Category Archives: I am woman

I have a hole in my Spanx

Written on August 13, 2009 by in I am woman, my hawt body, Quirky Me, Randomness

I just thought you all should know that the hole in the crotch of Spanx that I assume is for bathroom convenience, doesn’t work as intended.**  It’s not important how I know this, just that I know this.   Please don’t make me explain in detail, it’s just too humiliating.

What?  You don’t understand?  Fine.  Here’s one word to describe the calamity I experienced.  MOIST.  Happy now?

**Spanx hole intended use.  (I suppose there is another reason there could be a hole in the crotch of Spanx besides for tinkling, but no.  We are not discussing that here! My delicate eyes!  My delicate eyes!  Don’t you know this is a family blog?! ?) (Well, okay, we’ll talk about it quickly since we’re in the safety of parentheses.)  (Ooh, look!  Parentheses!  It’s almost like I’m talking to myself.  No one can really see what I’m writing!)  (Why on earth would you get it on while wearing Spanx?)  (I don’t really even want my husband to know that I own or have a reason to own Spanx.)  (As much as  I love that Spanx are completely unnoticeable when I’m clothed, they are QUITE OBVIOUS when I’m not clothed, therefore, NO.)  (I would not use the hole in Spanx for the loooove.)   (Carry on.  Let’s pretend this conversation never happened.)  (Ooh look!  Is that Johnny Depp over there?!)

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I’m keeping the appointment. Period.

Written on September 9, 2008 by in Huh?, I am woman, my hawt body, Quirky Me

Those of you who follow me on Twitter may have had the pleasure of seeing this tweet from me yesterday:

Photobucket

Oh I’m sorry Mom(s), Kate, my neighbors, any guys reading, I probably should have warned you that today you *might* get a little too much information about me that you didn’t really need to know.

Oops.  My bad.  Consider yourself warned, it’s not getting any better.

So now you know I’m menstruating AND I got a pap smear.  I suspect that sometimes when you come here to read you think to yourself, “wow, Playgroups are no place for children.  Where it’s all vagina talk, all the time.”

Anyway, back to my Twitter question yesterday…I got several replies and direct messages.  About 75% of you said I should cancel my appointment, 25% of you said I should go ahead and get my pap smear.

A few of you suggested I should call my doctor and just ask.  *smacks self on head*  Yeah, I probably should have just done that rather than Twittering about my “monthly visitor.”****

When I called the office, the nurse said that there was no need to reschedule since my menses had just started.

On one hand, EWWW!  GROSS!

On the other hand, there were lots of tense moments trying to get someone (read:  Tate) to watch the kids while I went to the appointment.  I had to remind someone about twenty zillion times about this appointment and hear about how it’s a bad time at work, but “it’s no big deal *heavy sigh*.  I’ll figure out something and be home to watch the kids **heavier sigh**.”

Also as several of you on Twitter pointed out, the OB/GYN office has seen worse.

Since the doctor said to come on in, then there was no way I was rescheduling.  Gross or not.  So what would you have done in this situation?

PS. Don’t you just hate the word “menstruation” and “menses?”  Me, too!  Ick.

PSS.  I vow that this is the last time I talk about my womanly parts for at least a month.  You’re welcome.

PSSS.  ****”Monthly visitor” is a bit of a misnomer, as it’s not any sort of “monthly” or “regular”, but rather, “just comes whenever the f*ck it feels like it and stays for a month.”  Thanks Mirena!

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Tell me she’s not talking about her crotch again

Written on August 29, 2008 by in Ask Teh Internets, confession, I am woman, my stream of consciousness, Quirky Me

This situation of which I’m going to describe is PURELY hypothetical.  Not one ounce of truth to it, no siree.  None whatsoever.  *fingers crossed behind my back*

So tell me, what would you do if, say, you were on a walk with your (two) kids in an adjoining neighborhood and you suddenly had the most terrible, all-consuming itch.

The itch is in the upper crotch region, not to be confused with the lower crotch region-which obviously if you’re itching “down there” you might want to see a DOCTOR.

Anyway, this upper crotch region itch is a really, really itchy itch.  It itches so much you can barely walk.  It itches so much you feel like if you don’t scratch it, you’ll lose your mind.

Keep this in mind, you’re not in your neighborhood.  It’s highly unlikely that you’ll see anyone you know.  Even if you did see someone, most likely you’d never see them again.  Also, it’s early in the morning, but not so early that there are lots of people driving by heading for work, kids have already left for school.  Basically, it looks as if nobody even knows you’re there.

But also keep in mind the fact that it’s your CROTCH that itches and to scratch it looks incredibly nasty to the average Joe who happens to witness such an act.

Do you get in there and scratch away, right there on the street, trying to act like nothing’s amiss as you attempt to continue pushing your double stroller while getting after that itch?

Or do you suck it up and continue walking while thinking non-itchy and non-scratchy thoughts?

WHAT do you DO????

