Elaine Ambrose

Bestselling Author, Ventriloquist, & Humorist

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Five Reasons to Attend Your School Reunion

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first grade class 1958 elaine age 5

You wear your favorite yoga pants and the “This Wine is Making Me Awesome” t-shirt, sit down with a bag of cookies, and proceed to open the mail. Then you choke when you see the letter about the pending high school reunion only six months away. There is no way you’ll lose 50 pounds in time, so you tackle that second bag of cookies before it gets stale. And you cringe because your title of “Most Likely to Succeed” turned into “Most Likely to Wear a Bathrobe to the Store.”

In my hometown of Wendell, Idaho, the annual combined class reunion includes graduates from the past sixty years. All ages come together to reminisce, shake their heads at the rambunctious youngsters, and moan about the loss of the playground equipment.

“Kids can’t even play anymore,” they mumble. “I remember how we fell out of trees, crashed off the monkey bars, and rode our bikes without a helmet. I hit my head so many times I forgot my name. These children will never know how to have fun like we did.”

The old-timers nod and pontificate about the pending doom of society. Then the band begins playing a concoction of Country, Blue Grass, and Tent Revival music and the mood changes to positive reflection. Even the most caustic attendees adjust their suspenders and tap their manure-covered boots in sporadic rhythms.

“Look at ol’ Mr. Brown,” someone mentions about an elderly man dancing alone in the grass. “He was my parent’s teacher back in ’63. Looks like he’s still breathing.”

“I noticed Harley still has his own teeth.” A collective gasp of approval comes from the group. “Did you see Wanda’s fake hairpiece? Looks like a muskrat crawled onto her head and died.” We’re all suddenly back in high school.

Even if you hated school, you don’t want to miss the excitement and renewed camaraderie that could result from attending the reunion. Here are 5 reasons to go.

  1. It’s nice to see the popular people living ordinary lives. Now, the Student Body President runs a small eldercare facility, the Homecoming Queen works part-time in the Post Office, and the athletic star lives in a rehab center somewhere in the Midwest. The worthless class clown, however, flew to the reunion in a private jet.
  2. The 10th reunion is High School Part II. The same people still try to organize, direct, and cheer-lead the group. But by then, the others can drink alcohol so the orchestrated program is more tolerable.
  3. The 20th Reunion encourages interesting liaisons. For those still single, divorced, or looking, suddenly the frumpy girl from History 301 looks cute or the nerd from English Class learned how to dress without white socks. Sparks fly and couples are holding hands and promising to stay in touch. There’s only a 10 percent chance these flings will last after the sun rises the next morning.
  4. The 30th Reunion is why Spanx was invented. Middle-age classmates have lost hair and gained bellies. They pull out reading glasses and show photos of their children. Some have grandchildren. The party is over by 10:00 pm.
  5. The 40th Reunion brings the Memory Wall. Photos of smiling faces beam from a poster showing those who have died. It’s a stark reminder that we’re not invincible. The crowd that cheered together and stomped to the beat of “We are the Champions” is missing several members. We hug each other with intention and share photos of grandkids.

If you receive the invitation to our reunion, don’t automatically throw it into the trash. Consider a nostalgic visit back to a time and place that formed an important part of your life. You can attend for a few hours, if only to celebrate your current life without all the crap and drama from high school. It’s okay to rent a luxury sports car for the day.

 

To My Son as He Leaves for College

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adam elaine football hs

(For those with quiet empty nests, here’s a letter I wrote to my son years ago.)

What do you mean you mailed a college application? Get back down on the floor and play with some Legos. Do you want me to make you a sandwich? Or, you can invite your friends over and we’ll order pizzas. You can stay up all night, if you want. I’ll just go cry in my room, but don’t let that bother you.

Yes, I know I can be obnoxious about mothering you, but don’t leave yet. I’m not done. We need to work on laundry and managing money. And we should have the talk – you know, the discussion about sex, drugs, alcohol, and how the world is full of mean people who could hurt you. Oh, you say you can handle everything? Then tell me, son, how do I handle this anxiety? How do I stop this gut-churning ache when I realize my only son, my last child, is walking out the door and will return as a visitor? Give me some laughs for that fact, will you?

