Scribbling Dame

Preposterous Pondering.

I would much rather be a humanist. November 8, 2010

Filed under: Boobs,Mommy Issues,SuperWoman Syndrome,Vagina — Scribbling Dame @ 10:34 pm
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An “ism” usually gets a bad name. There are not a lot of good “isms” in the world. In fact, I am having a hard time thinking of just one example of a good “ism.” Vagism–nope. Communism–nope. Socialism–maybe. One “ism” that seems to always ruffle feathers is the dreaded “f” word: feminism. As a definite feminist even I sometimes cringe at the label, because it often equates with man-hater, terrible parent, and other undesirable qualities.

Yet every time I think of shirking the label, the gravitational pull of the lack of equality in our society burns in my gut in a way that is frankly too compelling to ignore. I cannot turn a blind eye to this kind of injustice, and I especially can’t ignore illogical behaviors and policies, particularly since becoming a mother. It does not make any god-damned sense to me why, since I am the breadwinner in my family, I will make 70 cents to the dollar to the guy next to me because he has a wang and doesn’t deliver babies. This is one example of many.

And so, this is why for now, I must remain a feminist. My ultimate fantasy is that one day I will be privileged enough to focus on human rights, because the gender gaps will be moot.

So, what is a feminist to do in a time of trouble? She turns to her icons and her mentors. In my case, I  happened across a brief interview with the mother of all feminists, Gloria Steinem, who gracefully articulates the true spirit behind feminism, which is about individual freedoms and fairness that is for the greater good.

Enjoy the video. I shall be burning my bra whilst you watch.

Feminism Celebrates the Individual

 

Wow. October 28, 2010

Filed under: Mommy Issues,Vagina — Scribbling Dame @ 4:06 pm

Not much renders me speechless. Fucking hilarious.

I know if I met these women we’d immediately be friends.

Pregnant Fly Girls

 

The period is the end of a sentence. Or is it? September 3, 2010

Filed under: Vagina — Scribbling Dame @ 10:28 pm
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I am trying to prepare myself for being a very open-minded mother when it comes to the choices my daughter will make about partners, jobs, clothes, etc. There are probably two categories of things that I will never be able to compromise. 1) If my daughter comes to me and says she is a Republican. 2) My daughter wants to be a morning news anchor. If she ever wants to “punk” me, feigning interest in one of these two will be highly effective. (Note: she does not have to be a Democrat, she just can’t be a Republican.) If you think I am being harsh about the latter, please watch this video:

(apologies for the link, the video would not post directly to the blog)

Ridiculous Shit about Your Period Brought to You by Ridiculous Women and MSNBC.

From the start, I love how the anchor can’t even talk about the dreaded p-word. Does she think other people don’t know that she has one? I also like how she says she “muffed” the intro. I’ll say!

Helpful insight #1: Your period makes you hungry and effects your emotions.

Say what? All these years and I had no idea!

Helpful insight #2: When you are on your period you are the most creative!

All along I should have been writing my posts for those magical 5 days of the month! Perhaps bleeding vag is equal to a bleeding heart? I am sure Virginia Woolf knew all about this. I am pretty sure that from now on, those of us with creative jobs or hobbies should focus all of our energy on that special week. Perhaps I shall take up cross-stitch…

Helpful insight #3: When you aren’t on your period you are more intuitive and you feel better.

Now that you are done being such a pussy about your period and feeling shitty, you can focus on other people and not be such a bitch.

Helpful insight #4: You have 24 hours to conceive!

Get to it! You will really only be a sexy minx for this short window.

Helpful insight #5: while you are PMSing you burn more calories, which is why you are so hungry.

So don’t eat things that make you fat.

Helpful insight #6: If anything weird happens down there CALL YOUR DOCTOR!

Who knows what lies in the murky nether-regions of your vagina. You should have an expert look at it if it does anything beyond it’s usual weird fucked up routine of inconvenience.

Helpful insight #7: Nature is just fucking with you, ladies.

You don’t actually need your period at all! 

This is not included in the video, but another thing you should know is that it turns out bears do not find ladies on the rag more tasty than ladies who are not on the rag. Scientists tested it.

What a relief! Who needs a mother when we have all this amazing info. at our fingertips?

