50-something Moms Blog

Sex and Another City

For the last few years, I've been organizing meetings of the "Mom's Movie Club" - informal get-togethers at local theaters, for matinees that end just in time to pick up the kids from school.

So it was no surprise when my friend Mary Ellen called the other day to ask if we'd be buying tickets on May 30 to see the new "Sex and the City" movie.

She suggested we vary our format a bit: meet for cocktails (Cosmopolitans, natch!), grab some dinner and go to an evening showing. One of our favorite theaters holds special "21 and Over" screenings where you can drink cocktails while you watch, and we thought this film would be perfect for that.

My husband listened to my end of the conversation with dismay. "You mean, you're going to see it WITHOUT ME?"

I don't know if he caught my annoyance. One of the reasons I began cajoling the other moms in my group to see movies with me is that he NEVER wants to go -- unless the title contains the words "Bourne," "Austin Powers" or "Star Trek."

On top of that, my husband was never a fan of the TV series. Every time he hears the theme music, he comments about "that lame show." Granted, he did enjoy watching the series finale when it first aired in 2004 -- but I always figured that was because it was OVER. (This was before heavily edited versions started running all the time in syndication.)

On the other hand, I LOVED the show. It may be hard to believe, looking at the middle aged suburban mother I am today, but I got hooked on it because I identified with Carrie and her friends. They remind me of my younger, single self. My life was just like theirs...

...only without the City. Or most of the Sex. And cheaper shoes.

Miley is NOT a Role Model - And That's OK

It's been a bad year for our children's TV role models.

First, 16-year-old Nickelodeon star Jamie Lyn Spears (“Zoey 101”) became pregnant. And last week, the media was abuzz that Miley Cyrus, Disney's current golden girl, posed "topless" for famed photographer Annie Leibovitz in Vanity Fair.

Maybe it’s just the fact that I live in Los Angeles and have seen worse, but I thought the photo - a pretty typical Leibovitz portrait depicting the tousle-haired young star on a bed, clad only by a sheet - was only mildly provocative. For one thing, when I hear a woman described as “topless,” I’m thinking full-frontal. A more accurate word to describe her nudity level would be “backless.” A bathing suit reveals more skin. So do most of the dresses worn by stars to awards shows.

Public Education or Private School - Both Can be Stressful

When you are young, the friends you make are your schoolmates.

After you have kids, you tend to associate with the parents of your children's friends.

That's how I met Nedra and Dan. Our daughters played in the sandbox together when they were toddlers in daycare, and our two families hit it off. But when you think about it, we never should have met: we live on opposite ends of the San Fernando Valley, and travel in completely different social circles, as they are several brackets above us on the income ladder.

"It's really hard to be friends with people who have more money than you," my therapist once mused, before I quit my full time job and could no longer afford therapy. She was right. As longtime friends had

Middle Age = Parenting Serenity (to a Degree)

I have an acquaintance who likes to send me emails describing all kind of environmental horrors in common household products.

I delete them the minute they arrive.

It’s not that I’m not concerned about the poisons we may be inadvertently consuming.

I’m just not convinced that any of them are in concentrations that will do us any actual harm, or that they can be completely eliminated…

…or that today’s world is inherently more dangerous than the one I grew up in.

Handcuffed by Guilt

Years ago, I had a boss who would engage me in mock arguments over which group dealt with the most guilt: Catholics or Jews. I can't remember if either of us ever felt we'd "won."

Twenty years later, all I can say is neither of us had any idea what true guilt is. We had not yet become parents.  And single, childless young adults can't even begin to understand the power of guilt on a parent.

Sure, we’d experienced plenty of guilt as children. My mom has always used it to keep her kids in line. Growing up, the thought of hurting my parents kept me from making even more boneheaded decisions than I actually did. But its power cuts both ways: I learned at my mother's knee how to make her feel guilty right back. Once I realized I had that clout, I used it as often as I could.

I wish I could say that pattern has not repeated itself in my home, but that would be a lie. Guilt can be very effective, if it is not overused.

Too Old to Twitter, Too Young to Die

I have a niece attending college at nearby UCLA, which is nice for me, because I get to see her often. Last week, she experienced a new milestone: We were lunching at a restaurant, and the waitress taking the order asked her:

“And what would you like, Ma’am?”

Yup. She got “ma’am”ed.

It’s all downhill from here, I told her gleefully.

Of course, at my age, I get a lot worse than “ma’am.” My favorite was last year, when I purchased my current laptop computer. I handed the sales clerk my credit card and driver’s license for identification, and he said:

“You’re the same age as my mom.”

As if this news would please me.

Growing Old Somewhat Gracefully

I always thought I would grow old gracefully. By that, I meant that I would accept all the lines and wrinkles I earned by living all these years, and would not seek to look younger through surgery.

But where do you draw the line?

I spent several hours yesterday getting my hair colored. I had not touched it up since November, and it had become a weird melange of reddish-brown flecked with gray (not as much as I expected to have at my age).

I considered letting it go natural - which would save me a lot of money. But in the end, I made the appointment. It's not so much that I hate my gray hair; I just love how glossy and smooth it looks after it has been colored professionally. (I did not love it during the period when I tried to keep it up myself; then it just ended up having the texture of straw.)

Last week, I found myself at a "medi-spa" for a little facial waxing. When I made that "growing old gracefully" vow, I did not know that as my hormones depleted, I'd begin looking like the bearded lady at

Oh Say, Can You See?

Turning 40 was memorable for several reasons.

One was the birth of my daughter, who was considerate enough to make her arrival into the world a month before my own birthday (thereby allowing me to just squeeze that in while I was still in my 30’s).

Another was the acquisition of my first pair of eyeglasses.

I’m sure I would have put it off even longer, except that my driver’s license was about to expire, and I had a feeling I would not pass the eye test without corrective lenses. And I was right.

“You’re right on schedule,” my eye doctor informed me.  I guess 40 is the age when your eyes really start to deteriorate. Mine are doing so a bit unpredictably.

“ You’re anisometropic,” she announced, as she continued the exam, explaining, "Your left eye is near-sighted and you’re far-sighted on the right. And you have astigmatism, too.”

This is pretty typical for me. I’m not known for being able to do anything simply, and that goes right down to my eyeglasses.

I remember when I got that first pair of glasses. I gazed at myself in the mirror and was shocked at the

The Real 1970's

There is one item on my daughter's birthday wish list that she wants very badly and that I refuse to buy her: Julie, the latest historic doll from American Girl.

In the past, I've encouraged Megan's love affair with the American Girl line. I love the books that accompany the dolls, the fact that the characters are all decent, independent girls living in interesting times, and the authentic historic furniture and accessories that all help teach kids about our country's past. When she was in second grade, she received the introductory book for each of the characters. The one she loved best was Felicity, because she related to her spirit and sense of humor.

She received the doll on her next birthday, and over the last four years, it's made it easy for her grandparents to buy her something special. Felicity now has several changes of clothes, a bed, a chair, a wardrobe, and several replicas of Revolutionary War-era household items like a tea set and sewing kit.