Okay, I’m sorry for that lapse in composure. I’m really happy for you. Really. I want you to march into college and own the place. Let them know you have arrived and you’re ready to pursue enlightenment and knowledge so you can get a great job and support me in my old age. Oops. There I go again. It’s not about me, is it? This is about you. I must focus.

Because I’m a single parent and the two of us have shared this house for several years, I want to give you my best parenting advice before you drive off to the university. So, here goes:

  1. Size matters. You already know this. Weighing in at 11 pounds, you were one of the biggest babies every born at the Gooding County Hospital. You were always the tallest, which made it easy to find you in a crowd of other children. You were sad at age 4 when He-Man underwear didn’t come in your size, and the teachers had to order an adult-sized desk for you in 5th You were 6’6” in high school, and you carried the load for others, as you continue to do today. Sometimes you didn’t like being so big, but many people, including me, see you now as a tall, strong, funny, handsome, and responsible hero. That’s a good thing.
  2. Keep your sense of humor. No one can make me laugh like you do. Your personality is beyond gregarious and that’s why others enjoy being around you. I’ve seen you cheer up a dejected classmate, counsel a young child, coach and encourage a YMCA team, and cause your grandmother to grin. (Dementia made her grin all the time, but you brought a special twinkle to her eyes.)
  3. Stay compassionate. As a two-year-old, you took care of other children at the child-care center. That special trait continued into your teenage years. Several others took advantage of you, and I know you used your wages to pay for a lot of meals, trips, and activities that other kids couldn’t afford. Keep that empathetic characteristic, but watch out for charlatans who will exploit your generosity. Learn from me.
  4. Treat women as wonderful, complicated creatures who can make your life a living hell or a heavenly sanctuary. You will live in a fraternity and there will be raucous parties with coeds. Have fun, but keep your head clear and your pants zipped. Other college men won’t heed that advice, and their new nickname will be “father” or “college drop-out.” The woman you choose to marry will be lucky, indeed. Remember to compliment her, support her dreams, and be delighted in your partnership with her as you build dreams together. Plan great adventures and expect a successful marriage. And, if she ever asks, “How do I look?” always respond, “Wow! You look amazing?” Trust me.
  5. Remember your roots. You were born into a family with a strong work ethic, a love of adventure, and an unwavering love for their children. I’m sorry your father and I lost the marriage, but we continued to make your sister and you our top priority. Take this experience to do better than we did.
  6. Get ready to fly. The next five years will be the most important years of your life. You will go to college, get a job, perhaps get married, and maybe you’ll have children. Life will never be the same again. Take this time to savor every drop of life you can. Meet new people, visit new destinations, make some mistakes, and recover with gusto. But, please, know that if you move far away I know how to make airplane reservations. I’d like a guest room with teal-colored paint on the walls, a coffee maker, and a wine bar.

I think that’s the essential tidbits for now. You’ve got a job so you know about money. As for laundry, just wear all dark clothes so you don’t need to separate the loads. But, always wash your towels at least weekly. I might need to throw a few wet towels on the floor after you’re gone just for the memories.

Go to college, son, and remember that life can’t be one big party unless someone pays the bills and provides the clean-up committee. Be the one in charge of your own celebration of young adulthood. I’ll miss you every day, but soon I can visit you on campus. I’ll bring your favorite cookies! And a pizza. It will be just like old times.

Most of all, I will miss your laugh, so please record it for me. Remember, your first laugh was with me when you were four months old. It could have been caused by gas bubbles, but oh my, how you could laugh! Please don’t ever stop. One more thing: I’ll leave the light on for you.

Love,

Mama (all alone in a big, quiet, empty house)

 

 

Speaking at the BAM Conference in Nashville

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BAM

BAM is happy to welcome Elaine Ambrose to our slate of speakers.

Elaine Ambrose is an author, syndicated blogger, and humorist from Eagle, Idaho. Her writing is featured on several sites including The Huffington Post, BlogHer, and Midlife Boulevard. Her latest book, Midlife Cabernet, won two national humor awards and Publishers Weekly wrote that the book is “laugh-out-loud funny.” Elaine wrote Menopause Sucks under contract with Adams Media and six other books under her own company, Mill Park Publishing. Elaine’s most dubious claim to fame is that her Huffington Post essay “Don’t Fart During an MRI” received more than 678,000 hits from around the world. Preview her books and blogs atwww.test.elaineambrose.com.