I’m just curious in case this ever happens to me.  Also, I’m just collecting this information for a book I’m writing on survival skills in the suburbs.  Um.  Yeah.

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Hoo-Hatorial

Written on April 3, 2008 by in I am woman, my hawt body, playing along

So I think we’ve established two things.

1.  We all pee our pants.
2.  Kegels?  Huh?  We don’t really know how to do them.

Sarah at Ordinary Days, and fellow Indiana blogger, had a fine idea to have a kegel karnival.  Maybe this will get us motivated! Go check it out and add your story! 

kegel karnival!

Since many of us don’t even know how to do a kegel, I did a little research. For the betterment of all womankind, I’d like to offer you the following hoo-hatorial.  I will not be checking to make sure you read and followed these instructions, just so you know. I mean, I like you, but I don’t like you THAT much. Ew.  If you want to continue peeing yourself, be my guest.

I’ve also decided to include my personal thoughts on these instructions, in the form of parenthetical references and italics!  Enjoy!

1. Find your PC muscle. (PC stands for Pnvboehifhaihiheifh) Your PC muscle is the one that stops your tinkle. So to find it, tinkle a bit then make it stop. That’s your PC muscle.

You can also, uh, well, stick your finger…(Nevermind.  I’m SO not going there.) If you’re interested go to this link.

2. (Phew. Found the PC muscle, am I done? No? Damn.)  Squeeze your PC muscles as hard as you can.  (I can’t?)  Squeeze for 3-5 seconds. (Riiiiiiight.  That’s like a freaking eternity with these worn out muscles!)

3.  Now it’s time for reps.  (Reps??  Are you facking kidding me???)  Start with five reps.  Squeeze, hold 3-5 seconds, release. 

4.  Once you’re able to do this, work up to more repetitions and to holding each for longer.  (Super hoo-ha , here I come!)  You want to work up to 10 seconds. (10 seconds???  With my hoo-ha muscles???  Seriously, is that even possible????)

5.  Do your kegels 3-4 times per day.  (I’m going to do this the next time I’m I’Ming with Megan or talking on the phone with Heather.  Hiiiiiii!  I’m doing my hoo-ha reps RIGHT NOW!)

I hope for your sake that you’ve just spent these past few seconds aquainting yourself with your hoo-ha muscles.  Kegels can be done anywhere, anytime.  Nobody has to know that you’re doing them, although the very serious look of concentration and the counting might give it away.  Just sayin’.  Now go practice and tell your story, then link it….HERE!

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On a completely unrelated note, catch the BOOBs tonight on BlogTalkRadio at 8:30 Eastern time as we discuss mommyblogging and branding.  Pleeeeaaaaassssse call in while practicing your kegels.  Pleeeeeaaaaassse.

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This Post Brought to You By the Makers of Poise Pads

Written on April 2, 2008 by in I am woman, my hawt body, Quirky Me

We’re all friends here, right?  I’m just going to go ahead and lay it all out for you.  Due to a cough that won’t just won’t. facking. go. away, I’ve realized that I’m incontinent.  Since Amy (Amalah) (whom I adore and would secretly like to marry if it weren’t for those pesky polygamy and same-sex marriage restrictions) wrote about peeing her pants, like totally PEEING HER PANTS, I feel like I can now tell you of my plight.

Her post made me feel validated.  I pee MY pants, too!

Her post was about when she peed her pants when she was over 30 weeks pregnant, which alone is reason enough to pee your pants.  So MY peeing my pants when I’m not even 1 day pregnant, just 11 months post birth, is pitiful.  And gross.

It all started a few weeks ago when I came down with a cold, courtesy of my germ schmeared children.  The cold started out in my head, then it moved to my chest, thus beginning bouts with nearly gag-inducing coughing fits.  Each time I cough, I pee.  Cough, pee.  Cough some more, pee some more.  Cough, cough, cough, pee, pee, pee.  Sometimes it’s just a little pee, other times it’s not just a little pee. 

I try, oh do I try, to keep from peeing myself.  Whenever I start to cough, I contort my body and legs in such a way to hopefully make up for the obvious lack of musculature DOWN THERE.  Even my contortionist attempts aren’t working, though.  If I know I’m going to cough, I stand up so that I don’t pee all over the couch or where ever I happen to have planted my ass.  In the past several weeks, I’ve changed my underwear more times each day than I change Carson’s diapers.   

Am I really telling you all this?

I’ve consulted my trusty family physician (Google again) and she tells me that I should be doing kegels or that I have a bladder infection and will probably die a horribly painful, drawn-out death characterized by wiry nipple hair, tumor-like zits, and impotence at the hands of evil bladder bacteria.*   So DAMN, either way I’m screwed.  A painful death or more exercise, I don’t know which is worse.  It’s not as if I even have time to fit more exercise into my already very full days.   I mean, seriously, I have two very huge thighs and a pillowy gut that need prompt attention and can’t fit any exercise into my day.   Adding kegels to my “workout routine” falls in the “unlikely as hell” category.