Don't worry Dear. The bears won't eat you.

 

Stay out of other people’s vaginas. August 20, 2010

Filed under: Vagina — Scribbling Dame @ 10:02 pm
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Lately I have had two moments where I have had to really think about my tendency towards being judgmental, and generally speaking, I believe that one should worry about their own vagina and not what others are doing with theirs (or not doing, as the case may be), unless that vagina directly effects you.

No spawn allowed.

Example #1: No children

A friend of mine recently told me she is considering having a hysterectomy because she has debilitating periods. She has no children, is relatively young (early 30s) and is unmarried. As a mother and someone who cares about this friend, I had a visceral reaction to this decision and all that it meant.

I had horrible thoughts like “how will you ever get a man?” and “how can you know you don’t want kids until you have them?” Both of these sentiments are absurd because of course you don’t want a man who only wants you for your breeding potential and you also don’t want to have kids and realize you’d rather not after-the-fact.

Plus, who the fuck am I? I don’t have to walk around in her body with her crappy ass periods. Her vagina, her business.

(On a complete tangent I highly recommend that you google the phrase “no children image” and browse through the selection. You will be thoroughly amused and disturbed at some of the images that come up.)

Example #2: Too many children

On the other end of the spectrum, there can be concern over someone having too many babies. I know I am not alone here. You can bring up “Octomom” in any environment and everyone has a strong opinion to share. For me this is almost purely financial. Can you afford to send your 50th child to college? More immediately, can you afford to house, feed and clothe all your children? If the answer is no, and you have no rich relatives to mooch from, then you should probably re-think things. To be clear, I am not in any way suggesting that accidental pregnancies be aborted–I am referring to intentional pregnancy avoidance only.

This one gets tricky because unlike the no children category, the too many children people do cost the rest of us money.  So I get it when people might consider these births irresponsible and get upset over them.

Much like the rest of my positions on things, my live and let live to judgment and disdain ratio will depend on how much I like you, which depends on how much you do or do not annoy me.

I am too lazy to get a condom. Lots of babies is way easier.

 

Back to the humping board. August 13, 2010

Filed under: Mommy Issues,Vagina — Scribbling Dame @ 2:54 pm
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One Doctor’s office pee test later and I am not pregnant. Sigh.

The pregnancy nazi said "no baby for you!"

But, this means I get to drink Sangria’s at a BBQ tonight!

I forgot about the roller coaster of trying to get pregnant. This is probably because it sucks ass and it’s totally disappointing to get a negative test. We are all groomed to believe that we have total control over this process, and as any current parent knows this is just a taste of the future of parenthood, where almost nothing is predictable or as you may have planned. It is not as easy as an I-Dream-of-Jeanie nod of the head. You don’t just magically decide and then poof! Impregnate! (Thank God, or we’d all be Mormon–sized families…)

This is terribly ironic because for us modern ladies it is a huge hurdle to just come to terms with being ready for motherhood. The decision to try feels like the biggest part. Then you actually have to get your body to do it, which people don’t seem to talk about until there is a problem. Three things to note about this process for you first-timers:

The fact is, it’s totally normal to try for up to a year, before you need to make a doctor’s appointment. (I have more than one friend who has had their kid after more than a year of trying.)

Infertility is equally split between men and women, so don’t get all girly and blame yourself without looking at his equipment too!

The older you are, the longer it takes. (And I am sorry to say but 35 is considered a geriatric pregnancy. You know a male doctor came up with that term but egg-production wise, it is old. We all know you are sassy regardless though, 30-somethings).

I am not worried that I am infertile by the way. We haven’t been trying that long. But, it’s been on my mind since I am older and fatter–I mean, less healthy–since the first kid, and I have a lot of wonderful women in my life embarking on this sometimes harrowing adventure.

I was also thinking about this topic because, despite my better judgement, I watched The View the other day. I swear that show comes in a close second with Jerry Springer for it’s treatment of women. What a bunch of cunt-whores. BUT, the show was on trying to conceive so I got hooked in and boy do I regret it. To sum it up everyday my uterus is shrinking and my eggs are drying up. I am probably too old and fat to get pregnant. Oh, and poor. Well,ViewBitches, if all those fat assess on Maury can do it, so can I. 🙂

The View of Hatred. Ruining lives daily.

