- 50ml soy milk
- 1 x handful of frozen berries
- 1 x banana
- 1 x tsp LSA mix
- 1 x tsp Acai powder
- 2 tbs yoghurt
Open fridge and scream “Where the hell are the blueberries?” Slam fridge shut. Watch husband slink out the door to work with suspicious container probably harboring the last of my blueberries. Retrieve dirty blender from sink and rinse it off quickly whilst eyeing off the fruit bowl. Swat fruit flies away and cut up the overripe bruised banana nobody wants. Fling Tupperware and random plastic items with no lids around the cupboard muttering “Where the heck is the measuring jug?” and “Who keeps stealing my lids?” Retrieve medicine cup from cough mixture and pour soybean juice into it five times. Apparently 50ml of soy is good for hot flushes. I can’t be bothered with tofu, so the milk is worth a shot. I’m sick of flinging off my cardigan and wrestling with the seat belt at traffic lights four times a day.
I’m grateful for all the strawberries which I have cut up and frozen. I buy them locally to cut down on food miles. Not that it matters much as they travel further to school and back, returning home watery and I’m weird about throwing out food. Add a teaspoon of LSA, I’ve forgotten what it means but I know it does something good and you can’t taste it. Add a teaspoon of Acai powder. I refuse to buy an Acai bowl from a 12-year old kid with high pants and a messy bun at hipster cafes; but secretly I scoff it at home. It has some kind of superpower and rumoured weight loss ability. Do not under any circumstances add kale. I don’t care what it does. It smells like feet, end of story. At least Acai is tasteless and pink. I steer away from green juice at all costs, just in case.
Lastly, I add the sad few watery scrapes left in the container of yoghurt abandoned in the fridge. There is another one open, what the fuck is wrong with people? After blending this to a thick smoothie, I add the finishing touch – a metal straw. Insta-worthy. Seriously, those paper ones disintegrate to mush in a heartbeat, and this is too thick to drink without assistance. After wrangling kids in the morning, feeding the dog, trying to meditate, showering and dressing, doing my two minute makeup routine which consists of forgiving foundation and thick mascara, finding the socks, school shirt, shoes that my children cannot seem to locate even though they are in the same place every time, and packing some kind of lunch, who has time to chew?
Voila. Menopause smoothie. With that 5-star health rating, I should be ready to hoover back some chocolate chip bickies by ten. Enjoy!
Rachel Wilkinson is a Counsellor and writer based in Brisbane. She tries to eat well but occasionally falls headfirst into a baked cheesecake. Approaching 50 she is trying to manage her own hormones, a teen and a preteen, a husband, work and a very naughty sock thieving Cavoodle.