ride and then can’t understand why they get hit by a bus.

My spirited and splendid journey through life has taught me that the secrets to survival can be condensed to five easy paragraphs. It’s short because so is life. Besides, we can’t remember more than five things at a time.

1. Use your common sense. Spend less money than you make or you’ll become a slave to debt which leads to misery, failure and regret. Don’t go on a zip line through the jungle if you have a bladder problem because there aren’t any restrooms on those wobbly platforms. If you regularly eat an entire pecan pie with ice cream, you won’t look good naked. See how it works? Our brains have the remarkable ability to make good or bad decisions and choices. My mature brain tells me to manage money, avoid zip lines, and not come within 10 miles of a pie.

2. Keep that pie image (and who wouldn’t?) and acknowledge that input should balance output. If you consume more food than you need to survive, you should use enough energy to burn off the unnecessary calories. Get and stay healthy because life has a way of instantly whisking you from the high school prom to your 20-year reunion. And then it’s just a few hours before you’re sneaking into the store for reading glasses and incontinence supplies. Don’t wait until you’re older and lack the physical ability to skip with your grandchildren or chase your handsome hunk around the house, at different times of course.

3. Love to be in love. As the years go by, there is a profound sweetness in waking up with someone who accepts your wrinkles, thinning hair and sagging body parts, and then says, “Good morning, gorgeous.” Love your lover every day, from a passing wink to a sensual massage serenaded by Luther Vandross. A steady, exclusive relationship can turn a slow dance on the patio into a romantic encounter worthy of an evening in Paris. (Paris is always an adequate option.)

4. Bad things happen. No one gets a free pass on calamity. During your life, you probably will experience flat tires, funerals, diarrhea, lost love, fights with family, flatulence during a wedding, at least one broken bone, and the world’s worst boss. So you get up again, adjust your armor and holler that you’re ready for the next challenge. Looking back at the assorted chaos in my life, I realize there were far more splendid times than bad. And the truly amazing adventures happened after I initially failed or took a risk.

5. Attitude is everything. Positive, grateful people enjoy the best of life. By midlife, the laugh lines around their eyes reveal countless smiles through the miles, and their journey is one to emulate. Crabby, cynical worrywarts suck the energy from everyone they meet. Avoid them.

‘Dear Abby’ Pauline Phillips died a few years ago at the age of 94. Her advice columns appeared in 1,000 newspapers around the world. She wrote in her autobiography that her demanding job was not work because “It’s only work if you’d rather be doing something else.” I agree with her, and so my advice is to choose wisely, get healthy, love intensely, combat calamity, and be happy. Finally, remember that life is short. Make it sassy.

Do Mothers-in-Law Deserve a Punch in the Face?

July 9, 2015 By Elaine Ambrose

(Featured on The Huffington Post Fifty on July 9, 2015)

I don’t want to incite trouble between the Mommy Bloggers and the Midlife Bloggers, although that would be grand fun, but I’m feeling a bit defensive about all the mother-in-law bashing. One of my favorite websites is Scary Mommy and the contributing writers are witty, provocative, and sassy. However, many of them dislike the mothers of their husbands. Well, (snort!), maybe these young gals aren’t clones of The Queen of Sheba, either.

Scary Mommy attracts more than a million readers and claims to be “a parenting community for imperfect parents.” The site includes several delightful and informative pages that engage young women, and the topics include pregnancy, step-parenting, children, health, and travel. As a young mother, I needed this resource but the Internet wasn’t even around when I was dealing with babies, sore boobs, and projectile vomiting. I had to learn the hard way that kids were noisy, messy, demanding snot-producers who steal your heart and sometimes stomp on it.

The Scary Mommy relationship page includes a listing titled “In Laws.” One article titled “15 Mother-in-Law Behaviors that Deserve a Punch in the Face” received more than 7,000 shares on Facebook. The page almost drips with spittle and hostility mingled with a few comical jokes. Another page titled “Confessional” invites anonymous comments that can be rated in three categories: like, hug, or me, too. Here is a recent example:

“I swear if my MIL died I would have to pretend to be devastated. That would solve 99 percent of my marriage problems! Please, oh, please let her die!” That remark earned 15 favorable marks. Obviously, if the writer’s mother-in-law is aware of the comment, she should retire to a secret, gated community and change her will.