WHAT: The first blogging conference focused specifically on women bloggers in midlife.

WHEN: Beginning the afternoon of Friday, March 6, 2015 and continuing until the night of Saturday, March 7, 2015. Consider extending your stay through Sunday. We may have an additional Sunday opportunity for attendees!

WHERE: Gaylord Opryland Resort and Convention Center, 2800 Opryland Drive, Nashville,Tennessee. A special room rate has been arranged. Accommodations can be booked through a link received after ticket purchase. 

Register at http://bloggersatmidlife.com.

BAM is happy to welcome Elaine Ambrose to our slate of speakers.</p><br /> <p>Elaine Ambrose is an author, syndicated blogger, and humorist from Eagle, Idaho. Her writing is featured on several sites including The Huffington Post, BlogHer, and Midlife Boulevard. Her latest book, Midlife Cabernet, won two national humor awards and Publishers Weekly wrote that the book is “laugh-out-loud funny.” Elaine wrote Menopause Sucks under contract with Adams Media and six other books under her own company, Mill Park Publishing. Elaine’s most dubious claim to fame is that her Huffington Post essay “Don’t Fart During an MRI” received more than 678,000 hits from around the world. Preview her books and blogs at www.test.elaineambrose.com.

 

Loving Life at Age 20, 40, and 60

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cabin wine

My five boisterous, funny granddaughters recently came over to make candy trains, a Christmas tradition that I first shared with my children 32 years ago. After their mothers wrangled them together to go home, my 7-year-old granddaughter turned to me and said, “I love making candy trains. After you die, we’re going to keep on making them with our families.”

Talk about a buzz-kill for the holidays! The pure honesty of children can be brutal. I hadn’t thought about dying, but she did bring up an important part of life – it continues with or without us. After the kids and commotion were gone, I poured a glass of wine and sat to contemplate the stages of life.  For me so far, there are three favorite ages.

elaine age 18 u of I

The Tender Twenties

A popular website titled Addicted to Success [addicted2success.com] recently published an article about life lessons that people should know at age 20. The tips included advice on how to relax, suggestions for staying healthy, and a reminder that happiness comes from within. I don’t think these rules are just limited to age 20, but people need to start somewhere.

At 20, I was a junior in college majoring in journalism. My friends were getting married and moving into inexpensive apartments with donated futons, beanbag chairs, and bookshelves made from boards on cinder blocks. That didn’t appeal to me because I didn’t have a steady boyfriend and the world was wide open and waiting for my naive confidence and stubborn independence. After I graduated from college, I loaded all my possessions into my Pontiac Firebird and drove down the road, without a job or a care.

During my twenties, I worked for various companies, I met my future husband, and we had two children. I hurried into my thirties totally exhausted. I worked full-time, had two active kids, a busy marriage, and a home that sprouted clutter. Looking back, I wish I had worked part-time. Even though women at the time were told we could “have it all,” something had to give. My marriage didn’t survive.

elaine age 48 1999

The Fabulous Forties

A recent article in Psychology Today notes that middle-aged people often feel discontent and restless while needing to reassess life and its meaning. They are confronting important issues, including the inevitable physical changes in their bodies, a sense of mortality, and the upcoming empty nest as their children grow up and leave home. Marriages are tested as both partners experience various feelings and turmoil during this time of transition.

For me, age 40 was a time of renewed focus. My children were 10 and 13, so I didn’t have any more childcare issues. I quit my corporate job and became the associate editor of a regional magazine. I divorced and managed to pay the mortgage, fix leaking toilets, and attend the kid’s activities. One pivotal time came when water began pouring from the ceiling into the living room because the rain gutters were clogged. I stood outside on a ladder in the rain scooping out leaves until the gutters were free. I was cold and close to crying, but I finished the job. The experience was liberating.

elaine portrait look back

The Sassy Sixties

According to a recent TODAY survey of 1,500 adults, the 60s can be a positive time of life. Of the participants in the study in their 60s, 72 percent said they felt younger than their age. A majority of the respondents said their journey so far was better than they expected. The key factors to happiness after 60 include personal health and adequate finances. Throw in loving relationships with friends and/or partners and life can be rewarding and fulfilling. Careers are ending so there is more time to volunteer, travel, work on hobbies, and read books from start to finish.

