I’m not ready for Depends…yet.

It seems my cookies have betrayed me. 

No, not Chips Ahoy cookies.  It’s those dang cookies within our computers that make note of everything we search  online. 

They have divulged the fact I, Kim York,  am 50 years old to the entire internet world. 

Now, when I open my email, not only do I have emails from companies who cater to people 50 years and older, but all of the advertisements surrounding my email inbox are also for products for people 50+.  UGH!

It’s as if, you turn 50, and you no longer buy any of the products you purchased when you were 49.  I do not need Depends undergarments, yet!  I can still wear my thongs as long as I choose.  Ok, I may not wear thongs, but I could if I wanted too!

And, reverse mortgages…really?  I am still working hard every day and I will have my mortgage paid off well before I retire.  Oh, and that’s another thing…AARP!  It’s like they stalk you when you turn 50.  AARP has life, auto, home and travel benefits.  I know because I receive mail from them every single day.  I am sure the postal service will never go out of business as long as AARP is mailing out information.

Then there is life insurance…yes, we must not leave our families in a situation where they would have to pay for our burial.  And, it is detrimental that I buy more now because the end is near.  It’s like a preacher staring you right in the eye stressing the possibility of eternal damnation, hell fire and brimstone if you do not have hundreds of thousands of dollars to leave behind.  I just want to be cremated, or possibly have my body donated to science. 

Turning 50 also means we must be in need of hearing devices.  “Hear what you have been missing.”  That is what all of the advertisements say.  Maybe I don’t want to hear what others have to say?  Maybe I would just assume be left alone!  Take for instance listening to the news, it is so depressing!  It’s never good.  Never.  It’s always bad.  Always. 

The most ironic part of the advertisements are the celebrities who advertise them.  Really, Lisa Rinna in her red carpet dress wearing Depends Undergarments??  Really?  Oh my goodness, if Lisa wears them, I have got to have them!  They will look great under my skinny jeans! 

But, I guess the most embarrassing advertisements are those for products like Viagra or Cialis.  They actually use older people for these commercials, but they always make the situations just a little creepy.  How often do you see two people in bathtubs at the ocean?  And really…they are in separate bathtubs? They need a better understanding of how things work before they take any medication, period!  Just creepy!

As much as I love cookies, my internet cookies have got to go! 
Bring on the Chips Ahoy!

May your hot flashes be mild and your wrinkles even milder.
Kim York

Loading in for the Snow: Snowpocalypse Edition

Biscuits.

If you're from the South you know that when snow is coming you load in biscuits.

My Super Kroger on Sunday was literally out of biscuits.
The whole freezer case was empty. 

I suppose to the purist there were the makings of biscuits in the baking aisle but who has the time?

And the reason I am writing this post is that I am curious about the things people grab on their way home when they feel like they are going to be trapped by snow.

I suppose that my Mamaw made biscuits for breakfast every morning. My Mom did not. I certainly don't. I provide Cliffs Bars or Pop Tarts. That's on a good day. On a bad day it's "here's a dollar for sausage pancake on a stick at school" and "there's half a bottle of water in the back of the car, oh wait, maybe Mountain Dew..."   

What about snow makes people biscuit crazy?

If I had to pick a breakfast bread to be trapped with on a snow day, I'd go for cinnamon rolls or a nice blueberry scone.
Are people, especially Moms, giving into peer pressure to appear more responsible?

Are they worried someon in the check out aisle will spy their cart in th check out aisle....we all know we judge....and think "cinnamon rolls, scones....where are the biscuits? What kind of mother doesn't get snow biscuits?"

The run on milk is equally weird to me. Are people suddenly jonesing for milk? We made snow cream when I was little and I loved it but a gallon of milk would make, what, 5 gallons of snow cream? 

Does falling snow raise the need for calcium in your blood?

I'll admit I am generally ill prepared to survive lengthy entrapment in my house.
If I honestly made a list of things I really need to survive it would be say cheese, pasta, sauce, pizza, cheese, almond milk and cheese. And the number for Chinese delivery .

That covers the basics. 

I suppose as a Menopausal Moms would add wine and chocolate. 

Really, check out judgement aside, what do you load in for a Snow Day?

And today's shout out goes to our readers in Malta. Or maybe reader. Either way MALTA!

Ok, now I believe you. There's a stretch when you won't recognize your teen.