I belong to several groups of midlife bloggers, but the group’s websites don’t contain any pages that criticize or publicly embarrass our daughters-in-law. We just don’t do it. Mostly, we’re grateful that our sons grew up, learned how to change their underwear, and traded their Legos for love.

After all the admonishments about how mothers-in-law should behave, it’s my duty to offer some tidbits in exchange. Here are my suggestions for how to be the daughter-in-law who doesn’t deserve to be punched in the face.

1. I am not a mother-in-law joke. I adore my son, and if you and my son are fortunate to have children who carry my genes you’ll know why mothers remain profoundly invested in their kids. Our Mother Bear instincts don’t shut off when they grow up and leave their toys, dirty socks, and moms behind.

2. I deserve respect. I’m sorry your mama didn’t teach you to respect your elders, but I’m the one who taught your husband how to use a toilet. He chose you, and I come along as a bonus prize. If I want to come over, open the damn door and offer me a glass of wine.

3. You children sense your mocking attitude. When you complain about me in front of your kids, they imagine that I really do have horns, eat live toads, and ride a broom. I got over those behaviors years ago.

4. My unsolicited advice could be helpful. I’ve been around the block a few times and know where to avoid the piles of dog poop. Learn from my mistakes.

5. Communicate before all hell breaks loose. A little irritant can get blown out of proportion, so let’s have a conversation with you, my son, and me. This meeting shouldn’t involve weapons, lawyers, or reality television.

6. Laugh with me. If you think I’m critical of your cooking, clothes, home, or pedigree, just laugh and remind me that you’re comfortable with your life and habits, and I don’t need to mention them again. Then open more wine. We have much to appreciate about each other.

I’m extremely grateful to have a positive, loving relationship with my daughter-in-law and son-in-law. They love my children, and they don’t mind including me in their family activities. One of these days, we’ll perform a three-generation show that includes a song for everyone as we channel our best Aretha Franklin, shake our booties, and sing:
R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Find out what it means to me! I got to have (just a little bit). A little respect (just a little bit.) Sing along now.

New Ad for Blog Awards

June 19, 2015 By Elaine Ambrose

A Baby Died in an American City

June 11, 2015 By Elaine Ambrose

A baby died this week after a police officer diligently performed CPR in a frantic attempt to save her life. According to initial reports, the baby had ingested lethal illegal drugs. No one recorded the officer’s heroic measures or sent a video to the media. When the baby died, the officer wept.

This story isn’t about race, bad parenting, liberals or conservatives. It’s about a team of good police officers who worked to keep a baby alive and then responded to the next call. They were in full gear, working in 90-degree heat, upholding their pledge to serve and protect.

The current anti-cop hysteria has damaged the morale but not the mission of local law enforcement personnel. Every day they perform acts to help people, arrest criminals, solve crimes, calmly talk a person out of committing suicide, and keep the peace. They counsel foolish teenagers, direct traffic around a tragic wreck, respond to emergency situations, comfort a scared victim, remove children from dangerous homes, and watch each other’s backs. They act as school resource officers, neighborhood contacts, and charity volunteers. And, they weep over dead babies.

True, there are some bad cops; just as there are bad teachers, preachers, parents, and politicians. I openly condemn the rogue bullies in uniform, but they don’t represent the majority of law enforcement officers who work around the clock to serve and protect their communities. If you want to imagine life without law enforcement, watch the post-apocalyptic action adventure film, Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome.

Or consider the town of Ferguson, Missouri. The Kansas City Star estimates that the Ferguson riots, characterized as a spontaneous eruption of anger over the shooting of unarmed black criminal Michael Brown by Ferguson police officer Darren Wilson, cost the county $4.2 million. NBC News recently reported on the “Ferguson Effect,” http://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/violence-spikes-some-cities-ferguson-effect-blame-n368526, that notes “Violent crime — killings, robberies, rapes and assaults — is rising in half of the 10 biggest U.S. cities, including Los Angeles, where the rate is up 25 percent. Murders are up in four of the biggest cities, most notably New York.”

Or consider Baltimore, Maryland. A recent article in The Atlantic, http://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2015/06/baltimore-police-slowdown/394931/, details the spike in crime with an alarming number of murders and non-lethal shootings after the riots over the perceived police brutality in the death of Freddie Gray. After the riots, vandalism, and destruction, some think a police slowdown has resulted in the extensive increase in crime.

