Category: Midlife Crisis

Scrapbooking

by Karen, posted in (it's all about the) food, Midlife Crisis, Turning 50

I got an email to attend a Scrapbooking Weekend, and even though I’m a novice scrapbooker, I didn’t want to pass up an opportunity to spend a full day with a friend, so I was so happy when I was able to arrange it so that I could attend one of the sessions.

I started thinking about what I would do during my scrapbooking time. I had an idea to set up a scrapbook entitled:  My Fiftieth Year. Kick it off with birthday month and then make a 2 page spread for each month (if there are that many in the book?) and record how I spend the year (so I start off ahead instead of behind!).

I was inspired by two things:

  1. My local library’s recent workshop that I attended to create a vision board.
  2. Meg’s scrapbook pages she calls  Project Life  on her “Our Misadventures” blog. Hmmm…maybe I should call mine Project MidLife? 🙂

I’m on the fence now about whether I should do “2012” and have it span January through December, or start in in May and have it span May 2012 to April 2013. I am also wondering about whether I should have themes that correspond with the month (for example, Christmas for December) or themes corresponding to my interests (food! writing! books!)…maybe, somehow, both?

What do you think?

Losing my mind

by Karen, posted in Midlife Crisis, my one word

Here is just a small sampling of the fruits of my distraction over the past couple of weeks.

  1. Went to my hair appointment, got out of the car, looked for my pocketbook, realized I’d left it at home. I could clearly see it in my mind’s eye hanging over the back of the kitchen chair. I was sure I’d taken it off the chair and brought it with me to the car. I had not.
  2. Got up early, got dressed in my gym clothes, got to Planet Fitness, got out of the car…and realized that I was wearing my winter boots and had not brought my sneakers. Fail.
  3. Ran the dryer for 45 minutes, went to remove the clothes, and discovered that they weren’t in there. I’d never taken them out of the washer and put them in the dryer in the first place. Even though (once again) I clearly remember doing so.
  4. Told my daughter, “Go get the rest of the bags out of the trash,” after I returned from food shopping. Oh, didn’t I say “trunk”? I was sure I’d said “trunk”…

And these are just the things that I remember. Needless to say, I’m not making great progress with “my one word” for 2012.

Scary.

Pajama Day!

by Karen, posted in books, health, Midlife Crisis, movies, my one word, no fear

I recently read a magazine article about Valerie Bertinelli  ( Woman’s Day, I think; she was on the cover, if that helps) in which she describes a day that she spent in bed. Her husband was away travelling (I think), and of course she’s had an empty nest now for years, so there weren’t too many arrangements for her to make in advance. She gets a stack of magazines, books she has been wanting to read, movies she’s been wanting to see…then takes to her bed, staying in her jammies (duh) and even brings any meals right there to the bed for consumption.
I immediately started wondering how the heck to arrange a Pajama Day for me.

I found a day in March that looks promising.

“Now,  if there were only closer opportunity for a mental health–I mean, pajama–day!” Then a funny thing happened…I got sick.

My stack of magazines is already assembled. My stack of books is already next to the bed (and the couch, and my desk) and currently I have not one, but two books that I am actively reading and loving. My movie list is already compiled on Netflix (not to mention my DVR queue that at this point is looking longer than my life). In fact, a movie that I have been dying to see for weeks had just (finally! finally!) arrived from Netflix and was there waiting for me.

I never get sick. Here was my perfect opportunity to take a pajama day, handed to me on a silver platter, and what did I do?

I went to work.

Stupid.

It’s hard to not be afraid to just focus on oneself.

Oh, I did use the fact that I was sick as a ‘get out of (going to the) gym free’ card. Just sayin’…

Marital strife and strength

by Karen, posted in books, Midlife Crisis, relationships

One of the things that my husband always says after an argument is “I don’t feel connected”. It’s true; there is a disconnect that occurs not just during, but also after any, um,  heated disagreements, and it can take a while to get back to that feel-good  place of harmony in the aftermath. Sometimes it can just take a few moments to get this back; other times, well, it can take days.  😦  This is the strife.

It’s worth putting all else aside to focus on getting that connection back up and running, however. Whether your connection has been forged over two months or twenty years, it’s worth protecting from harm.

Yes, I’m telling you that I believe that it’s true: we are tethered to our mates.

And I don’t mean just legally.  I’m actually starting to think that it might be a spiritual sort of energy thread that connects us to each other (and not in ball-and-chain fashion, either; I think that phrase may have been coined status post knock-down-drag-out, if you know what I mean).

In the book Blissology: The Art & Science of Happiness the author  Andy Baggott talks about this connection in relation to happiness.

He asserts that:

“Unhappiness has no source except within ourselves and is nothing more or less than a disconnection (italics mine) from happiness–” (p. 18)…or, you and your spouse from each other, I think.