Needless to say I watched thirty minutes and surprisingly didn’t feel the urge to go fuck my man. If you are trying to conceive, avoid that show. If you are trying to gear up for a convent, be my guest.

It is Friday. It is Sangria time. It is time to get back to the humping board.

 

A Real Conversation with Kaiser

Filed under: Mommy Issues,Vagina — Scribbling Dame @ 2:53 pm
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I have not had my period for a few days now and for someone who works like clockwork and has never missed a period, this is a strong indicator that I am no longer flying solo. As I consider this I immediately regret the 3.25 beers last Sunday.

Anywho, I take 2 pregnancy tests on different days this week and both are negative. Hmm. But, this also happened to me with my first. Hmm.

8 a.m. call to Kaiser:

Kaiser Lady: What’s your health record number, address and phone number and name. Blood type, favorite sexual position, credit card number (ok just kidding about that last part but jeez).

Me after divulging everything she asked for (don’t they have that shit on file already? I tell you every time I fucking call–hit the “Save” button you inefficient motherfuckers) : “Um, hi. I know this might sound weird but I don’t know if I am pregnant. I am a few days late on my period and I am never late and I’ve never skipped a period. But I took 2 EPT pregnancy tests and they say negative, but they’re Error Proof right? But then with my first pregnancy I had a false negative also, so I think I might be.”

Kaiser Lady: “So do you want an appointment or do you want to talk to the Advice Nurse?”

Me: “Um. Oh, you’re not the Advice Nurse?

Kaiser Lady: “No. I am the Operator.”

Me: “Oh.”

Rinse embarrassment from sharing with the Kaiser operator my lack of intuition regarding my vag and general ovarian activity. Repeat with Advice nurse.

I just told this woman waaay more than she wanted to know on a Thursday at 8 a.m.

 

Do not trust the pee hole. August 6, 2010

Filed under: Mommy Issues,SuperWoman Syndrome,Vagina — Scribbling Dame @ 8:12 pm
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I am about to reveal to you perhaps the most embarrassing moment of my life (okay actually the second–the first was getting drunk and leaving explicit messages on my best friend’s Grandma’s answering machine: true story).

I am about to reveal to you the most embarrassing moment of my adult life, which shockingly all started with this generation’s best invention for women: my friend Spanx.

If you do not know about Spanx you are a) not a woman or transvestite b)blessed with excellent genes and an elastic body c) an alien life form.

I went on a client visit and to prepare I figured it made sense to invest in the fancy Spanx that cost $80 and hook to your bra so that when you sit down your giant muffin top doesn’t make your Spanx roll down causing you to look like a giant circumcised penis. Know what I mean?

So, I am at the client visit with my boss who I’ve worked with for six years and is like my cousin and two other male colleagues, plus about 4 members of the client team. I need to pee. I exit the room.

Now I have friends who had the fancy Spanx and they always raved about what I call the pee hole–a cut in the fabric that makes it so you can supposedly pee without having to disarm your Spanx. My old non-fancy ones had no such hole. I am standing in the stall and thinking to myself–do I unpeel all my clothes to pee and then try and cellophane wrap myself again or do I try out this amazing pee hole function? Given that I was in Florida and don’t like to sweat and given that when presented with activity or sloth I choose the latter, I took a risk.

Here is me, sitting on the toilet, using my hands to spread the pee hole in the fabric wider as well as shimmy my thong to the side. I pee. I feel a giant warm liquid spread throughout my general ass area. You probably saw this coming. Whilst peeing, the back of my thong filled up with piss, puddled, and then dumped all over the back of my Spanx.

I jolt up, dribbling piss all over my legs and the floor. I am 30 years old and I just pissed myself. At a client visit.

I consider the options: I can take off my Spanx and walk into the conference room with piss-Spanx in hand and attempt to slyly tuck them into my laptop bag. Downside: probably won’t be that conspicuous, plus I will look fat the rest of the day.

Option 2: wear them and hope that I don’t get a huge wet spot on my ass since I am sans sweater and in meetings all day.

I chose option 2, walked into the conference room and feigned needing to stretch my legs after a long day of flying and sitting, when really I needed to stand to air out my piss Spanx and pray that I could dry off enough to sit down.

