It might be spring, and you might need a bath.
And you might even think you’re alone.
But you’d be wrong. And at our house, . . .
you have no right to privacy.
So if you have a certain, funny feeling, you’re probably right.
You are being watched.
Happy Spring Break to all you little birdies out there!
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Posted in animals, Bainbridge Island, WA, life is good, outside
[Okay, I'm 29, not really, 39 43 and not waaaaaay into my 40's, so I may need to amend this list in a few years to add more data for you young'uns.]
This is my Public Service Announcement for women out there younger than I am.
See, I give back but no, you can’t have my old tea kettle. I might possibly need it.
Without further ramblings ado, I present to you, My 7 Things They Don’t Tell You About Being a Woman in Her 40′s, a.k.a, Cougars Still Get Hangnails:
1. Your libido went to Fiji without you. Sure, you were lusty in your 30′s, just like they said you would be, but if, like me, you married in the middle of that decade, things change. I mean, honey, if you offer me Super Fudge Chunk ice cream every night, even I’m going to be not so interested anymore. Maybe if I had to hunt for that dessert pint in bars, office parties and churches, then….
Corollary: you want your husband to go to Fiji, too, and leave you, in the words of Nancy Wilson, another old broad, A-LONE.
2. You may want to “friend” Clairol a little sooner than planned. I realize now (yes, now that my totally gray head stares me in the face in a menacing, no-way-out way) that hair coloring is a little like miscarriage among the female community she did not just say that, oh, but she did: it’s happening all the time, all around us, but no one is discussing it. Granted, miscarriage is a terrible, terrible loss to experience, I know first hand, but for some, the thought of letting their gray hair grow out is possibly more traumatic since it’s SO VISIBLE, like, to the Calvin Klein underwear boys you may meet world.
With my gray hair getting even longer, I now get “Oh, I’d stop coloring my hair, if it’d grow out like yours… To which, I cough out “A-*bullshit*-hem!”
3. Regardless of color, your thickest, most lush hair will be in your nose. Or, possibly, the bathroom drain.
Or, if you’re lucky to have a great spouse like mine to point out such things, both.
4. Your eggs joined a nunnery 8 years ago, and any of them left fraternizing with cute, horndog spermy guys are not exactly “upstanding community members.” Really, thanks so much, Mr. Dr. Gyno, for never annually warning me of my ovarian expiration date and always not discussing how a hearty sneeze or a toilet seat or both at once! could impregnate a girl.
But I’m not bitter. Bitterness totally is is not part of this list.
5. You might be able jog, if you haven’t yet blown out your knee, but “ripple effect” will have new meaning. Let’s just say, there’s a reason, thank the Lord, full-length mirrors are stuck on walls and doors on the INSIDE of homes. Moving on…
6. Your period goes to one of two extremes, the house guest who’ll never leave and blares Wildfire at 2am, or a tiny, timid mouse who surprises you each month by still coming around for a small slice of munster. I can’t really elaborate much more on that without expanding beyond the “family blog” category that the Hubs likes to imagine declares this blog fits.
Still, I’m not bitter.
7. You may start blogging. Over and over again. Hey, you’ve been warned.
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You’ll be glad to know the Let the Dog in! family dashed to the beach this past weekend, and we got the pictures to prove it! And we had the “that’s boring!” grumblings of a 6 year old ahead of time, but that’s beside the point.
Who was happiest about this outing?
Her:
She was really diggin it…
This one photo explains our whole backyard in case your child falls in a hole and disappears while playing here you’re wondering.
No stick too small or too big.
Or too inedible.
She also got wet…
and did the “Shake”…
and she did it again…
This is one cracks me up. Look at the force going there.
Just imagine if your entire beauty regime consisted of doing the “Shake.”
Think of the time, money and Q-tips saved. And certainly, hair control would no longer be an issue.
I’m gonna start practicing.
Although I may have to use that saved money for a chiropractor…
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Posted in animals, Bainbridge Island, WA, life is good, outside, regional
I have to give a Holla! to Mo’Nique. Yay, Mo’Nique!
Not because she gave an amazing performance in Precious which I have not seen yet but heard it’s great and it’s in my queue. Not because she won an Oscar on Sunday. Not because she’s inspired me to change my name to Wen’Dy. Not even because she told Barbara Walters about her open marriage which I could never handle without turning into a crazy-eyed, sleepless stalking beeyach.
No, it’s much simpler. It’s this:
Leg hair.
I know, men, you no likey. Well, as the hubs’ aunt says, “toughsky shitsky.”
What we women don’t say (although we may blog about and post photos of it…) is that shaving your legs is a pain, and in winter, especially, maybe we want a little more warmth, right where all that cold air comes up.
Particularly when you’re so fashionable with the bootcut pants that act like a wind tunnel in a winter storm.
Guys, if you really don’t like the hair, my advice to you is to get her some soft, fuzzy, KNEE socks. According to one study, it improves chances of orgasms, so everyone will be happier.
Besides, the older I get, the prouder I am that hair is growing nicely somewhere on my body, rather than thinning, graying, falling out and/or never returning.
Raise your hand if you’re with me on the hair! Oh, pit hair, too, I see!
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Posted in aging, brilliant ideas, growth, health
We had a wee party, for a few small guests. A little laughter was shared and few happy grins.
Sure, they left a trail of glitter and itty bitty beads, but they otherwise acted sweet.
[And, no, I did not help the kid make these. We paid a local professional to show her. My craftiness does not extend this direction...]
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Have I mentioned my other job? I took it because this job, writing here at Let the dog in! has turned out to be so incredibly lucrative that I thought, hey, why not take on another job like that? Then I could make double the dough!
Which turns out to be double of ZERO. Hey, lawyers are not known for their math skills…
Nonetheless, I’m writing with a fab group of women called The Mom Squad over at the Kitsap Sun newspaper’s website. Wonder how long it will be before kids won’t know what “newspaper” mean? Or even “paper?”
But that’s beside the point. The point is that you should be nice and supportive and go read about the humongous 37th annual bike ride called the Chilly Hilly (no, that’s not your bitter ex-girlfriend) that happened here this past weekend.
And even comment if you have second. You know, something like, “Wendy, this is awesome!” “Wendy, you’re the best!” or even “Wendy, when’s your book coming out so I can pre-order 20,000 copies for the orphans!”
So, thank you, in advance, you, wonderful, you.
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