He goes on to say:

“We are eternal beings of pure positive energy, and the only reason we don’t feel that way is because we have become disconnected.”

So, it’s our work, then, to regain that connection when it has been broken, that feeling that you are in this together. Talking can help (note: sometimes talking makes it worse; if it does, then stop!). Humor can help. Taking a walk, together or apart and then regrouping, can help, as well as any physical activity…(yep, I’m talkin’ sex here).

Working together (even when you don’t like each other very much) to regain your connection can be hard, but it’s certainly doable. 🙂 This is the strength.

So, in the eternal words of The Stereo MC’s:

“Somethin’ ain’t right
Gonna get myself, I’m gonna get myself
Gonna get myself connected.”

🙂

How do you regain your connection to your significant other after an argument?

Distracted

by Karen, posted in Midlife Crisis

Almost every day, when I go to check my watch to see what time it is, I see that I’ve put it on backwards. Day after day…after day. What’s up with that? Even after I noticed that I was doing it, I’m still doing it.

Like today, for example.

I thought it might be sort of symbolic for “You don’t have enough time,” or “Slow down”. I mentioned it to my husband, and he (ever blunt) said, “It’s because you’re so distracted. You’re all over the place. Focus on one thing.” Doesn’t focusing on just one thing at a time seem like such a time waster? I used to knit while watching TV shows that I’d taped while baking bread and have a magazine open in my lap. I’d congratulate myself on how much I was accomplishing.

Then I read a magazine article (sorry, can’t remember when or how or which one…do you think it’s because of the TV watching/knitting/baking that I also had going on?) that said, “research has shown” that you actually are less productive when you carry on like that. In the long run, you end up burning out, getting sick, retaining nothing (of what you read or watched), making more mistakes that lead to you having to re-do or start over (can you say “dropped a stitch??) or whatever.

It seems counter-intuitive to me, but you get more done if you just focus on one thing at a time and do it.

Maybe I should start with putting on my watch correctly?

Locks of Love

by Karen, posted in family, friends, Midlife Crisis, no fear

Every three years or so I donate my hair to Locks of Love , and my daughter Isabelle has donated once as well. This entails the relinquishing of at least 10 inches of hair, more if the ends are kind of thin, which they usually are by the time hair gets to that length.

This time around the total cut off was 13 inches.

I had already committed to doing it, but for a split second I almost back pedaled. Then I remembered the past several months of prepping my family (not to mention myself) that had preceded this day, and sucked it up.

The hair was measured, braided, banded, and…extracted. The most difficult part, I think, is how light-headed I feel right after it’s cut. This feeling usually dissipates fairly quickly, as long as I’m careful not to turn my head too quickly…kidding!

The next most difficult part is that at the current length, my hair is too short to pull it back into a ponytail or a braid, and my daughter is torturing me to take out the clip that I have perched on the top of my head to keep my hair out of my face while I’m cooking, reading, or whatever.

“It looks stupid!” she proclaimed, grabbing for the clip as we were leaving to make a library run.

Oh. I thought it looked cute. “Leave it alone!” I snapped back. “Let’s go! I want to get there before they close.”

I left it in. Until I got to the car. Then I took it out. What if she was right and I was wrong?  I wasn’t willing to risk it.

One of those women

by Karen, posted in friends, Midlife Crisis, no fear

I realized today, as I peered at myself in the bathroom mirror, deciding whether to eat breakfast first or shower first…that the roots of my hair were looking kind of gray and dark. Then I had my second realization: I’d become one of those women.

You know, one of those women who dyed their hair, only worse. I’d joined that club about two (OMG! I think it was two!) years ago when I gave in to public opinion and dyed my hair for the first time. How did I make it to my late forties without ever dying my hair, ever? Not even highlights.

Well, I had some bad encounters with some perms over the years…’nuf said.

When I finally decided to dye it, it was just to try to cover most of the gray (that truthfully, I really didn’t even see. It was mostly on top of my head, so I had to tip my head and look down to see any gray, which I rarely did). I didn’t want to change the color one iota. In fact, I didn’t want anyone to know I’d done it at all…can you say, “Subtle”? That was my goal.

The wonderful woman that agreed to take me on was very brave. I have to give Deb tons of credit (and Susan tons of thanks, for introducing us). She listened to me tell her how much I didn’t want to do what I was about to hire her to do. She patiently listened to me debating the choices (permanent? semi-permanent?) and to me imploring her over and over to make sure that it would match my normal color so that no one would notice it was dyed. She did this. She pulled it off.

Anyway, once I started dying it, I got into a routine. A routine that I didn’t think too much about over the past two years (maybe three?). . . until this morning. When I realized I’d become one of those women.