Eventually my standing becomes awkward and I have to sit. I am sitting on the edge of my seat, trying to get some air flow going, praying that I air-dried enough not to embarass myself.

We break and I immediately call my boss into the hallway for a priceless conversation that goes like this:

Me: “Bobby, I am going to ask you something and I need you to not ask me any questions.”

Bobby: “What?” (Look of terror and curiosity in his eyes)

Me: “I need you to look at my ass and tell me if it’s all good back there.”

Bobby, with incredulous expression, laughs a little. I turn. This is the moment of truth–will I be thoroughly humilated for the rest of the day in front of my boss, colleagues and our clients?

He says “You’re fine.” Relief!

I say: ” You don’t even want to know.”

He says: “I know.”

So, while I am humiliated, the universe decided not to make it too public. I am thankful that I have the most compassionate boss with the best sense of humor and discretion (he hasn’t asked me yet what that was all about).

So, consider this a public service. Do not, I repeat, do not trust the pee hole in your Spanx.

 

This is totally what I look like and do in my Spanx. Oh yeah, and piss myself.

 

Disabled My Ass July 30, 2010

Filed under: Mommy Issues,SuperWoman Syndrome,Vagina — Scribbling Dame @ 9:55 pm
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I often find myself having to start out my posts with an explanation or disclaimer. Today’s disclaimer award goes to the disabled and seriously ill. My comments below in no way reflect a disregard for the disabled–in fact it is the exact opposite.

I do, however, have a serious mother fucking problem with pregnancy and birth being considered a disability and/or an illness.

This is disabled.

I just came out of an info session on benefits enrollment for my company. Ugh. I am lucky to work for a company that is taking parenting seriously and working to make the environment a family friendly one (me=squeaky wheel), but I cringe when we get our reps in and they discuss pregnancy as an illness and a disability. In fact I am shocked that Americans still classify this in such a way given the progress we have made over this century regarding understanding the contributions of women. I was never more superhuman and able than when my body created another healthy person and delivered her into the world.

Was the Virgin Mary disabled? I think not.

America, why do we consider pregnancy, the making of a complete new human life, a disability? Simultaneously an athlete who makes loads of money, uses performance enhancers and gets to dedicate everyday of his life to practice for the purpose of beating  some stupid record or team is a superhero genius. One contribution is more miraculous and beneficial to society, and if you cannot guess which one, you are sorely fucking misguided. My vagina and organs have done way more in one ten month period than many people do in their whole lives (see Lindsey Lohan, former BP President Tony Hayward).

The Wiki entry on Disability is quite interesting:

“Impairment in bodily structure or function is defined as involving an anomaly, defect, loss or other significant deviation from certain generally accepted population standards, which may fluctuate over time. Activity is defined as the execution of a task or action. The ICF lists 9 broad domains of functioning which can be affected:

  • Learning and applying knowledge
  • General tasks and demands
  • Communication
  • Mobility
  • Self-care
  • Domestic life
  • Interpersonal interactions and relationships
  • Major life areas
  • Community, social and civic life”

Anyone who has had a baby knows that in all of the above categories, with the exception of mobility in the third trimester, women’s abilities in these activities become significantly enhanced, not impaired.

Now I will be the first to say that transitioning into a parent does render one slightly disabled as you adjust to your new body and lifestyle, but by no means is this a permanent disruption to a person’s ability to function at full capacity in society.

Now, the history of pregnancy being considered a disability is actually a remnant of a positive occurrence–getting disability coverage for new mothers was in fact a feminist benchmark. That was decades ago, however. It is time to start differentiating between miracles and wonders and debilitating impairments.

While I am working on getting a new category for pregnancy payouts established in our society, I will hitherto refer to short-term disability checks as any of the following more snazzy titles: “A Paycheck Because My Vagina is Too Tired to Work.” That’s seems accurate. We could also consider “Bonus for being able to Procreate like a Gremlin who got Wet after Midnight.” “Trouble with Tribbles” is shorter. Hmm.  I must go now and write to my Senator about these suggestions. I highly recommend you do the same.

Now send me a check!

P.S. I actually don’t hate Lindsey Lohan–she just for some reason is always top of mind when I think of a wasted life. I blame Extra.

P.S.S. I do hate Tony Hayward.

