So I am going to write today about something that most people do not talk about. You see we all have our periods and we get together and complain about cramps and sometimes how happy we are that we aren’t pregnant. But most of the time we don’t talk about periods and what it’s like as a mother.

I am going to start with this, when I would have my period when I was a teenager I was very unpleasant. How do I know? Because one time my sister, as a joke, which I would have ordinarily laughed at because it was my brand of humor, bought me some “bitch pills” (they were just jelly beans) and gave them to me when I was on my period. I almost ended her life. I almost did my beloved sister in because she gave me a jar of jelly beans labeled “Bitch pills” which typically would have made me laugh. As I got older and popped out a few kids my hormones weren’t quite so murdery thank the Lord Almighty!!!!

However, for a trade-off, I got this amazing ability to bleed profusely through every piece of protection they offered. “Super” my ass, the only thing super about this fucking tampon is how hard they are to hide from my children. Do the words “Tampon Light saber war” mean anything to anybody??? My husband’s poor Meme had been sitting and eating a piece of cake when my children came in with their very own colored (Yes they colored them) super tampons to have a light saber war in my living room.

Then there was the time that my children stuck my maxi pads all over the bathroom walls, themselves and then cried because I took their stickers away. But this is only part of the joy of periods as a mother. You see these are just the mishaps with the paraphernalia. The period mishaps are way worse.

When children are small and you have to take them out with you and you have to use the bathroom, what is the proper “Anti-theft” protocol for your children, you take them in the stall with you. I was a heavy bleeder and I should be allowed to stay at home until the coast was clear. I was not capable to stay home and cry because I had my period, because this particular time I had to go to some such thing that was more important than my heavy flow. So wherever I was and whatever I was doing I had to take a potty break due to the fact that my “Super bitch of a tampon” decided to give out on me. She’s weak I tell ya! So I walk into the bathroom with my child and I put my child in the stall with me. I am now sitting on the toilet (and to quote the president of the united states) “I had blood coming out of my wherever!” Like a lot of blood, out of my tiny wherever. My child is standing in the stall with me and trying to ask me questions.

“Mommy, Why do I have to be in here? I don’t have to go to the bathroom.” cute little child voice with angelic face to match.

“I wouldn’t want you to not be safe!” I respond. (all the while trying to figure out how I am going to do some fancy magician slight of hand to remove the tampon from my wherever and put it in the fancy bag and put it in the beautiful receptacle that they offer in the ladies’ stall. Unless it’s ripped off and there is only the screws and some weird orange spot where it once was.)

“Why wouldn’t it be safe if I was not in here?” child asks

“Because then someone would think you didn’t have a mommy that loves you and then they might want to take you home with them.” I try and the whole time I am discretely trying to reach behind me and do the deed.

“What was that???” child screeches.

“What was that thing that you pulled out of your butt?” child panics

“It’s okay honey. Calm down.” I try to reassure my poor, scarred for life, child that I am okay.

“MOM? WHAT WAS THAT THING YOU PULLED OUT OF YOUR BUTT? WAS IT A BLOODY SNAKE? WHY WAS THAT BLOODY SNAKE IN YOUR BUTT? ARE YOU GOING TO DIE?” Child goes into complete meltdown mode.

I whisper and I can hear the other ladies all laughing, not laughing per say but wheezing and hyperventilating and doing everything in their power not to laugh. I whisper in my most embarrassed whisper ever, “It wasn’t a bloody snake from my butt. It was a tampon and sometimes mommies need tampons because they are not going to have a baby.”

“WHAT??? WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?” panicked child still screaming, eyes rounder than ever.

“I said, sometimes mommies need to use tampons because they are not going to be having a baby. It wasn’t a snake”…I take the new fresh clean tampon out of my purse and hold it up and show the poor child who is probably sitting in therapy right now explaining their very own version of this story. “It’s a tampon. I need this because I am not going to have a baby.”

The child looks at me and is horrified. This fucking “super size me” tampon is not helping with the explanation, nor is it comforting at all. I open the tampon up and show it with its nice cardboard tube and everything. “See, it’s a tampon!”

These other ladies start selling tickets for admission to the period show, because it now sounds like everyone and their mother is in that fucking bathroom. All sniggering and listening and howling once in a while.

“WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH IT? DO YOU PUT THAT IN YOUR BUTT? MOM DON’T PUT THAT THING IN YOUR BUTT!” begins to cry yell!

“It….ummm! Well, it doesn’t go in my butt, honey! It goes in my….ummm….I put it in my…..Mommies who are not going to have a baby put these in their…ummm.”

“WHERE? WHERE ARE YOU PUTTING THAT THING?” child asks very loudly and very shaken. Quite certain that the kidnapping deal might actually be a better situation for them at this juncture of their life.

“Mommies put them in their vaginas.” I state “And it’s okay because we have to, because of the blood.” I know I’m making it worse. Very much worse!!!!

“JESUS CHRIST MOM, JUST HAVE THE BABY!” child shouts with great emphasis on the last part.

The silence was deafening. The women were silently laughing and gasping for air and slapping their knees and clapping their hands in that, I can’t laugh but noise must signify that this is some funny shit going on right here, way!

I may never leave this stall! Like ever!!!!! I live in this fucking bathroom stall from now on! Because when I leave these ladies are going to know that, not only do I have my period, but I am also failing as a mother. I don’t want them to see my face. All I can say about this moment, is that I am so super glad that there were no cell phones at this time. No one taping it and posting it and auto tuning it. Thank God for that. I would have died from embarrassment. Instead I put the tampon in and got up and flushed the toilet. I opened the stall door and those ladies all gave me a standing ovation. They all smiled and told me that I was doing a fine job. They were there for the entertainment, but also for the camaraderie that we, as ladies in whatever of the various menstrual cycle they may be in, must show one another. They were all really wonderful ladies to have overheard that entire embarrassing display in the bathroom stall.

I wash my hands and wash my child’s hands because public bathrooms are gross. I lift my purse onto my shoulder and I walk out of that bathroom with my head held high. I am a mother and we have to do things that we don’t want to do. First we have to have the damn periods, the cramps and the acne and the cravings that cannot be cured. Then we have to carry an entire trunk filled with equipment all of the time because who fucking knows when the “Bloody Snake” is going to appear. Then we have to explain why we had to leave the grocery store after we sneezed…and also why our jackets are tied around our waist….and without groceries. So if you are a mother, or you know someone who is a mother, pass this story onto them. Then you can all have a good laugh at my expense. I am no longer embarrassed about it. I just think “Wow, I did not have any training for that day. I was ill prepared!”

Moral of my story: Do not leave your house if you have your period and if you do have to leave your house with your period, let it be the only one you bring with you. You don’t want to have to explain to your three-year old why you pulled a bloody snake out of your butt.

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