Now police advocates are writing about how the current anti-cop climate is beating the motivation out of cops, and the public is bearing the consequences. Read this article for a powerful insight: http://calibrepress.com/2015/06/slugs-vs-the-rest/.

The perceived racism must be addressed. An activist organization called Black Lives Matter, http://blacklivesmatter.com/, reports that every 28 hours a black man, woman, or child is murdered by police or vigilante law enforcement. In contrast, in 2013, the FBI reported that nearly 50,000 officers were assaulted on the job, and 76 were killed. The officers face a daily barrage of insults, defiance, and video cameras that never seem to record all the good deeds. In truth, all lives matter.

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It’s important to filter out all the noise and focus on solutions to the problems facing officers and citizens. Most city and county departments have programs that allow citizens to ride in patrol cars so qualified adults can join police officers and experience what they deal with on an hourly basis. Community organizations can work together to address the issues, without violence or vandalism. We can support education for all races that want to work in law enforcement. We owe it to future generations to reach across racial, political, and socio-economic barriers to become good partners, neighbors, and law-abiding citizens.

I have a colleague named Raya Fagg whose many talents and interests include supporting the Black Lives Matter movement. She also supports the police and appreciates that they put their lives on the line daily to protect and serve. We both object to the ones who are corrupt and racist. She recently blogged about her complicated relationship with the police: http://andstarringasherself.com/black-lives-matter/. With brutal honesty she writes, “It was an officer who called me a nigger when I was seven and played in a fire hydrant.”

Raya and I both have sons. Hers is an energetic teenage Boy Scout who deserves the right to live freely and have equal opportunities. Mine is an outstanding professional who deals with emotional, life-and-death situations. We both want a better country, and we both pray for our sons to return home.

The Husband Bonus: Better than an Empty Bag

May 29, 2015 By Elaine Ambrose

Tongues are wagging faster than a group of over-privileged kids on a playdate at a sucker factory. A recent article in The New York Times described the unbelievable lives of women who marry rich men and live in the Upper East Side in New York City. The author lets her pinky finger down long enough to write torrid tales of year-end bonuses paid to the women for excelling at their wifely duties. I missed that memo and married for love.

At least paying the little woman a bonus is better than killing them and substituting robots, per the movie “The Stepford Wives.” Sometimes I think the wealthy husbands would prefer androids so they could avoid and eliminate all that messy relationship drivel. I also suspect that these women could be promoted to The First Wives Club after their bored husbands find younger, prettier, more efficient models to replace them.

The must-have purchase from these pay-to-play marriages is a Hermes Birkin bag that costs around $120,000. That’s not a house; it’s a purse. As does my sensible, inexpensive, black tote bag, a Hermes treasure will hold tissues, assorted combs, lip gloss, a few pens that work, and a wallet of worn credit cards. I win.

The article created quite a commotion among my online group of middle-aged friends. Comments ranged from “Pricy Prostitutes” to “I get my designer bags on sale” to “Where’s New York?” After reading about how the hyper-scheduled children of these arranged marriages need counseling to learn how to play, I threw up my hands and my breakfast. I decided to turn the designer tables and offer my own counsel, gleaned after more than five decades on this amazing planet. I don’t need a Wife Bonus, but I’ll gladly give a regular gratuity to my husband.

Here are my suggestions for how to give a Husband Bonus.

Arrange weekly playdates. There is no need for counseling when you remind your lover that there’s a party for two tonight at 9:00. Toys and finger puppets aren’t necessary but could come in handy.
Show your private equity fund. Sleep naked and receive a robust return on your investment.
Don’t wait until yearend for a bonus. If you’re both older than 55, take advantage of the time you still have. There is a good chance you’ll be asleep long before midnight on New Year’s Eve.
The only board we’re sitting on is at the pool. The article described the duty of rich people to sit on major boards of high-profile charities. After decades of volunteering for various organizations, serving on advisory boards, and giving my time, talent, and resources, I’m turning over those jobs to younger people. I’ll take my husband and watch and support selected causes from the beachside martini bar.
Take this bag, please. I will never own a purse that costs more than my first house. A designer bag is just an empty container of stale air. I promise my sweetheart that I’ll never pine and beg for anything bigger than a Silver Oak Cabernet. I’ll offset the request with a gift certificate for a couple’s massage. See how this works?