 

Nucking Futz April 11, 2010

Filed under: Vagina — Scribbling Dame @ 9:43 pm

I have done it. I am doing it, and I might have officially made myself certifiable for doing so.

With all the blog posts about my trials and tribulations of motherhood, and my evil perfect two-year-old, and my sometimes not-worth-the-stress work life, and my chronic exhaustion and complaints about lack of me time, I am doing it anyway.

Dun dun DUNNNNNNN: I stopped taking the pill. Fertility goddesses–do what you will with me!

(For the record, Sofia has informed me that she would like a sister and keeps asking me if I have a baby in my belly.)

 

Number Two January 7, 2010

Filed under: Mommy Issues,Vagina — Scribbling Dame @ 10:05 pm
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No, this is not a blog about poo. (Although do the hand motions in the Activia commercials bother anyone else?)

This is about me thinking about doubling my mothering fun. Now that Sofia has turned two, she is so independent and I miss having a baby baby around. Not-to-mention a ton of women at my job are having their (first) babies, making me miss the old days.

I miss the little gurgly sounds and the tiny hands. I miss the QUIET snuggling and the soft new infant cry. I loved being pregnant the first time and think now that I know what to expect it would be even more fun the second time around.

So why am I so scared to take the plunge? Because I know what it means to be a mother and how much work it is! I feel swamped and tired now, yet I want to double my work? Also, I have heard the horror stories of the good first baby and the second-baby-Satan. Sofia was a good and “easy” baby and even now is pretty low-key, which means karmically speaking my next will ruin my life. Then there is deciding if I go VBAC or not…

But then I think of how much fun Sofia is and how she makes all my troubles melt away. I think of all the giggles and funny moments and pure joy I get to experience and why wouldn’t I want more of that? Besides, I am older getting older, not younger, so the longer I wait, the less energy I am likely to have, right?

Who am I kidding? I am just going to do it. I am turning 30 this May and I am doing it (the turning of the thirty) in Spain so why not do the other it (the sexin) and make another little Roylance? What better way to make a baby than in Spain at the prime of my life? If it doesn’t work out, I’ll only have to deal with the consequences for 20 or so years…

 

In Defense of the C-Section October 20, 2009

Filed under: Vagina — Scribbling Dame @ 11:06 am
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I am not exactly sure why this is, but there are apparently some people out there who don’t believe that a c-section delivery is worthy of the motherhood labor merit badge. (See “Vagism.” C-Section is worth 0 points)

I think you will not be surprised to find out that I disagree! To me, saying that a c-section delivery is not the “real thing” is just as bad as saying that a soldier who lost a limb in battle is a crappy soldier. There is always a story behind a lost limb, just as there is with a c-section. Besides, where the fuck is the credit for the past 40 weeks of carrying that baby? Who gives a shit how it comes out–no matter what the method, it is still a fucking miracle. (That would make an excellent maternity shirt…)

I remember crying and feeling so defeated when I found out that I’d have to get one. Of course, I had just pushed for four fucking hours without an epidural with everyone in my nether-regions saying “One more push–we can see the hair!” Lying bastards.  Oh and the vacuum and about 12 bags of saline later…Anyway, my kid refused to turn her head the proper direction. She has very clear ideas about how she wants things done.

Now as we discuss having our second I have already started to think about whether or not I will enter into the land of VBAC. The more I think about it, the more I am leaning towards another C-section. I like that I managed to have a labor and a baby, and yet still preserve my vagina. I avoided the incontinence that I hear of. No episiotomy needed. All systems are a go down there. I got to the destination without the mileage and I am more convinced everyday that I lucked out.

Other benefits: can we say Percuset? I completely understand why that shit has street value! Those are the best naps I have ever taken. I got set up with a 4 day hospital stay where people waited on me hand and foot. With a tiny button push I got all the pudding, snacks, drinks, and pillows I wanted. I didn’t get service so good  on my honeymoon in fancy hotels! Leaving the hospital only meant 2 weeks on my back where my husband had to wait on me hand and foot. At what other time in my life could I legally get loaded, stay on my back, be completely dependent on my man AND enjoy my infant for 2 weeks?

I am thinking it’s time to get pregnant again just so I can get a damn break for two weeks!

 

 
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