A Pause from the Pause to Celebrate Art

Let’s take a break from thinking about  menopause and midlife to admire these stunning cameos sculpted in the creamy frosting of an Oreo.

I first discovered the icing cameos of Judith G. Klausner when they were featured in the February issue of O Magazine. Each design takes Ms. Klausner six hours. The artist’s tools are toothpicks and pins.

 You can see more of these lovely cameo ladies on the art blog, Beautiful/Decay. 

And I thought a plain old Oreo was a work of art all by itself.  But this takes one of the world’s finest cookies to a whole new level.

Meaner as We Age?

A poem of sorts (written by me) about safety pins:

Are safety pins safe

because their sharp point

gets tucked inside,

or do safety pins

make for safety

because they’re helpful

in  emergencies?

Let me be a safety pin,

my hateful point tucked in

and my kinder edge ready

to assist those who

need to be secured.

Some say that as we age, men grow more mellow, and women grow more mean.

I like the idea that men mellow out. There’s nothing more charming to a menopausal lady than a mellow man (who’s still up for plenty of fun despite his mellow manner).

But do women really get meaner?

Does meaner actually imply bolder?  Feistier?  More honest?  More open?

Or does meaner  mean MEAN?

Let’s take a Friend for the Ride poll!  Do you feel yourself becoming more mellow or more mean?

A safety pin for your thoughts…

Future Grandmas Beware: The Times They Are a Changin’

Well of all things!  Pregnancy, childbirth, and baby care have changed.

How dare they!

Of course they dare.

Babies should be placed on their backs for sleeping, and please don’t cover them up with a blanket, no matter how comforting that blanket looks.  And no teddy bears in the bed either. SIDS rates have gone down remarkably thanks to these simple steps (and some others.) Yes!  What wonderful news.

There’s a baby sign language, developed because kids are able to communicate with hands before words, which sounds funky but fun. I hope I can catch on to it.

And there’s a movement (pun somewhat intended) called “ elimination communication.” You help babies use the toilet by holding them there when they give you clues they have to go. I’ll believe that one when I see it, but more power to today’s moms if they can make it work. Nobody ever said changing  a poopy diaper was  on the A List of Motherly Joys.

If you’ve just had a meal, read the next one with caution.

Since human mothers don’t consume their placentas like most (all?) mammals, there’s a trend for them to do so. If it’s too much for a mom to cook it up and eat with a knife and fork, she can have the placenta encapsulated and pop it like a vitamin. Studies have shown this helps with post-partum depression AND perhaps menopause.  I’m going to sneak one of Kath’s. I’ve got a few symptoms left.  Love to see what a little dried placenta will do. Report to come. (You can read an abstract for one study here.)

But guess what hasn’t changed?  The anticipation and wonder and happiness of carrying a child and giving birth.

That’s how Kath feels. And that’s how I feel, even more now than when I was pregnant myself.

Since menopause, I barely cry. I think my regular  this-is a-bad day or I’m mad-at-the-world tears floated away with the estrogen.

But in moments when I think about my grandbaby to be, those good old tears can come springing back.

Photo: Kath, above, reported on Baby Eats Real Food that her uterus is now the size of a a soccer ball. I’ve had a great time reading the blog and hearing what young mothers are talking about it. Hats off to them. Everywhere I go, I see darling kids. Moms of today seem to be doing a very good job, even though they don’t do it EXACTLY like we did.

Guest Post: Urinary Incontinence Stop Me? No Way!

A guest post by writer and blogger Lisa Winkler.  I asked Lisa to write this post in response to a comment she made on a Friend for the Ride post, Prolapse: Fix It with Duck Tape?  Thanks, Lisa!

About the time I started running—in my mid-40—I started leaking.  The situation gradually got worse. Much more than the slight trickle after a cough or sneeze, I’d return from a run soaked through.  I ran with a group of women, usually early Saturday mornings, about 6-8 miles.   I remember when the leader, a marathon runner, invited everyone for a post-run brunch to celebrate her birthday. I drove to her house, where the run would begin and end, followed by the brunch party. I packed a change of clothes. After the run, I couldn’t wait to get into the bathroom to change. Everyone else stayed in her athletic clothes. The host didn’t care if our sweaty bottoms sat on her dining room chairs. But I knew better.

Soon after, I decided I needed to see my urologist. I couldn’t stand running and leaking. My inner thighs were  chafed from the moisture. And I wasn’t going to stop running.

I had a relationship already with Dr. Yitzhak Berger. A few years before, I’d developed interstitial cystitis, or IC. (http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmedhealth/PMH0001508/)

Teaching at the time, I’m convinced it occurred due to job stress and the lack of free time to go to the restroom. It’s a known fact that teachers contract an unusual amount of urinary tract infections. A colleague and friend of mine, suffered from the same condition. We’d often meet at the doctor’s office.

After about nine months on medication that was supposed to alleviate the symptoms—you don’t ever really recover from IC- I had an in-office procedure, a hyperextension of the bladder. Basically they blow up the bladder like a balloon and that for whatever reason lessons the painful, irritating symptoms. It worked.  Though I sometimes get minor bouts of IC, it’s manageable.

So I want back to Dr. Berger. Getting an appointment can take weeks and then you wait and wait. He takes his time with patients.  An Israeli man who looks like Woody Allen, I always enjoyed seeing him and trusted his expertise. In a practice of 9 other all male urologists, he was the only one dedicated to women’s health and a specialist in Female Urology Urodynamics.

While too many years have passed for me to remember my exact words, I’m quite sure I said to him: “I’m not leaving until you fix this,” referring to the leakage.

He couldn’t do anything that day but suggested I consider an outpatient procedure that he’d been involved with inventing.  I didn’t have to think twice; I took his first available slot to have him place a TVT or trans-vaginal tape that supports the urethra like a hammock and prevents incontinence.

This procedure changed my life. No longer did I worry about wetting my pants during a run and could socialize after without fear of reeking like an unchanged diaper.

Now in my 50’s, and more a cyclist than a runner, I’m finding a bit of urinary incontinence from riding. New reports say that cycling affects women’s sexual health too.  If my conditions get worse, I’ll return to Dr. Berger. As far as cycling and sexual health, I put my trust in my bike shop mechanic who has fitted my bike to my body: if the handlebars and seat are correctly placed, and I’m not riding for 12 hours a day, I’m not worried.

So ladies. Find an urologist you can trust.  There’s no need to endure discomfort or embarrassment due to urinary issues. Thanks to Barbara for encouraging me to write about my experience.

Lisa K. Winkler’s blog: http://cyclingrandma.wordpress.com/ chronicles her opinions and observations. She’s the author of On the Trail of the Ancestors: A Black Cowboy’s Ride Across America.  Find out more at her website: www.lisakwinkler.com