Mommy Brain~ condition that makes everything foggy, forgotten and questionable if it’s really happening, supposed to be happening, or already happened?
I’d bet my reminder list that most of us are in the throes of it at this very moment. Me, I am on the verge of a full-blown case of sundowners of the Mommy Kind. I’m not exaggerating when I say that if it weren’t for my head being attached, I’d have misplaced it by now.
On a cold day in January, I had an OB/GYN check up and was at that point in my pregnancy where I couldn’t see my feet but there was no way I was going in without a little landscaping down below. I refused to look like I had a chia pet in a headlock.
I stepped into the shower and tried to lift my belly out of the way, to get a lay of the land. Impossible. I had to feel my way making a mental note, as I went; Scratch. Bump. Crease. Opening. Labia. Clitoris. Baby! Oops. After much panting, praying and contorting, I started the impossible task. This was a dangerous endeavor. I’m no Helen Keller. I’d never done this before. There was a huge chance that some very important bits could be permanently severed and left behind to circle the drain. That thing’s attached for a reason. It may look like it’s coming detached but damn it, it’s not.
An hour later, I grabbed the mirror and what was revealed to me was patchy with tufts of what looked like tiny Fu Manchu’s scattered all throughout my groin region. Tiny Fu Manchu’s that you might see on a little person Kung Fu Master with a bad attitude and one eye. Back to the freezing shower I went.
My plan was simple; to walk into that appointment, drop trough, and show my handsome OB/GYN the most impressively landscaped vagina he’d ever seen on a woman. But why stop at just pretty? I grabbed the feminine hygiene spray and after a quick once over, I was not only impeccably groomed but also smelled like a beautiful summer’s day.
After the exam, my doctor looked up and said, “Everything looks great and (with a knowing smile and a wink) very festive.” I was an over cooked, over stuffed, waddling pregnant woman with no time to decipher Dr.Hottie’s riddle. I had no idea what he was talking about. At home after a quick look in the mirror, to my horror and surprise, what I thought was feminine hygiene spray was actually my 2-year-olds Christmas themed Barbie spray. My hairless Chihuahua was now covered with green sparkly glitter spray. Festive, indeed.
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