When it comes to my period, I sort of feel like Forrest Gump sitting in front of a box of chocolates. Wild anticipation–because I just don’t know what I’m going to get.
It could be the boring nougat filled milk chocolate type of period where the cramps are meh and really nothing more than a slight annoyance, or the absolute dumpster fire that is the mystery orange-filled dark chocolate that reminds you to never ever trust anything ever again because the world is cruel and you might never recover.
Currently, I’m the latter. A feeling my children did not at all understand as I grunted and pointed toward the washer and dryer, because shit needed to get done and I was in no shape to do it myself. The only thing worse than doing laundry is having to do the same load of laundry again because you didn’t move it from the washer to the dryer fast enough to avoid mildew. But that’s not the point. The point is, I felt like my vagina was going to fall off if I moved, and they didn’t understand.
Not only are they a little young to fully grasp the science behind a woman’s menstrual cycle and all it entails, but even if they were, they still wouldn’t really get it. Yeah, sure, dudes know it hurts because we tell them it does, but they will never know what it’s like because they don’t have the parts.
If there’s one thing I refuse to do, it’s to raise men who don’t sympathize with women. I’ll be damned if I teach them everything they need to know in life, and still have them go “ewwwww” whenever a women mentions the word “tampon”.
DO YOU KNOW WHAT’S GROSS? TESTICLES. TESTICLES ARE FLOPPY WRINKLY SACKS THAT HANG BEHIND YOUR PENIS AND GET STUCK TO YOUR LEGS LIKE OLD BOLOGNA WHEN IT GETS HOT. DON’T TALK TO ME ABOUT GROSS.
I’m trying to avoid ever having to yell that at them. I totally would, but I’d prefer them to hear the words “period” and “cramps” and comprehend to either stay the fuck away, not be a douche about it, or bring chocolate. Maybe all of the above. How, though? How to make that happen when they will never be able to experience the delight and joy of even a single period cramp?
By putting it into terms they CAN understand.
It’s like your body suddenly morphs into a chunk filled water balloon that is being beaten with nail-covered bats by an army of fire ants.
Imagine going on an episode of Jackass and then having the entire cast and crew kick your parts for a week straight. It’s like that.
You know the stomach-bursting scene from Space Balls? Yeah. That’s what it feels like.
It’s like going to a buffet full of food you know is going to give you violent diarrhea, but you’ve already paid your entire life savings and have to get your money’s worth so you eat it all anyway.
It’s trying to function like a normal human being while feeling like someone is using all of your dangy parts as a punching bag. Stairs are the funnest part.
It’s a feeling in between that one you get right before you shit yourself, and the one before you puke. Only it never goes away.
It’s like having a cannonball covered in needles sitting in the lower part of your stomach. Oh, and it’s on fire.
It’s the constant, unrelenting sensation of not being able to trust a fart.
The fear that with any sneeze, cough, or hiccup, you could accidentally drench yourself in blood.
Like your center of gravity has been yanked down to your asshole area, and it’s so heavy that you think your bits could actually fall off.
It would feel like stubbing your pinky toe on a coffee table, but only if you had 4,512 pinky toes.
My boys will never understand the full period experience, but at least they’ll know if it’s bad enough to be compared to ANY of the above, they should just do the laundry and shut up about it.
What you REALLY need to make Holiday (or ANY) Travel Bearable goo.gl/fb/1BdFtj
Other moms: I finished Christmas shopping for my kids in June! Me: pic.twitter.com/FT3tlWGWd2
@CJPendragon learn something new every day!
@WeberWriting Absolutely. It takes a bit of time and juggling but it is 100% doable. Just have to ignore the sanctimommies of the world
Don't feel bad for tossing frozen chicken strips in the oven and calling it dinner. Don't even feel bad if you don't turn them over. holdinholden.com/2016/05/shit…
To the piece of crap who broke into my car over the weekend- You think you found nothing of value to steal, but you actually took with you the nasty head cold my family has been passing around in that very vehicle for the past week. Enjoy, scumbag! xoxo, Germ Infested SUV
The “Are You Ready to Have Kids?” Checklist of Doom goo.gl/fb/DTPJ1A
If anyone asks how I died, you can just go ahead and tell them "she was lured in by free pie in exchange for listening to 2nd graders screech Thanksgiving songs for 30 minutes"