One of those women who didn’t know what color her hair actually is anymore.

I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

The Clutter of Days

by Karen, posted in (it's all about the) food, health, Karen's Kitchen, Midlife Crisis, my one word, Pantry Project

I’m reminded, as the new year looms, that I haven’t done an update about My One Word in a few months. You remember… my New Year’s Resolution? Redolent in its simplicity… the purity of one word (“Edit”) that morphed into the clutter of two words (I added “Focus” one month in to make my resolution double in size).

I have been focusing and editing. My bookcase is still looking pretty good. For the most part, when I’ve gotten a new book I’ve removed one (or more) from the shelves to make room (or to compensate…). I’ve done a pretty good job of making meals using what we have already in the pantry or the freezer (although I think my husband would not agree with me on this).

I remember when I was a teenager and in my twenties, I went out of my way to fill my days…every minute of my days…with work or school or time out with friends. I never had a day off. Never. I worked 6 or 7 days per week, sometimes double shifts, and went to school full-time. I wanted it that way. I was happy to have every minute programmed in.

Now, in (okay, at the end of) my forties, I am completely the opposite. I want to have all of my time unscheduled, unplanned. I am thrilled when I can arrange for a day to be completely empty, versus completely filled.

Not that it stays empty and uncluttered, usually, but knowing that there is no where I have to go and no one expecting me to do something or be somewhere at a certain time is a wonderful feeling.

Those days are few and far between.

WHAT is THAT?

by Karen, posted in (it's all about the) food, family, Midlife Crisis, no fear

My husband usually calls to chat when he’s commuting from work. “Remind me when I get home; I have something for you,” he said. I wondered what it might be. He often brings home little surprises. Sometimes it’s a pastry of some sort, or a plant, or a book that he thinks that I might like.

Not this time. This time, my husband brought these home from work.  They were on the kitchen island in a small plastic baggie.

I looked at them through the baggie. I (cautiously! oh so cautiously!) eased them out of the baggie. I laid them out on the island.My husband stood just off to the side, watching, amused.

“So, what the heck are they?” I finally asked him.

“Guess,” he said.

My first thought was this: “Brian Dennehy called; he wants his pods back.”

🙂

He didn’t laugh. He really doesn’t get my jokes.

“Are they an insect of some sort?” I wondered, distracted by the little black “legs” protruding from the surface. “Nope,” he replied.

“Give me a hint, at least,” I begged.

“Well, it’s a fruit,” he said,  unhelpfully.

A fruit? Really? Really? I considered this.

A very hairy, masculine strawberry? On testosterone, maybe.

After a while, I gave up, but he still didn’t divulge the fruit’s identity. He cut it open, removed the center (after which I was leaning back toward my pod theory) which turned out to be a smooth white spongy oval that resembled a small hard-boiled egg, except that there was a pit where the yolk should be.

It tasted like a grape. This, actually, was not useful in helping me to identify the fruit.

Turns out, it’s a Rambutan. So I tried it, which enables me to proclaim that at the age of 49, I got to try a fruit that I’d never had before…and may I just say, “Eeew.”

It is experience that I’m not in planning to repeat.

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Time is on my side

by Karen, posted in (it's all about the) food, family, friends, local fun, Midlife Crisis, yoga

I went to see my friend Stacey for a massage at Mainely You Massage a few days ago. I had picked the time so that I would not have to rush around to get there. I had the entire day off from work and had planned things to do (lunch and book-browsing with my friend Kristen, visiting another friend Teresa at her ice cream shop to try some new flavors that she created, dinner out with both of my children at the same time!) to which I was really looking forward and about which I was very excited. I arrived 15 minutes early for my appointment, after seeing my daughter of to school, my husband off to his job.

Stacey said, “How are you feeling this morning?” and I paused (completely uncharacteristic of me) and considered this question for a second before I responded. “Rushed!”  I was feeling like there wasn’t enough time. I felt pressured. “And there’s not one reason for my to be feeling this way!” I admitted. I pretty much always feel like I don’t have enough time to do the things I want to do, yet here I was, at the beginning of a day filled with exactly that, and I was still carrying this feeling around!

“That is a mantra that you created,” Stacey offered, inviting me to be focused on the thought, “I have plenty of time,” which is true, instead of  “I don’t have enough time,” which is (usually) not.

Wow.

As I went about my day, I started to really notice my thoughts, and was shocked at the number of times just that morning that I thought, “I don’t have enough time”!

Louise Hay, in many of her books, writes about the idea that, basically, “What you think is what you get.” I’ve believed this but for the first time I considered it in a different plane, almost, because even when I really did have all the time I wanted, it was right there in front of me, I didn’t see it.  Wasn’t appreciating it.

Has this ever happened to you?