I did really tell you this.  **head shakes in disbelief**  Validation, people.  Validation.

*slight exaggeration.

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Many Unhappy Returns

Written on March 28, 2008 by in haiku friday, I am woman, Men?

Haiku Friday

The curse has returned
Gone nearly three years with just
one Aunt Flo visit

Men.  This is your cue to leave promptly.  Quietly shut your browser and pretend you were never here.  Please return again tomorrow when I promise to talk about something ELSE like boobies or trucks.

So hello ladies!  It’s just us today, feel free to look around and note how CLEAN and tidy and sock-free everything is.  The counters are wiped and you have control of the remote. 

When I went to bathroom earlier in the week, I noticed something on my undies. 

“Huh?” I thought to myself.  “What in THE hell IS that?” 

It took a minute, but I finally came to my senses and realized, “Oh yes.  It’s THAT.” 

I wondered if I even had any feminine hygiene products in the house, but then remembered to my horror that my movers had packed and moved them in a box labeled “WOMEN’S PADS.”

So I retrieved one of my WOMEN’S PADS and set off to spread the word to Tate and explain to him why I had been picking fights and acting even more passive aggressive with him than normal for the previous week.

He looked at me, squinting and crinkling his nose.  I assumed that he was going to make my need to wear WOMEN’S PADS all about him and his needs. (gag)  Instead he was confused. 

“Is that even possible?” he asked.

Since the arrival had also surprised me, I decided to forgo the lesson on menstruation and wimmins for Tate.  Rather, I explained that yes, indeedio, it was possible.

“Well, I KNOW that it’s POSSIBLE, but I didn’t think IT would happen with the IUD,” to which I realized Tate had a point.  I didn’t think I’d need WOMEN’S PADS with the IUD. 

Of course I contacted my trusty family doctor **Google** and she explained that 20% of women did in fact have NO need for WOMEN’S PADS while the rest of us get to entertain an unwanted visitor every month. 

This is one of those times in my life that I really, really, really wish that I was less than average.

***************

To play along for Haiku Friday, follow these steps:

1. Write your own haiku on your blog. You can do one or many, all following a theme or just random. What’s a haiku, you ask? Click here.

2. Sign the Mister Linky below with your name and the link to your haiku post (the specific post URL, not your generic blog URL). We will delete your link if it doesn’t go to a haiku. If you need help with this, contact Christina or myself. REMEMBER…ONLY sign Mr. Linky if you have a HAIKU POST.

3. Pick up a Haiku Friday button to display on the post or in your sidebar by clicking the button above.

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Suave’s Marketing Campaign Makes Me Want to Yell, “I am Woman, Hear Me Roar!”

Written on October 14, 2007 by in hear me roar, I am woman, my hawt body




Have you seen Suave’s advertising campaign geared toward Moms?

Since I’m thrifty (it sounds better than cheap), I’ve used Suave shampoo and conditioner for many years. On my most recent conditioner purchase, this is what was written on the back of the bottle:

“Every mom can ride the bus to beautiful.

Instructions:
*Get kids safely to school and retreat to shower. For best results, use with Suave Volumizing Shampoo and Volumizing Foam before your grown-up playdate.
*Apply conditioner and leave on for 3 minutes. Use the time to plan an outfit that does not involve an elastic waitstband.
*And while you’re at it, do something else just for you – like pick up a big foamy latte or restock your lingerie drawer. Fully. With the likes of things that drawer has never seen.”

Advertisers realizing that we want more out of life than quick-fix meals and coupons!?! On Suave’s website, they provide several interesting factoids about how mothers devote very little time to themselves. For example, did you know that on average, women devote 87.9 minutes to meals and 4.2 minutes to their hair? I think this type of marketing to mothers is genius. The fact that Suave hasn’t forgotten that although Moms spend the majority of their time tending to others’ needs, we are also women, who enjoy and deserve to be pampered. Reading this bottle of conditioner left me cheering. Apparently, I’m not the only one.

According to a USA Today article, this type of marketing has boosted Suave’s sales, which were up 3% at the end of August. Like the Dove ads which featured women of all shapes and sizes, advertisers seem to have found a niche with women and mothers. I love that they see us as people with buying power, and as women who want to feel beautiful.

Maybe it’s a bit simplistic to think that simply washing my hair with a Suave shampoo is going to help the women in me come out, especially since I spend the vast majority of my days covered in spit-up. However, the fact that this ad campaign speaks to the fact that I deserve more than daily laundry and tantrum control, leaves me wanting to hi-five the ad executives who realized this often overlooked fact. Since hi-fives are unlikely, I’ll just continue to buy my Suave Sleek Shampoo, Conditioner, and Smoothing Liqui-Gel.

By the way, this is NOT a product review. I’m just so delighted by their ad campaign that I couldn’t resist writing about it.

Source, Source, Source

Technorati Tags: Suave, Marketing to Women, Marketing to mothers, Consumer Review

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