There are certain things that we Moms, menopausal or not, simply don't share willingly with each other. Did someone, anyone, come to you when you were pregnant and tell you that your feet would never been the same size again? Did your best friend or sister let you know that the shoes in your closet would forever be a reminder of your pre-pregnancy glass slipper size as your newly evil step-sister sized feet will never again squeeze into.
No.
No one tells you.
I've never told anyone.
I don't have the heart. The baby-making mammas are so excited. I can't stand to point out any of  the downside.
They'll find out soon enough.
 Giant feet. Raw nipples. Lack-of-sleep psychosis. They'll find out.
Along the same vein, no one tells you while you are growing a human that someday that interloper will think you are an idiot and actively show their disdain for you. Eyes will roll so far back into their head you aren't sure they will ever unroll. This may be because you suggest, perhaps, wearing a coat to a high school football game because with the windchill factor of -15 degrees.
Apparently it is a part of the developmental process. The paperwork given to me by my mental health counselor -- if  you don't have one you should totally get one -- shows that it is a child's job to separate from their parents. My personal experience is that it is especially painful or dramatic between mothers and daughters and compounded exponentially between Menopausal Moms and hormonal teen.
No one told me.
Ok, that is not true. A couple of people told me and I didn't believe them. One of the them was the sweetest, kindest, most Christian woman I know. She swore her daughters were terrible as teens. She didn't recognized them. The got better when they were young adults. I didn't believe her. Her family was so adorable it couldn't be true. They looked like the families that come in pictures frames when
you buy them at fancy stores.
My fellow Menopausal Mom, Kim, told me of the Dark Times with her now grown, and awesome, children. She also said it will fade and my girl will come back to me.
I'm not sure I believed that either.
So, I have been taking two informal polls in the last few weeks. One is of mothers whose daughter's recently travailed adolescence. I don't even have to really know you. I just have to know you have a young adult child. I just say something like: My daughter and I are at that stage where she acts like she hates me.
They nod and look sympathetic.
The other is among any unfortunate young woman who I encounter between the ages of 20 and 35. Did you hate your mother at 15? I ask. They all say yes.
What about now?
Generally, it's something like "Oh, I totally love her, I talk to her every day. She's in Bolivia and we FaceTime every night."
So I take some solace.
This being the holiday season every sitcom I watched this week seemed to have an over reaching mother shaming, begging, manipulating their children to spend time with them And, sitcoms being what they may, in each instance the child, often grudgingly but most genuinely as a sitcom can manage will see -- gosh darn it-- I love my Mom too much not to spend an evening
around the Christmas tree with her if that's her hearts desire.
Oh, if life were wrapped up like a sitcom.
But I realize I have to adjust my thinking. This developmental stage isn't personal.
When my girl was a baby and she cried I didn't think "that cry is a indictment of my skills as a
mother". No, I tried to help her. I tried to figure it out. I put myself second and worked for the better of both of us. And that's what I need to do now.
I never thought of myself as one of those moms who saw herself first as her kid's friend. But maybe it slipped that way. Maybe I thought I was protecting her by letting of some things I need her to do ...like chores or listening or being respectful because overall she is a great kid.
But, apparently, according to my mental health professional, she needs something to push against.
That is me.
So here is my job. She pushes, I stay firm. She hurts me and I let it go.
I set a rule and I stick to it.
It is a little trickier because part of this for me is saying no, setting boundaries and making her accountable so she can be an accountable adult. I was really good at setting boundaries for her when she was little. Even when she would push. Because I could see it clearly. Don't touch the stove you will get burned. No matter how much you want to touch the stove the answer is still no.
And now it is the same. The lines are just more involved. But I will figure it out although I could use some suggestions.
And I know, and I should have known all along, we are family and we will work it out. It might be a couple of years, apparently, but it will work out.
Polls don't lie.

Turning 50 is like attending a funeral…

Have you ever attended a funeral…walked up to the casket…only to hear someone say, "Don't she look good?" 

Really??  Have you ever seen a dead person look good?

And, what is the deal with all of the flowers?  The person is dead!

Typically, funerals are sad events, but many times families host "Celebrations of Life" to honor the dead and remember the great aspects of that person's life.

All of this is quite similar to what happens when someone turns 50 years old!  On Sunday, December 14th, 2014, I turned FIFTY!  I woke up that morning and thought to myself, "I cannot believe I am 50 years old!  …I am so old!!!" I was actually depressed!

