Archive for the 'bodily functions' Category

I think I have a yeast infection.

LOL. Is this a lovely blog topic or what? I am envisioning several of you groaning at this very moment, squirming in your seat. Too bad. Look away now if you’re going to be a pussy about it. (Pun intended.)

I’ve only had one yeast infection in my life, during my first pregnancy. From what I hear, yeast during gestation is common. But outside of that one incident…nada. I’m just not a yeasty person. I firmly believe that I managed to avoid subsequent infections by faithfully eating a carton of yogurt every day during the following pregnancies. By the way, I also had ZERO incidents of super-painful-middle-of-the-night-leg-cramps by eating a banana a day and taking a calcium/magnesium supplement. I also had NO heartburn by taking digestive enzymes regularly.

Anyway, this whole thing started after the motherfucking (excuse my French, but this is exactly how I feel about it) IUD caused my last period to drag on for NINE DAYS. Nine days! And because I am strongly opposed to the feeling of a sanitary napkin in my underpants, I wore a tampon inserted into my vaginal canal 24/9. I’m pretty sure that was enough to kickstart a nasty yeast infection. To solve this problem in the future, I have already decided on using a Diva Cup next month. For those of you who don’t know, the Diva Cup is a little silicone “cup” you insert into your vagina, where it collects menstrual blood and only needs to be emptied 2 or 3 times per 24 hour period.

But for now, I need to deal with the yeast issue. Because I’m too cheap to see a doctor, and because I’m anti-antibiotic (haha) anyway, I’ve decided to call upon some natural remedies. I’m really hoping the first one works. I’ve got to be at the in-laws on Saturday for a long Christmas holiday, and I’d rather not be seen with my hand continually down my pants a la Al Bundy.

So today, I am embarking on the yogurt-on-tampon remedy. In order to attempt this, you must first purchase a carton of PLAIN yogurt with active cultures. (NO ADDED SUGAR!) You then dip a tampon into the yogurt, and insert into vagina. One hour in the morning, one at night. I’m a little sketchy about tampon use again, but the thought of cool yogurt to calm the nether-regions has won me over.

I’ll let you all know how it goes. And please, let me know–has anyone tried this before? Thoughts?

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The Birds & The Bees

When I became pregnant with Animal, Pigpen was 5 and Einstein was nearly 7. Because I had chosen a homebirth, and my boys had expressed an interest in watching their baby brother be born, I knew that some minor sex education was in order. The first thing I asked the boys was, “Do you know where the baby will come out?” Pigpen eyed me curiously. “Your MOUTH?” he asked, increduously. This further convinced me that a few choice details needed to be revealed. The boys learned that Daddy and I had made a baby and that it was growing inside my belly. They learned that boys had penises, girls had vaginas, and the baby was going to be come out of my vagina. At this point, Einstein said “No WAY” in disbelief. “How is a BABY going to get through a little vagina?” I explained that it would stretch enough for the baby to be born. At that point, that was all they really needed to know.

And so when Animal was born, as promised, he came from my vagina. Einstein didn’t seem too impressed, but Pigpen was quite captivated. My midwife lifted the placenta and carefully showed him where Animal had been living for the past 9 months. Pigpen was fascinated.

Back when I was 9 or 10, my mother had given me the Birds and the Bees talk. She had used a book. I remember being curious, but embarassed. I remember finding the book and hiding it under my bed, to sneak peeks at whenever I was alone and away from my parent’s watchful eye. It wasn’t long before my mother found the book, and it disappeared from our library. I felt like a freak, a pervert.

When I was 16, I lost my virginity. I promptly made an appointment with Planned Parenthood, and summoned the courage to call up my ONE friend (male) who had a car and a driver’s license, so that I could have transportation to the clinic. I was proud of myself, feeling responsible for my body and mature. Not long after, my mother found my birth control prescription. It was not a pretty sight, because of course, good Christian girls save themselves for marriage. I felt dirty and guilty. Perhaps that was her intent. Two years later, I would face an unplanned pregnancy that would change my life forever. I have to wonder if a supportive stance on the birth control issue would have caused an entirely different outcome.