Sometimes I marvel at how I got so old so fast, but really, it’s a wonderful time. My children are grown, married, working, and have delightful children of their own. I married a wonderful man, and we’re having the best time of our lives. We’re free to sleep naked with the bedroom door open, proving that simple pleasures can make life more interesting.

Studies indicate that people who live to age 60 have a likely chance of living until age 82. That gives me two more decades to focus on health, manage my finances, continue to laugh with my grandkids, and chase my husband around the house. I hope to tumble and fumble into my eighties with a sassy attitude of gratitude for an abundant life. And by then, my granddaughters can bring along their kids, and we’ll make some candy trains before I die.

 

Published Today on HuffPo and Midlife Boulevard

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Two of my essays were published today on two wonderful sites: Huffington Post and Midlife Boulevard:

 

The Day I Totally Nailed It

On Midlife Boulevard, I tell the true but agonizing tale of the time my toenails plopped into my soup at an exclusive private club.

toes in water

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/elaine-ambrose/candy-trains_b_6276154.html

 

On Huffington Post 50, I describe our 30-year-old family tradition of making candy trains.

candy trains e and a

Six Silly Thanksgiving Memories of Mom

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mom pumpkin

My mother died on November 1, so this is our first Thanksgiving without her. To make the occasion less painful, I’ve decided to think of funny things she used to do before dementia took her away. For space constraints, the long list has been pruned to only six memories.

  1. Turkey pudding. My mother overcooked the Thanksgiving turkey for two days. For some reason, she thought she was a pilgrim doing a slow-roast over a pit behind the covered wagon so she set the bird in the oven before midnight on low heat and basted it every hour. As a result, she was tired by dinner the next day and the turkey had lost all its shape as the butterball morphed into turkey pudding hanging off the carcass.
  2. Sinking the gravy boat. Because the turkey took all the space in the oven, she cooked the green bean casserole, the potatoes, the gravy, and the stuffing on the stove – all at the same time. She wrapped bread rolls in tin foil and stuffed them around the turkey until they hardened into crusty dough balls. When the gravy was thick enough to stand on its own without a pan, it was time to eat.
  3. Death by sugar. Mom thought there should be a dessert per person. If a dozen guests were coming for dinner, there would be at least four pies, four cakes, and four platters of fudge. Pants and belts were adjusted accordingly.
  4. Cutest cook ever. She required real whipped cream on the pies, so she would aggressively operate her trusty hand mixer like a frantic high-speed drill until the cream was two seconds shy of becoming real butter. She wore a festive, handmade apron over her best holiday sweatshirt, so she resembled a jolly, plump elf scurrying about the kitchen.
  5. Pilfering the pie. My mom loved my aunt’s sweet potato pie and assumed it was a healthy dish because it used a vegetable, despite the butter, brown sugar, pecans, and marshmallow sauce. She would sneak a bowl for herself and hide it behind the pickles in the back of the refrigerator. She later grinned with delight about her sneaky accomplishment.
  6. Her signature dishes. Like a dutiful drill sergeant, she organized the girls and women-folk to hand-wash all the dishes after the meal while the men meandered to the living room to pat their bellies and watch football. She took great pride in dividing leftovers into equal portions and filling Tupperware containers and Corningware dishes for guests to take home. To insure her items were identified and returned, she used fingernail polish to paint her initials on all the containers. I now have stacks of dishes sporting faded red initials “LA.”

This Thanksgiving, the family will come together to toast the holiday and give thanks for our abundant blessings. Some things will remain the same: commotion will come from the children’s table, the men will wrestle for the last turkey leg, and I will declare that red wine goes with turkey – and everything else. The most noticeable difference will be the empty chair at the table. Happy Thanksgiving, Mom. Maybe I’ll sneak a bowl of sweet potatoes for you. Thanks for the funny memories.