The New York Times article stoked the flames of indignation, jealousy, and insecurity among some women who only want their husbands to earn a paycheck and come home at night. I choose not to provide links to the article or to the author and her upcoming book because she’s received enough free publicity. When the dust settles, the rich wives will have their cleaning women come over to tidy the mess, my friends will continue laughing at life, and I’ll fix a cheeseboard with cocktails for the patio and invite my husband to join me. It’s bonus time.

Why I’m Proud to be an Idahoan

May 24, 2015 By Elaine Ambrose

This week a few disgruntled people mentioned on social media that they were ashamed to be Idahoans. I’d like to remind them that Idaho is bordered by six states and one other country, all within a day’s drive. Do they need gas money?

I’m a third-generation Idahoan, and some of my distant relatives walked here on the Oregon Trail. They never whined and moaned that they were ashamed to be pioneers. They kept walking, settled in the territory, planted crops, raised livestock, taught their children how to work, and built strong communities. They were proud to be self-sufficient, and celebrated when Idaho became a state.

Many residents now complain about politics, education, religion, women’s rights, and any new “It’s not fair!” grievance that offends them. I’d like to share a hearty meal of Idaho beef, mashed potatoes, fresh vegetables, huckleberry pie, local wine, and some words of wisdom with them.

Politics. People move to Idaho from more liberal states to take advantage of the low cost of living, the family-friendly communities, the low crime rate, and the exquisite natural beauty of the state. Then they complain about the politics.

To them, I say don’t blame the politicians; blame the voters. If you want more progressive candidates, run for office or aggressively support other candidates. I’m irritated when perpetually-offended people in search of relevancy block the streets and yell in my face. I’m impressed when someone intelligently promotes a candidate or an important issue that earns my respect and my vote.

Education. I grew up in the farming village of Wendell with no opportunity for pre-school or kindergarten. I finished in 12 years and graduated from the same high school my parents graduated from 24 years earlier. I received a scholarship to the University of Idaho, graduated in four years, and began a successful career. Working during summer and spring breaks helped pay for college, and I finished debt-free. My children attended schools in Ada County and now are productive taxpayers, and my grandchildren, 5^th generation Idahoans, attend local schools.

I willingly pay annual property taxes and thousands of dollars of my tax money are designated for education. So far, I’d like a better return on my investment. Throwing more money at education is not the answer. I advocate intensive training for parents to help them better prepare their young children for school and life. It’s not the responsibility of the schools or the teachers to raise children. Their purpose is to educate students to become well-rounded, self-sufficient adults.

Religion. I grew up as a Presbyterian in southern Idaho, and the predominant religion was Mormon. They were my friends, and we co-existed without anyone getting beheaded. I’ve visited Muslim countries, and I appreciate their culture but I wish more local Muslims would condemn the horrendous atrocities committed by evil people who distort the Islamic religion.

Idaho suppresses women. I support education and opportunity for women, and I’ve been the victim of discrimination. But instead of hollering about the system, I worked and was rewarded. I was Idaho’s first full-time television news reporter and talk show hostess, an officer at Idaho Bank & Trust, and a manager at Boise Cascade Corporation. By being productive and professional, women in my generation helped break the glass ceiling for younger women.

It’s not fair! Get a grip, Buttercup. There always will be those who are richer and poorer, those who succeed with little effort, and those who work hard and fail. It’s not fair that my friend, an avid health advocate, died of breast cancer at 40. It’s not fair that my father received a transplanted liver that had cancer and killed him at age 60. It’s not fair that I’m older, and my knee hurts, and my hair is falling out, and younger women seem to have it easier than I did. What’s fair is that we all woke up this morning and have another day to choose to be productive and happy.

Get to know Idaho. I’ve lived in Wendell, Moscow, Twin Falls, Boise, McCall, Eagle, and Garden Valley. Each place has wonderful citizens and a few assorted jerks. I’m convinced that if we avoid the trap of organized outrage and get to know each other, the state and the world would be better places.

This week I drove through the Sawtooth National Forest from Ketchum to Garden Valley. The magnificent vistas included rugged mountain peaks, lush meadows bordered with rustic log fences, and eagles soaring over tumbling rivers full of melted snow. This breathtaking reality proved why I am proud to be an Idahoan. Here are some photographs of our glorious state taken and copyrighted by my friend and former Wendell resident Lisa Kidd. (View her work at http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/lisa-kidd.html.) If these reminders don’t convince some people to love Idaho, my gas money offer is still available.

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