The 4 Real Stages of the Crazy Woman, I mean, Menstrual Cycle; Be afraid. Be Very Afraid!

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Look, there are plenty of sane women. There are also women who don’t PMS. Women who do charity work. Who wear chastity belts.

Who are saints.

Then there are the rest of us.

And since women are crazy because men are sometimes, ahem, stupid, I thought I would delineate the stages of the menstrual cycle for the lazyman, I mean, the layman.

#1 All is well

Let’s call this day 1 of the cycle. Period is done.

The woman is happy. Her vagina is free of tampons, and her crotch is free of maxi pads. There’s nothing going down down there, and praise be! That’s all we ask. A  little peace and quiet in the netherlands of our “netherlands.”

Our skin is clear. Our boobs aren’t sore. And we haven’t ate everyone out of the house or held up a CVS or Duane Reade at gunpoint for Peanut Butter cups.

Not yet at least.

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Excuse me. I think I just had an orgasm. What was I saying?

Oh yeah. stage #2

#2 High-energy

Right before ovulation, things start to get cooking. We’re peppy, and hey guys, we even like you. We might ask you to go steady, or to fu*k off, but chances are we will be nice if we tell you to go south. We exercise, command attention, and are super-efficient. Life is better than good–it’s awesome.

#3 A Love Bomb is about to Drop

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This is right at ovulation or a 1-3 days before.

We. Are. Horny. Very.

This is the time to make babies, or make peace, depending on bad you pissed off your lady. This is the peak opportune time to ask her to do something naughty in bed.

Some women may speak in tongues during orgasms. Others may just simply make you agree to spend loads of money you didn’t really want to, but you don’t care. You got some. We like you. We want you around, and we make your life easy.

Our skin may break out–damn, that sucks—but otherwise, we are symptom free, minus a few cramps indicating that “Damn son, an egg is about to drop!”

If you don’t want a baby, watch out!

#4 Run For Cover, or Prepare for potential Death

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This is right before our period…the stage called PMS, and the actual PERIOD. Yup, blood and all.

We become bloated. Some of us have sore boobs. We may cramp. We may break out as if we are a goddamned teenager again. We may eat you out of the house. We may decide to hold up 7-11 for a slushie and a chocolate bar, forgetting we’ve got the cash to pay for it in our wallets. Besides, we didn’t ask to go through this. Nature gave us this crap. We deserve whatever we want.

Men, you will do EVERYTHING wrong, unless you aren’t stupid, and we will hate your clothes, words, face, soul, job, mother, and heart.

We will cry when you forget the DVR the Golden GIrls because don’t you know it, it was the episode in which Sophia was in the hospital. Damn you!

We will get mad when you forget (see a theme here?) what our confirmation/Hebrew name is! You terrible pathetic jerkoff! How dare you forget my confirmation name that goes like: Mary Margaret Theresa Marie.

How dare you get it in the wrong order?

Watch as your precious items are burned.

Football, unless she’s a fan, will be banned.

If you even whisper, “Touchdown,” prepare for your death.

Right until when it is all over, and we’re back to stage 1.

The impressions in this blog are of the author, a sane and smart woman. Well, one of those is true.

If you are an angel all month long, please ignore this.

If you love getting your period, screw you.

If you don’t understand this is humor, you are stupid.

Love,

Me

**images by Photobucket

5 Signs the World is Ending, according to my Toddler

Nothing is worse than a toddler having a temper tantrum. Sure, you can argue that losing money, getting an STD, getting red wine all over a white blouse, or running a marathon in six inches heels might be worse, but a toddler meltdown is akin to what I imagine the second coming of Christ looks like to a holy roller.

#1 First Sign that the world is coming to an end…

Super Why’s Dog, “Woofster” will not be appearing on the episode.

Woofster is the single most retarded name I can think of to name a cartoon dog. It certainly isn’t memorable, and worse, his voice is irritating, but she loves the show and I think it’s cute…mostly, so we watch the show.

“Where’s Super Why’s doggie? Where is he?No!!!!”

My toddler crumples in her little seat in a dramatic gesture similar to ones made by Italian Grandmothers at funerals. I want to curse PBS and my DVR for giving me an episode without Wyatt’s famed new dog. I want to stamp my feet and scream because I just want to take a shower for a minute, possibly even shave my you-know-what’s, while she bathes in Boob Tube bliss. The absence of Woofster has made it so my shower is pierced with complaints.

#2 Second Sign the World is Ending: Her mother tells her what to do.

Doodlebug, take off your shoes please.

Mommy, take off my sweater. No sweater.

Okay, just take your shoes off first please.

No Mommy!

She flings herself into the cross position, and wails. She kicks her legs when I remind her that she knows how to take off her shoes, and cries even harder. She begins to hack slightly as if she might throw-up, trying to show me how serious she is about her feelings.

Suddenly, my adorable child turns red and speaks tongues close to the Hebrew language. I see the signs of stigmata. I wonder why I didn’t just shut my uterus down for business in the first place. I hide in the bathroom praying she won’t remind me of my sins.

She cries for what feels like forever, and then finally gives up. I take off her sweater.

#3 Signs the World is Ending, number 3:

No Cantaloupe

My daughter could eat about 4 whole cantaloupes a week, maybe more. I fear she will turn into a large round orange boulder of a girl, and she will have to wear colorful stickers to the prom, instead of a dress.

When the cantaloupe runs out, you better leave town or prepare yourself to listen to her lament and shriek.

“Cantaloupe Mommy! Cantaloupe!”

“But I don’t have anymore.”

“Daddy buy more Cantaloupe Mommy!”

This goes on until finally, she cries and repeatedly asks me for cantaloupe. My ears start to bleed, and I wish I had joined the circus instead of had a child.  I wish that all the cantaloupe would magically disappear, so then she could just fixate on another fruit instead.

#4 Fourth Sign that the End is Near:

Charlie Brown’s Mayflower Episode is gone

I have no idea how many ways she has asked me–maybe thirty different times?– but my daughter keeps asking me to show her the Charlie Brown Mayflower episode. I cannot stand it. It is boring as hell. I’m not watching it again, at least not until next Thanksgiving. I keep telling her the Mayflower has set sail…she keeps asking anyway, and searching through the DVD’s for the disc.

I am an evil mommy.

#5 Final Sign that the Second Coming is Near:

Can’t find her Tinkerbell Washcloth

“I want the Tinkerbell towel Mommy.”

“Okay, we will find it. Do you really need it now while you eat?”

Screams for this stupid little Tinkerbell rag ensue. I tell her TInkerbell doesn’t want to get dirty. Tinkerbell wants to stay in the bathroom where she belongs. I petition for Tinkerbell’s right to stay food-encrusted free.

What the hell is wrong with me?, I think. It’s a damn towel. Tinkerbell isn’t a real person.She doesn’t think. She doesn’t exist, minus in drawings and television/movies. Why is my daughter turning shades of fucshia over a silly washcloth? Will she throw up this time? (No)

She is a good girl, my little bug, but sometimes I feel I am living with a Neanderthal. I suspect one day she will be clobbering me over the head with a wooden club, and asking me to go hunt for some food. It’s part of toddlerhood, and a totally understandable phase, but sometimes when she starts to develop horns and speaks in an evil tongue, I wonder if she isn’t possessed somewhat.

But then I feel better, because I know she didn’t inherit that from me. She most likely inherited that from my mother-in-law. I’m only responsible for the bossiness.