There’s nothing more exciting than an annual visit to the gynecologist.
The day when you get to be extra late to work because you have to go answer a bunch of really uncomfortable questions about intercourse and self-breast-exams and your family’s medical history. And then walk around all day with a gallon of KY Jelly oozing out of you. Asking yourself …why the hell did I decide to wear a skirt today???!!!!
Before you even see the doctor,
It was “summer cleaning” at work, and everyone was assigned a duty. Mine was to clean the sales office.
I’m pretty sure this space hasn’t been cleaned… maybe ever? So it was a daunting task.
After sweeping up several trash bags of dead roaches, dust rabbits, and… hair (Gag… that’s what you get with four women sharing an office)… I could see the progress.
As I was putting away the last clear plastic container of odds and ends,
If you have kids at home, you likely spend a good portion of your day watching TV.
And thus likely spend a good portion of your day feeling like you live in an insane asylum.
The high-pitched voices.
The squeals of laughter. The over-exaggerated disappointment.
“Oh noooo, Alpha-Pig is toooo scared to go down the slide. What arrrrrrrre we going to do?”
And for whatever reason,
I used to be calm. Cool. Collected.
But something happened when I got pregnant, and I lost complete control of my emotions. (And my bladder. But that’s a whole other post.)
Anything sad, sweet or remotely HUMAN – and I become a hubbering, blubbering mess.
I have not watched a single movie since Colt’s birth that hasn’t made me hyperventilate.
I cried at The Hangover.
Occasionally Todd and I will watch something weird on Netflix.
I especially like to watch shows documenting mental illness, obsessions, addictions, oh and any of those bizarre sex shows…
Last weekend, Todd and I watched like 4 straight hours of TLC’s Strange Sex.
Each episode more horrifying than the last.
One about a middle-aged couple using common kitchen utensils to beat, spank and prod each other –
It was Sunday. Good Christians were exiting Fellowship Halls. Families were sitting down to supper. And heathen-women like me were entering make-shift strip clubs.
A male review disguised as a “movie theater.”
I’m gonna be honest. When my mother-in-law told me we were going to see Magic Mike, my first thought wasn’t about Channing Tatum’s loins.
It was that I could sit. For 2 hours. Without Colt calling my name 20 times a minute.
This past weekend one of my besties got married at the Renaissance Vinoy Resort in beautiful downtown St. Petersburg, FL.
I knew it was going to be a high class affair, and I also knew I’d be spending some time with my just married, child-free friends who still have money… and abs.
I prepared in every way possible. I bought a new dress (albeit a $24.99 dress from Forever 21), purchased new accessories,
Funny things happen to your body after you have a baby.
Even if you get back to the same “size” you were pre-pregnancy, your parts are all in slightly different locations.
Things are a little…. longer…and a little… lower…than they were before.
Not only do you have an actual baby to worry about now, but you also have all these jiggly bits to manage.
Colt was only a few months old. His acid reflux was keeping us up at night. I hadn’t slept more than a few hours in…
I stumbled into the break room at work for my morning coffee. Half conscious. It took every ounce of energy I had just to shmear my bagel.
I overheard two colleagues discussing an article they’d read on weight loss. How in a couple of weeks you could lose two dress sizes.