Wallowing

You may not want to read this if ‘TMI, Dude!’ is used in your conversations with friends very often. …or if you actually know me.

Still here? Well, you were warned

My youngest is at preschool today. I always have big plans for the two hours I get to be alone at home.. that is, until I have actually dropped both kids off. Yesterday I had my cleaning regimen all mapped out. No really! I did! That should have been the first sign it wouldn’t go right.

I woke up today with a pounding uterus. My periods have been sporadic for the past year, and when I do have one it’s like my body makes up for the three or four months “off” with a big ugly angry period.

(see? i tried to warn you!)

The worst had me floored/couched on a towel for a day and a half hobbling to the bathroom for a double-decker change of ‘equipment’ every hour. Every. Hour.

I was miserable. It was during the summer so both kids were home. It was the reason I finally generically explained what a period was to my son. For the next week every time I went into the bathroom he was shouting, “Is your pee-pee still bleeding, mom?! MOM?!!!” Regardless of where we were when I had to find a restroom. I was thankful we only recently started using ‘vagina’ and ‘penis’ with him. Can you imagine?! At the grocery store restroom: “MOM, is your vagina STILL bleeding?!!!”

So today my plan during preschool was to go home, get comfy on the couch with the heating pad, drug myself, and watch TV. Without remorse or guilt. Writing a post was just a bonus, and you are welcome!