The Delicate Dance-Males Mentioning Midol

It is never an easy choice to make. Once man has committed to it, it is like making those quick life or death decisions. You don’t really think about what you are about to do, you only know you have to do something. The next few seconds of your life requires tack and a surgeon’s strategic strike. It is as much about your body language as it is about the correct wording. If you get very lucky and the timing is perfect your actions can be seen as attempting to relieve her suffering, not as any benefit to you. In the following paragraphs I will endeavor to guide you through the Delicate Dance-Males Mentioning Midol.


Having lived with my mother and two older sisters growing up, a long-term girlfriend for five years and my wife for the last twelve years I have had many encounters with PMS. There was a six month period that I lived alone, what a peaceful period (but I digress.) There are more forms of PMS then I could mention here and be assured you will come across each and every one of them from each woman you are with, the longer you are with your perfect partner the more forms you will stumble upon. Before you can even approach the idea of mentioning Midol (I say Midol because for my wife it is her magic pill, whatever works for your sweetheart use it) you must know what you are walking into. Is it the: she is yelling at you for something you said three weeks ago and then five minutes later is crying asking ”Why don’t you love me anymore?” or the “I have cramps, I am so fat and bloated” or is it the kids driving her crazy by just merely being kids? Those are just a couple of the more common forms it can take, but believe me you need to know what you are dealing with before proceeding.

Aside from living through (barely) my mother’s menopause nothing is as bad as my wife’s PMS. I have been with my wife the longest, so most of my examples will come from her (I love you honey.) Our children came up with a name; the PMS Momster, I use it as warning now, “Better be extra good today the PMS Momster is here.” Early on I was a complete dumbass, just throwing out the “Don’t you have Midol?” or just put the bottle in front of her with a glass of water (guys never, ever do this, just hand her a pill, if that gets thrown back at you it will not hurt nearly as bad as being hit in the back of the head with the whole bottle.) I have learned, it only took about a decade, but I think I finally know how to handle these situations.

For starters it is best to get in on the ground floor, for my wife cramps and bloating come before the hormonal/emotional imbalance occurs. So when she mentions feeling cramped and fat (her word) I casually bring up something along the lines of “Do you think they are premenstrual cramps?” Guys do not say “PMS” in any sentence you are not allowed, it is forbidden, trust me say the word “Premenstrual.” If you get the vaguest of affirmatives like, “I don’t know it could be,” use this as an opportunity to say “Doesn’t Midol help with your cramps?” You might add, “I’ll get it for you if like,” but being presumptive can have it own risks. If you get an aggressive negative answer to any of the above question, stop dead in your tracks; remain silent and motionless, if you are lucky something else will catch her attention before she tears you apart.

For my wife, if she takes Midol from the beginning she will generally take it as long as she needs to, because it does work and she does feel better and we have a peaceful PMS. If you are late and the hormonal/emotional imbalance has already begun, there is now little opportunity to make suggestions. There is one possible saving grace at this point, look through the television guide and find any girlie movie, preferably a love story. Never look to Lifetime movies, men are always the evil villain and she might become mad at you for no apparent reason.

Once the both of you are fully immersed in a good love story; you struggling to remain awake, her teary eyed, this is your time to ask “You seem awfully emotional, are you ok, honey?” As long as this said sincerely and maybe with a gentle squeeze of the hand, she might say, “I don’t know I think I might have PMS.” Yes it is perfectly fine for her to say “PMS” don’t question it just accept it. Asking the next question requires skill and timing, “Have you taken anything?” at this point don’t mention any product name. This question often gets me a, “No, not yet and I don’t want to get up.” Now don’t seem eager, you are almost there. Say something along the lines of, “Well, I have to go pee, would you like me to bring you your Midol?” This will usually elicit something like, “You just want me to take it for you,” to which I reply, “You know dear whatever makes you feel better makes me feel better, so I guess you’re right.” This usually defuses the situation. She takes the pills and within a couple of hours balance is restored.

I hope I have helped guide you through the Delicate Dance and that you and partner can move smoothly through this dance together. If you try anything from this blog and it totally backfires, I am truly sorry; you need to know the partner you choose to dance with before you can begin the dance. My final bit of advice, DON’T RUN OUT OF THE MIDOL!!!!



For the record, I was reading this to my wife while writing it, she was having a good laugh, but I don’t know, somehow I fear in couple of weeks writing this could come back to haunt me….

Breaking The Electronics Addiction

“Hello, my name is John”

     “Hello, John,”

“Umm, I am addicted to electronics,”

     Honestly, I wonder is there a twelve step program for electronics addiction? I do have something of an addictive personality. I mean, in the big scheme of things, I have no real reason to be constantly checking my iPhone. Nothing requires me to do this, in terms of a job or waiting on some important message. It goes something like this: check email, check twitter, check facebook and check for new or breaking news; wait five to ten minutes and repeat. I am just compelled to do it. I need to be connected, I need to know. Much to my chagrin it has become a crutch that prevents me from being productive for long periods at a time, especially with writing, which requires devoted time and focus.

     I guess it is due to a need to be stimulated in my otherwise pedestrian life. Like being a husband and father of three isn’t enough, I need more; I need my intellectual curiosity satisfied. I should say here, I have not worked in quite some time, I am on disability and have been trying to get back to work, and I do not get the same level of human interaction as most people do. Over the years I have become accustomed to these electronic experiences, but living viscerally through others only leads to contempt (I have quit facebook at least three times because of this.) This person is on a Mexican vacation, this person is on their boat, etc…. I need to live my own damn life. I need a plan!

     A person that has not worked in quite some time is less aware of the constraints of time then those who are employed. I need a schedule. Since I have truly devoted myself to writing and have the time to do it, I will schedule writing time. Like with any other addiction one is trying to overcome, replace the addiction time with productive time. So from 9am- 12pm I will write, only using my phone if someone calls me. My wife gets home at 12; we usually spend some quality time together, not going to change that. I will leave my afternoons open, for reading and checking my electronic existence. After children get home, take care of homework, make supper, and finish evening chores, etc… write for an hour. I’m thinking I will use this time to write my blog. Then when my three little angels (haha) are in bed I will write from 9pm-11pm.

     The amount of time I give myself for electronics will be based on my production, like performance reports at a job are based upon production; both quality and quantity. I need to hold myself accountable, because I have no boss. I will beat this addiction and live the life myself. The only excuse I have for not succeeding is me, myself and I. That’s my plan and I’m sticking to it.

-THE END-