Other people know you are old too!  On my birthday, people felt compelled to tell me how good I looked to be FIFTY years old!  And, they sent me flowers!  Don't get me wrong, I have enjoyed them immensely!  But, my house began to smell like a funeral parlor…ironically!

And, yes, the day was definitely a celebration of life...what little I seemed to have left.  It was filled with wonderful birthday greetings and Facebook posts that were so sweet and nice…as you would expect epitaphs to be. 

Here is my top ten list of things said to me when I turned FIFTY:

Number 10:  Fifty is the new 40!
Number 9:   You look really good to be 50.
Number 8:   You are just getting warmed up!
Number 7:   You could actually say it is the 20^th anniversary of your 30^th birthday!
Number 6:   You are a HALF-CENTURY old. Wow!
Number 5:   The older you get, the wiser you get.  You must be a genius!
Number 4:   Welcome to the club!
Number 3:   My age was compared to a dog playing dead.  (This one came with a video.)
https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=10205649993832046&set=vb.1320168050&type=3&theater

Number 2:   Are you able to get a senior discount now?
Number 1:    Rudolph is celebrating his 50^th anniversary too.

All in all, my birthday was amazing!  My students threw me my first ever surprise birthday party.  

I attended the “The Nutcracker” ballet in Louisville with my husband, son and fellow Menopausal Mom, Mary. 

We ate at an amazing restaurant called, “The Rudyard Kipling.” (I HIGHLY recommend this place.  The food was amazing, and there was live music!) 

And, I only suffered one hot flash during the ballet. (I think the snow tricked my mind into thinking it was really cold!)  This was without a doubt, the best birthday celebration ever! 

The ironic piece here is that I had never had a birthday party or celebration to this point.  So, getting old does have its benefits; people feel sorry for you, and in turn, do super nice things for you!  It’s a good sort of sympathy!  I’ll take it! 

Kim York
"May your hot flashes be mild and your wrinkles even milder!"

https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=10205649993832046&set=vb.1320168050&type=3&theater

It's Time to Find Myself

An empty nest is not always a bad thing.  I do miss my children, but somewhere along the way in my roles of wife, mother and college student, I lost my identity.

Where did Kim, the painter, go?  Where did Kim, the singer, go? 

I knew she was in me somewhere, and today, Thanksgiving Day 2014, from the peacefulness of our cabin in the woods, I decided it was time to let her out.  Why today, you might ask?  I will tell you! 

My children are all grown and two of them have families of their own now.  And, I know the importance of building your own family traditions, especially when your family is young.  So, I never put pressure on them to come “home” on the holidays… because they are busy building homes of their own.  And, as a parent, that is what you want for them. 

As much as I want my children to see me as the center of their universe, I know that is not the case.  Right?  Yes, I know that is right.  So, I will make myself the center of my own universe.  I can do that.  Right?  Of course I am right!

For the first time ever, except for a small hamburger lunch for my husband and I, I wasn’t cooking on Thanksgiving.  I actually got to watch the Macy’s Parade.  Has it always been a big commercial for NBC television shows and Broadway plays?  I wouldn’t know because typically I am basting a turkey.  As much as it seemed like a big commercial, the parade was great.  Although, I do think there was a lot of lip-syncing.  I digress. 

After the NBC Parade, oops, I mean the Macy’s Parade, I decided to relax in my Jacuzzi.  I lit a “Mistletoe” Yankee Candle, turned Pandora holiday music on my laptop, added some great bath oil, my sweet Ashley bought me for Christmas two years ago, slipped into the tub and turned on the jets.  THEN, I jumped right back out.

It had been so long since I had taken time to slip into the Jacuzzi, that the jets had gotten a bit, shall we say, “dingy.”  And, the dinginess made it’s way into my bath. (This is also why I had not used the bath oil.)  

So, my husband and I took the time to clean the jets, and it is ready for another attempt tonight.  I can assure you, the dinginess will never happen again.  I will take time to smell the bath oil!

Tomorrow I plan to paint.  Hopefully my brushes haven’t rotted, but if so…I will buy more.  Kim is ready to appear and put her talents to work.  And, that is my goal as my 50^th birthday quickly approaches…to let Kim shine!

Do you have an empty nest?  If so, has it changed your life?

May your hot flashes be mild and your wrinkles even milder.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Kim