Sunday, May 22, 2011

Aunt Heidi Speaks on Mature Body Awareness

This is not meant to replace your annual physical, mammogram, pap-smear or prostate check.

We all remember “The MOVIE” right?  They put the boys in one room, the girls in the other to teach us about the forthcoming changes in our bodies?  How about making one for us in our late 30s, so when things start changing… again…we don’t think we’re dying?

Man Movie Highlights:

When you reach your 40s, you’ll have new and wonderful areas of expanding skin…just above your eyebrows.  Don’t worry--the hair isn’t disappearing, it’s just moved… to inside your ears.  The new 4” long eyebrow hairs you’re growing should take the focus off your shiny head.  Nature finds a way!

Speaking of ears-- it’s not your imagination-- they actually ARE getting bigger.  Don’t bother your doctor--you’re not becoming a chimp--ears grow forever.  Your nose grows forever too.  In fact, in about 30 years, you and all your male friends can have an “Elmer Fudd” look-alike contest…and you’ll all win. 
 
Please--don’t worry about that indentation on your “remote control” thumb.  You’re not dying.  That’s from turning the volume up…a lot.  It’s not the new plumage of ear-hair interfering with the sound waves either.  Go get an exam or one of those “Miracle Ear” thingamajigs and give your family a break…or we’ll all go deaf!

If you think I’m picking on you men—I dare you to be a 45-year old woman for a day….

Woman Movie Highlights:

I’ll start with some free association:

Turkey-neck.       Leaky Bladder.      Grey Hair.    Anti-Gravity Boobs. 

Eye-lid Hoods.     Wrinkled...EVERYTHING.    Hooves.

Dried-Up Like a Wind-Mummified Nomad.

Don’t be surprised by facial hair growth.  Like most 13-16 year old young men, peach fuzz can appear on our upper lips and chins.  And…just like 13-16 year old boy, if you shave your chin often enough, the hair will come in like Rasputin’s. 

Warring hormones will burn you like a cross on a vampire, causing sleeplessness, marital challenges and angst among your coworkers.  You’ll also have to go to the bathroom at night as often as a new puppy.  Advice:  Go to your happy place and put a piece of duct tape across your mouth…and reorient your bed so you’re closer to the bathroom.

Heidi trying to avoid being photographed.
If you’re in your 40s now, chances are you worshipped the sun as a teenager like I did.  Hope you had fun, because it’s time to pay the “Tanning Piper.”  I look so much like a spotted hyena right now and if I got on all-fours and laughed, someone would shoot me with a tranquilizer gun and haul me to the Milwaukee Zoo.  Be sure to have a “Mole/Liver Spot” map made with your doctor.  Be sure to ask for credentials if you happen to go to a “Free Full Body Scan” clinic.

If you’re having trouble reading this… 


Go get some bifocals.  There are no more “lines” to tip off people that you’re half blind.  The true tell-tale sign of a bifocal wearer is “Nodding” to find the right spot to see through.  It also makes us appear very agreeable.

Does this help in your transition into mature adulthood? 

Yeah, me neither.

Friday, May 20, 2011

I’ve Mounted WAY MORE than My Share of Birthday Saddles

Anyone out there who has darn-near hyperventilated blowing out trick candles;  who’s had 20 friends startle you in a darkened room; or who’s been attacked by 30 pink flamingos on your front lawn—and hated every second of it—let us commiserate together.

But we do like the cake and presents though.

“Is having a nice, quiet birthday too much to ask?”  I inquired of my husband, Fred, earlier this year…pre-birthday.

“But what fun is that for everyone else?” he replied and flashed that I’ve-got-something-in-the-works guilty look. 

Each year, when I blow out my birthday candles I wish the same wish—just give me my fattening dessert and don’t involve strangers with fiendish grins.  I wish, O granter of birthday wishes, that there was a law against embarrassing birthdays, so that the next time someone slips a waiter a note about my birthday, a police officer would poof in, put them in handcuffs and force THEM sit on a table-side saddle in front of 150 strangers on their 40th.

Yeah!  Ride THAT cowboy!

This year a friend offered to take me to lunch at my favorite Mexican restaurant on my birthday.  I accepted, but begged her—

“Please don’t tell them it’s my birthday—I SERIOUSLY do not want to wear the sombrero!”

But…faster than you can say, “Where’s the ladies room?” a mariachi band had assembled and the Spanish speaking waiter presented me with a fabulously ornate black sombrero, fiendishly grinning, saying, “Feliz Cumpleanos!” which I hoped meant “Here is a million dollars” or  at least “We spray for head lice.”

My “Birthday Embarrassment” is not limited to dinning.  In fact, surprise parties should be listed on a bottle of Benadryl as a cause for hives.  Fred threw me a surprise party for my 33nd birthday but he now knows if he ever does that again, he should plan to sleep with one eye open and his good ear up…forever. 

Children LIVE for their birthdays and they don’t mind people staring at them waiting for their amusing reactions and having total strangers size them up to guess their age.  They squeal happily over the fuss and don’t fret about how they’re going to look in all those candid pictures (or who will post them on Facebook).  Save the parties, the hats and horns and the singing restaurant employees for the little kids….

…and leave us this old, camera-shy “Birthday Grinch” alone!  

I still want cake and presents though.