One broad's reluctant journey to the dark side of womanhood.

When a ‘slender’ tampon is meant as a compliment February 18, 2014

Filed under: Necessary evils — kerimenopause @ 1:10 pm
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“Are we the last normal, boring couple we know?”  my husband asks after I tell him about another one of our couple friends has hit marital rock bottom.  And when I say another, I mean there have been A LOT.   In the 20+ years we have been together, we’ve watched couple after couple break up, divorce, become roommates, and/or just disappear from our lives as ‘couple friends.’  This has become such a regular occurrence that we are reluctant to become friends with new couples lest we some how influence the end of their marriage.

Save yourself the time speculating that we influence their demise on some weird, kinky level.  This isn’t 1970 and we are not swingers.  We don’t make suggestive invitations to take our ‘friendship’ to some web-cam level relationship.  No, no.  Our big crime is that we are ridiculously happy with one another.  Not only does our kid have parents married to each other,  but he has parents who actually like each other.  On some level, we consider ourselves freaks.

The undeniable truth is this:  Everyone (read: women) loves my husband.  Could this be the reason couples disintegrate before our eyes?

You can ask any of my friends – male or female – about my husband and they will tell you he is ridiculously kind.  This is the guy who will wait on you hand and foot if you visit our home.  He asks every woman he meets a million questions and makes them feel like, well, a million.  And that, my friends, is why I think so many couples we know end up splitting.  It’s my husband’s fault.  After an afternoon with us, women go home and start thinking ‘why can’t my husband be like that.’  In fact, I had a friend tell me once that, “He is the best husband I’ve ever met.  You better take a lot better care of him.”  Was that some kind of threat?  Or what? You’re going to take my man?  Please, whatever I am doing, or not doing, he’s been around for two decades so I think I got this.  Incidentally, it is so weird to get marital advice from a person whose marriage is imploding.

And since I’m already off the subject traveling down a side road, maybe I should just air the dirty laundry about what a rotten person he truly is at home.  Here it is, the ‘worst’ I can come up with.  My husband is a guy

~who begrudgingly agrees to pick up tampons at the store for me.  Then brings home ‘slender’ because he thinks it is a compliment.

~who helps me get ready for a party of 50 (his family) by cleaning the gutters.

~who hears me complain about my weight daily and then offers me Wavy Lays potato chips when I say I’m hungry.

~who wonders out loud, as I walk out the door, if the price sticker or, worse, size sticker on my new jeans should still be on them.

Are there things about him that drive me bananas?  Of course!  My step-daughter asked me one time if there were things about him that drive me crazy and if I ever tell him.  My answer: Yes and No.  Sure he can get on my nerves.  But my theory is this:  If I point out all the little things that bug me, than I am giving him permission to tell me all the things that bug him about me.  And I do not want to open that floodgate!

Truth is, I think there are so many unhappy women out there that I could bottle up my husband and sell him out of the back of my car  like a modern-day Snake Oil Salesman. I’d call it ‘Hubby Hooch.’   I would bedazzle a former food truck.  Hit the road.  Sit in the parking lots of places that hold all those mom’s meetings… after PTA meetings… at soccer fields.  From the loud speaker I could announce: ‘Ladies and women… step right up.  Get your self-sacrificing-loves-your-thighs-no-matter-what-size-they-are-tells-you-you’re-beautiful-every-day-man-right-here-in-a-bottle.’  All the while, Justin Timberlake’s Sexy Back will be pounding in the back ground…

I’m bringing sexy back
Them other @$%! don’t know how to act
Come let me make up for the things you lack
‘Cause you’re burning up I gotta get it fast

So, are you asking yourself ‘What is the point of this blathering?’  It’s pretty deep and philosophical actually.  I suggest to you today that maybe the secret to marriage is simply saying ‘thank you’ for the slender tampon and realizing sometimes a man’s actions are the words you aren’t hearing.


Crap, now I have to do it for the kid June 14, 2013

Filed under: Uncategorized — kerimenopause @ 1:28 pm
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I’ve talked about this before so it is no secret  that I have been on every diet ever conceived or written about. I am a lover of before and after pictures.  Ironically, I actually have had a great deal of success on many diets.  I just haven’t had long-term success.  And here’s why:

I am excited to start.  I plan and figure and calculate.  I pinpoint important dates and project where I will be on that date if I continue my program.  I always lose 10-12 lbs.  The clothes start to fit better.  My husband notices.  I feel sexier. He benefits. I buy cuter clothes.  Then the drudgery of the daily dealings of portion control, working out, etc. start to take a toll.  And then it happens, and almost always the same way, just a handful of Wavy Lays… how can it hurt?  Next… the mind games: “Only the folded over curved Wavy Lays” (you’d be surprised how many are in a bag).  Then, it’s the self-talk: “Oh, who cares I look fine the way I am.”  And, well, you can guess the rest… out come the fat clothes from the back of the closet again.  It is a little known fact that chronic dieters never, ever give away the fat clothes… just in case.

Here I am again embarking on another get fit/get slim adventure.  But this time it is different. This time it isn’t just about me.  This time I have to be successful because my son is watching.  Recently, he has started to make comments that he is fat.  Sadly, he has realized that maybe he inherited more of his mom’s genes than his skinny dad’s and he’s going to have to work on NOT getting fat.  I recognize that belly of his and I don’t want him to live the same cycle as I have.  And, I don’t want to be my mother (God love her) to him.  I’ve never known my mom to NOT be on a diet.  The size of my waist, thighs, ass are of constant concern to her, which she is none to quick to comment upon – as she does with my three sisters.

It occurred to me today that perhaps mom views my full-figure status as a failure of hers rather than my weak-willed, potato-loving self.  Had she taught me more about nutrition and less about dieting, would I be in this fix now?  I don’t know and it’s too late to blame it on mom.  Just as it is too late to all it baby fat – considering my ‘baby’ is 14.

Here’s what I do know:  I don’t want my son to spend his life basing his self-worth on his belly size.  So today we embark on a new venture… one where my success with be judged by how my son’s self-image is formed. Time to be a healthy inspiration to the kid.  If that isn’t motivation… I don’t know what is.



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