The first rule of Period Club

Every time that bitch Flo comes to town, I swear i’m not going to spend her entire visit complaining about her. I’m going to be the adult, i’m going to completely ignore her and go about business as usual…but there’s just something about that stuck up, selfish, bearer-of-pain that infiltrates my every thought and action and all I can see for a full 7 days is red.

After last night’s period/man hating blog, I guess I pissed off my innards enough to wage a full fledged war on me as soon as I opened my eyes this morning (after a full night of vivid nightmares about who the fuck knows what). The pain and irritability, they are fantastic- but nothing ever quite compares to the AMAZING level of  awkward moments it can create when you have a very curious 4 year old little boy helicoptering over your every move because you’ve refused to tell him what the fuck a menstrual cycle is.

Don’t you judge me. I have my reasons.

There’s just no easy way to explain to a little boy that my uterus is in a vice grip with the occasional pass of a cheese grater.

It’s not that I don’t think it’s important that my children understand why NOT to fuck with mommy for 2 weeks out of every month- oh I do– it’s just that a 4 year old does NOT understand the first rule of Period Club- DO NOT TALK ABOUT PERIODS. That is lost on small kids with absolutely no filter.
The last thing I want is my kid going off to kindergarten and bragging to his little friends; “guess what MY mommy can do?!” and convincing them that I am a bloody new super hero… or villain.

There are many things I think would be horrible to get calls home from school about like fighting or pants crapping or 4-letter word usage, but the discussion of my menstrual cycle? That takes the fucking cake.

So no, I have NOT told my kids about periods or vaginas or uteri or any other awkward female parts or byproducts (other than boobs.. those were unavoidable). I try not to even mutter the word “tampon” around them, and they don’t know the word “vagina” (which i’m positive would be mispronounced Bagina)- but that does not mean I haven’t gotten the 3rd degree.
Helicopter kid, remember?

Yes, it does tend to get mighty fucking awkward when Holden asks me what that string coming out of my “end” is, referring to it as a “tail”, or calling a used tampon in the toilet “mommy’s bloody doodoo” or asking me about MY pecker- and sometimes i’m not sure which the lesser of two evils is… but then I remember being humiliated at home alone is a million times better than in public surrounded by strangers who would laugh at my expense.

Posted on March 8, 2012 by Holdin' Holden 5 Comments
Holdin' Holden

About Holdin' Holden



  • fortunately my little man is only 1(today, yay, I made it!!) but he is FASCINATED by the bathroom!!!! and my cycle, believe it or not, the pads and tampons intrigue him even further!! So i am now @ the “the potty is a private place” “we don’t go to play or socialize!!!!” hopefully this works!!! or he or i may not make it another year…and i thought the dogs were bad!

  • omG I so don’t care who knows about it .. by about 14 months BoyGenius was quite adept at putting panty liners on and now at 8yrs couldn’t care less about all the paraphernalia but he certainly knows why we have it.

    I’m one of those women who just couldn’t wait for my manager to complain about me being in the bathroom just so I could say “sorry, I had to change my tampon!” Unfortunately it never happened.

    But hey, you do what you gotta do, what you feel is right for you guys. It’s all good.

  • If it makes you feel any better my neighbors kid cots holes in her pads, sticks them to his face and says its his super hero mask.

  • Dear god, I have my bathroom baracaded! And thank god my son ( who is 11 ) just hasn’t bothered to ask. Anything “girly” makes him queezy. I’m know It’s coming though 🙁 My two younger brothers used to steal our tampons and use them as missles and rockets for their army guys. Needless to say that was an interesting conversation! Ugh, boys….


    my poor 2 year old is obsessed with tampons. she can’t possibly know what they are, but every time she finds the box, she has to have at least 1 to carry around with her. i don’t know what the appeal of lugging around a little tube of cardboard and cotton is, but if it keeps her busy and gives her purpose enough to not hurl herself on the ground screaming for the 56784836586th time that day, hell, she can have some pantiliners with it too!! even though BF finds this creepy, we have agreed that photos and vids should be taken and used as blackmail for the teen years.