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February 2015

Toiletexting: It's A Real Problem - At Our House, Anyways!

I started blogging in 2003 (with 4 kids home all under the age of 10) and I remember how most of my mom and dad friends (at the time) thought I was soooooooo crazy, because who has the time...really?!?

Christmas 2002
Photo of my Mom with her grandrugrats, taken circa 2003 B.P. (before picmonkey)

They were right, of course! Those were some crazy-busy daze, my friends! On the other hand, blogging was (and still is) cheaper than therapy.

And then Facebook happened (i.e. one of the top ten BIGGEST time sucks in internet history) and now we can ALL meet up for some coffee (or cawfee, if you're from Jersey), rather than wave at each other as we attempt to maneuver our way OUT of a school parking lot (I don't miss having to do school drop-offs and pick-ups anymore, NOT ONE BIT) and now we can discuss parent-type things...on the our pajamas...from the privacy of our own bathrooms and everything...YO!!!

Looking back on it now, I kind of...sort of...almost...miss those crazy-busy daze...but living in a house with 3 teens and 2 other adults can get really weird, too!!!

Most especially when one of them texts you...from the bathroom. 

Teens Toiletexting Exhibit A

I was warming up the car to take our youngest to school, because they haven't shoveled the bus stop (which is a whole OTHER blog post!) and, well, standing out in 13 degrees...with a wind chill of minus HOLY CRAP IT'S COLD...would make me have to go to the bathroom, too!

Teens Toiletexting Exhibit B

Moral of the Story: Teens are REAL DEEP sleepers and GAHDFUHBID one of them replaces the toilet paper!

By the time I got back inside the house, Holly was already awake and had gotten her baby sister some toilet paper. And I would have been MORE pissed about it...if it weren't for the fact that...after getting out of the car and going back into the cold...I also had to go to the REAL bad, too...YO!!!

[sound of crickets, sighing]

Dumbass polar vortex, stupid weak bladder!

© This Full House 2003-2019. All rights reserved.

There's a Reason Why They Don't Call It Womenpause

Menopause. It's such an unattractive word. Let's be honest. What was the FIRST thing that came to mind when reading the flashes...mood swings...old lady disease, maybe?

No one really likes to talk about...ahem...she who shall not be named...and I don't blame anyone visiting with us right now...especially, for the first time...for wanting to click away, at this very moment.

Because ain't nobody got no time to just sit around and think about how bad they feel about stuff...especially women...let alone, blog about it.

On the other hand: I've just entered my 12th year of blogging, so my kids are much older than your average parent-type blogger, which means I'm now in the "as close to forgotten without actually getting there" demographic, but my writing philosophy has pretty much remained the same.

I only share the stuff I would feel comfortable talking front of my teens...or meeting someone, for the very first time.

"Could you talk about ANOTHER room...please?!?!"

On the OTHER other hand: Apparently, I feel WAY more comfortable about talking in front of my teens...than my teens do...even though I wasn't really talking in front of them, when telling a good friend of mine one of my favorite transvaginal ultrasound stories...per say.

"Nooooo, I can't say transvaginal five times real fast!!!"

But, I try anyway.

"We can STILL hear you!"

Unfortunately for my teens, we live in a small house and my voice carries.

Right. So. Point being (because I do have one, it's in here, somewhere...OH YEAH...moving on) I've even taken to discussing my girlie troubles in the most manly way I know how, in mechanical terms, to help our more squeamish blog visitors feel a little less uncomfortable.

This is not one of those times.

WARNING, FRANK DISCUSSION AHEAD: relating to the female reproductive system, while using proper medical terms, for both internal and external bodily functions, and everything.

Okay, so while we wait for other folks to click away -- I really don't talk about this stuff all that often, so I really do hope you consider coming back and please make sure to give the storm door a real good tug on your way out, because it sticks, that's what SHE said! -- did I ever tell you about the time my uterus broke the ultrasound machine?!?!


Now that we're alone. Last year, I was diagnosed with adenomyosis and there is nothing funny about this real painful, sucky part of perimenopause! Unless, you happened to be in the same room with me during an ultrasound and I'm feeling really, really uncomfortable about it.

"We're going to do the regular ultrasound first."

Because they make you drink A LOT of water before an ultrasound and, well, ultrasound technicians aren't exactly thrilled about the idea of you pee-ing...oh, sorry...I mean...urinating all over the examining room...either...still, I nearly kissed the ultrasound technician on the mouth, because I had to urinate THAT BADLY!

"There's a gown in the bathroom, put it on and I'll be back in just a few minutes!"

And when the ultrasound technicians tell you "There's a gown in the bathroom" what they really mean is look for the really long (and wide) sheet of pink glorified toilet paper.

[sound of a really long and wide sheet of pink glorified toilet paper, ripping]

ProTip: When it comes to womanly issues, it's easier if you just check your dignity in at the door.

Now the next real sucky part about waiting for a transvaginal the waiting...I'm not very good at waiting...for anything...I get bored real easy and start looking around the room for stuff to read.

"Oh look, a uterus!"

Because, 4 babies...I kind of...sort of...know what one looks like.

"With a giant cluster of BLAH sitting...[squinting at ultrasound screen]...right there...OMG!!! WONDER this shiznit hurts SO MUCH...look at the size of that...wait a minute."

This particular cluster of BLAH had what looked like tiny arms and maybe even...


The ultrasound technician came back into the room just in time to find me with my nose glued to the ultrasound machine and tracing what looked like...


Did you hear it? The two remaining gray cells in my brain EXPLODE?

Not My Scan


"Ummmm, that's NOT your ultrasound scan!"

Aaaaand, I don't believe I've ever been SO HAPPY to be in the "as close to forgotten without actually getting there" I am...RIGHT NOW...not to mention...I may be the only person who's ever giggled her way through a transvaginal ultrasound...yo!!!

Moral of the Story: Don't go reading other people's ultrasounds!!!

Aaaaaand to the person to whom this ultrasound scan truly belongs: CONGRATULATIONS!!!! have a beautiful uterus!!!

[sound of crickets, chirping]

Stupid ultrasounds, dumbass menopause.

Updated to add: The doctor's office called me, while in the middle of writing this post, to give me the results of the ultrasound -- not pregnant, but there's a cyst on my right ovary and I need to go back for yet ANOTHER transvaginal ultrasound in 6 know...for extra BLAH!

Can't wait to see whose ultrasound I'll be reading next...NOT!!!

© This Full House 2003-2019. All rights reserved.