Anyway, today Pigpen is nearly 7 and Einstein is 8. When I was in school, Sex Education was taught in 3rd grade. For Einstein, that’s next year. I have strong feelings about “getting to him first.” Not that I don’t entirely trust the public school system to give him good information, but mostly because I want him to have the opportunity to ask questions and discuss things in an environment where he feels safe and comfortable. I also want to educate him myself before his friends start talking, and boys start “ewwwing” about Sex Ed and stop paying attention during the lesson.

I’m a little concerned that Pigpen isn’t exactly ready for the big Birds & the Bees discussion, but I’m more afraid of giving Einstein “The Talk” and having him spill the beans to Pigpen in a secondhand manner that won’t be appropriate. And so, we embark on a new adventure in parenthood.

I scoured the earth for an informative book that was age appropriate and had information that I agreed with. I also needed something fun and interesting, with great illustrations to keep the kids interested. I found such a book, called “It’s So Amazing: A Book about Eggs, Sperm, Birth, Babies and Families by Robie H. Harris. It really is a fantastic book. The first night I pulled out the book, I told the kids that it was time they learned about their bodies. As expected, the first few chapters were met with “EW’s” and giggles, and completely hilarious comments. In one picture, there is a blackboard, in which pictures have been drawn to illustrate that EGG + SPERM = BABY. And so there is a picture of an egg (a circle), a sperm, and a baby. Pigpen points to the picture and says “Look! Egg plus balloon equals a baby!” While I am explaining that in order to make a baby, a sperm must plant itself inside an egg, Pigpen shouts out “EGGPLANT! EGGPLANT!” Halfway through, Einstein remarks, “This is kind of gross, Mom.” After the allotted reading time was up, I tucked them into bed and practically ran into the bathroom to lock myself in and laugh myself into hysterics.

Tonight, they were begging for the book long before bedtime. They just couldn’t wait for more information, little sponges that they are. They interrupted me after every couple of sentences, excitedly bombarding me with questions and giggling at words like “anus” and “testicles”. They whined and begged for more when I put the book away for the night. I promised to read more tomorrow. I was proud. I want them to be informed. I want them to know their own bodies, inside and out. I want them to never feel ashamed about the way their bodies are changing. Just the same, I want them to understand the female body. I want them to grow up to respect the female form, to know how it works and how to treat it gently. I just have to cross my fingers and hope that I’m doing the right thing, in the right way.

Do Girls Fart?

The other day, B was playing with Animal. He lifted him up in the air, twirled him around, tickled him, etc. Just the way you play with a baby. Well, at one point, Animal’s butt was right in B’s face when Animal let loose a big ole baby fart. I started giggling. When I had recovered, I asked B, “Wouldn’t it be awesome if we just let loose every time we felt some gas coming on? No matter what we were doing, or where we were, or how inappropriate it might be???”

B gave me this weird look and said “Uh, I DO let loose like that.” LOL!

I was retelling the story to my mom later, and we were laughing about how true that is. Men will seriously fart anywhere at anytime.

But women…oh we are complete opposites. We will squeeze our buttcheeks as hard as we can, and tighten up our buttholes until the urge passes. If we’re walking, we’ll find an excuse, or a nonchalant way to stop, look natural, tighten, and wait. As a result, women everywhere are suffering from painful gas, bloating, indigestion, irritable bowel syndrome, and the list goes on and on.

Now I know you men are thinking “Do you *ever* let it out?” Well, of course we do. The appropriate time is when we’re on the toilet. So when we sit down to pee, we let out the air first, and then start the tinkle.

It’s the funniest thing in the world to be in a busy women’s restroom and hear every single woman open a stall door, unzip, sit down on the pot, fart, and then pee. Every time man, every time! LOL! And actually, a lot of us are self-conscious about anyone in the public restroom hearing our pre-pee farting. So we have learned to cough or simultaneously flush the toilet while we’re doing the deed. Come on ladies, don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about!